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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:22:14 GMT
A young man came out to play and Hassen gave the man a genuine smile. He was in far too good of a mood to do otherwise. He didn't know this man's name and a small part of him was curious to know. The servant in him, however, decided that such information was unimportant and, therefore, pointless. Asking such a question would only waste time, as well. He really should just move on to the-
“So are you the butler, then?” Hassen stood up and nodded. The confusion was obvious as he looked down at his clothes and then back up at the man, one brow cocked and the other lowered. He had the dull clothes, didn't he? The too-straight stance of one lower than everyone else. But no matter. The boy was beginning to speak again. “As much as I would like to stay here and…enjoy the scenery, I really should be going. Thank your master for providing me with a bed for the night and let him know that I will find a way to repay his kindness.”
Laughter. Loud, halting, twisted laughter filled the room. Did this man honestly believe that he could just walk out? How funny! Hassen continued to laugh, holding his sides as he started to double over. This was... This was... There were no words for it. It was stupidly hilarious. The laughter cut off suddenly as the woman finally made her presence known by slipping out of her room. Though she said nothing, she clearly knew how to get though this world. She held her tongue, stood up straight, and was essentially nothing more than a pretty face. And that was what women were, anymore. Pretty little dolls to be dressed up and helped around everywhere.
His attention shifted from the woman to the man and then back again. Nothing was said and he had no urge to speak to either. Alexander had reenforced that rule many, many times. Say nothing to anyone. Do not speak unless spoken to. There were other ones, as well, but those were the most important rules when dealing with other people. His eyes narrowed to form a twisted scowl as he glared at both. They would get one chance, he decided. One chance to not screw up and get themselves killed. He would have to train them well. If they did a good job, they would become the perfect little killers to go about doing his job for him. And if not?
If they failed, they died. Simple as that.
The woman would be easy enough. The hard part would be trying to get her to understand what he wanted. The servant would have to better his skills at Charades, or get James to play translator. At least that boy could write quickly and easily. In the time that Hassen could write a sentence, James would have written a page or more. But a little practice would have her as skilled as the servant James.
But what of the man? Here Hassen knew there would be problems. Already this man believed he could just walk out of the mansion and go home. As cute as that was, it was a completely wrong conception that would need to be ripped out and thrown away. This man would need to be broken. Brutally or gently, the servant couldn't tell, but he did know that work was needed. Lots of work.
Well, better to get started sooner than later. First things first, weaponry. The knives were still hidden all over the mansion, but Hassen was sure he could find them easily enough. He motioned for the pair of individuals to follow and waited patiently to see what would happen.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:22:21 GMT
After a time, Linnet's sobs gradually lessened, a dry sob escaping every few moments, as she stared blankly at the floor. Her mind became blank, flinching away from any thought of what had happened. There was nothing she could do to change it now, and if she did do something it would only put her in danger. She wasn't sure what she should do now, but she was content to stay hiding there until she did think of something to do. Her eyes stared at the wood floor, following the grain in the small section before her. This occupied her attention for a time until she began to hear noise at the doorway. She put her hand to her mouth to quiet the occasional, loud sob from escaping while she listened in horror. It sounded like someone was walking with quiet steps on the lush carpet, coming closer. Who was it? It wouldn't be Dominic, he had already been killed. She gave a start with the thought that it could be Hassen, or even Lira, coming to kill her.
She gave a deep sigh when James came into view. Relief showed plainly on her face, replaced after a moment by suspicious wariness. She slowly stood after realizing he had already seen her. Her wide eyes settled on his face, and she was slightly surprised to see the same wariness on his face. What did he think she would do to him? Did he already know about... her mind flinched from the thought again. She felt something running down her arm, and her face paled when she turned to look. The first thing that caught her attention was the wide, splotchy trail of blood down the wallpaper to the place she was hiding. She looked down to the slash on her shoulder, an injury she didn't remember receiving. As soon as she noticed it, she became aware of a throbbing from the wound. A small trickle of blood still flowed from one edge.
She stepped out from between the couch and the wall, and a couple steps closer to James. Her hands hung at her sides, empty, and there was a questioning look in her gaze. Why was James here? Why had he found her? Suddenly, a vivid memory of how she obtained the slash on her arm flashed across her mind. She gave a small gasp of fear as her legs began to collapse beneath her. She grabbed for something to hold herself up, and ended up clasping James's shirt. She didn't immediately right herself, but instead stood there for a moment. She could just barely hear the beat of his heart. A second later, she realized she was crying again, silent tears streaming down her face. The reality of what had happened hit her again, but not as badly as before. She calmly let herself cry, not even remembering her iron grip on James's shirt as she relived the memory, her tears slowly dripping on her hands and the shirt.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:22:28 GMT
James stood tensed for a few moments as he heard whomever it was behind the sofa move. He prepared himself to flee if the human sprang at him, procuring more wounds at this point in time, especially since he'd just gotten healed, was not ideal. And frightened humans tended to go for the torso or the face. It wouldn't be very pleasant to go around with a mutilated face or a chest wound. Not at all.
Thankfully the girl who emerged, Linnie, was weaponless. And quite bloody. The first plausible scenario James could conceive sprang into his mind as they stood there, sizing each other up. She'd had a weapon, James had given it to her, so perhaps She'd had a run in with one of the others, most likely Lira, and he'd wounded her and stole her knife. But she'd fled before he could kill her. James was vaguely glad that Linnie wasn't dead yet. He rather liked her. At that thought, the girl across from him gasped quietly, a look of distress on her face. The young man took a half pace forward instinctively to catch her, and she likewise clutched at his shirt to keep herself up, her head against his chest.
Surprise straightened the boy's spine as they stood there briefly. She was a touch taller than him, but light as a bird feather, it felt. He was about to disentangle himself from her grasp so he could clean up all the blood on her, perhaps find her a new shirt and calm her down, when he realized that she was crying noiselessly. James let out a little sympathetic sound and patted her back gently. Being attacked was quite terrifying, he couldn't blame her for being frightened. But he couldn't let her just sit there and cry then bleed to death. She obviously trusted him enough not to flee, and he should respect her trust. And to be quite honest, he was sort of quietly rooting for her.
Gently, one hand still supporting her just in case her legs weren't completely back yet, he pulled her hands from his shirt-front and withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket. He mopped up her face a little then held the handkerchief out, allowing her to finish the job is she chose. Then he pointed at her bloody shoulder and clumsily pantomimed cleaning and bandaging it. Then he lifted both of his eyebrows questioningly. he wouldn't press her to tell him how it happened, it was most likely the cause of her distress, but she really did need to get it cleaned at the very least, then sit down, eat something, and rest. Blood loss was just as dangerous as any of the other modes of killing in this place. It wasn't particularly tasteful, however. Quick deaths usually had a richer consistency, old age left souls mushy and shrived, disease soured them, and slow, uneventful deaths blackened the flavour. Which was why Drake preferred to keep his guests not bleeding out over the floors for several hours before kicking the bucket, and non-deadly wounds were cleaned up.
Perhaps there were elements of humanity under the excuses, though, perhaps there was a conscience beneath the monster. James liked to think so. It made things more tolerable.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:22:38 GMT
What was going on here? Just when Saber thought he had a handle on what was happening, something new happened. Like a young women appearing and looking utterly lost. That was unexpected, but he had dealt with that just fine. And when the man came? He dealt with that as well. Any situation he did not understand, Saber had one course of action:
Fake it.
Fake it until everything makes sense. Saber had found that if he acted like he knew what was happening, everything worked out in his favor. So far, at least. But then something odd happened: the man laughed. It was…deeply unsettling to say the least, but Saber fought to stay calm. Just because that was deeply creepy did not mean that Saber could let it show. Taking a small breath, Saber fought to keep the surprise off his face. Instead, a slight smirk appeared. It was easier to deal with the surprising when he looked in contempt of it all.
For just a moment, Saber shifted where he stood as if trying to find a more comfortable position. In truth, it was the only way he could keep from showing his deep confusion. And fear. That was a psychotic man’s laugh and those were the hardest people to deal with. Saber should know, he was often considered one. That was why Saber got away with so much: he was dangerously unpredictable at times.
Then the laughing abruptly stopped which was creepier than the sudden start, but at least it allowed Saber some time to think. Maybe this was not the situation he had assumed it was. But if it was not some kind stranger, what was it? Clearly, something darker and sinister. Again, Saber tried to recount what had happened last night, but again, he found nothing but emptiness and a pounding headache.
For a moment, Saber considered ignoring the man’s gesture to follow. It was tempting to simply break away and try and find his own way out. Especially when that man had psychotically laughed just moments ago. Why would he want to stick with such a clearly deranged man? Because that clearly deranged man obviously knew something Saber did not. Something that must have made Saber’s desire to leave somehow glaringly wrong in this man’s eyes. So, for now, he would follow. However, he knew he could break away at any time. It would be easy enough just to walk down a different hall. Therefore, for now, he would go along with this. He took a step forward, with his arms still crossed across his chest.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:22:44 GMT
When James patted her on the back, a wordless noise of sympathy coming from him, Linnie straightened in slight alarm. She had forgotten where she was entirely. She looked up into his face, blinking with bewilderment as James, and the room seemed to spin slightly. She stiffened and waited for it to pass, flinching slightly as James wiped, an oddly child-like expression on her face. She had never really been treated this kindly before. She would always push people away that even bothered to try, afraid to trust them. Though at the moment, she could not push James away if she wanted to, at least without falling to the floor, she did not particularly have the desire to do so. All she felt was a slight fluttering in the pit of her stomach.
He held out the hankie he had been wiping her face with, and she straightened, took it, and took a small step back, suddenly quite embarrassed. "I... I'm sorry, Sur James. Thot was entirely inapro'prite of me." She looked down, blushing intensely. She quickly and surprisingly accurately brought the hankie up to wipe some grime off of her face, hiding her reddening cheeks. She looked up, slightly dizzy again, to see James pointing at her wounded shoulder. The flow seemed to have increased again, probably due to her sudden movement when she fell into James's arms earlier. He pantomimed several motions before she understood that he wanted to bandage her wound. She looked at it again, something close to puzzlement on her face. In truth, she was wondering if it was appropriate for him to do so.
She noticed an almost hungry look pass over his features, as if to communicate his thoughts before they were again hidden behind that blank mask a servant was meant to wear. The thought once again passed through her head that perhaps Drake and James were vampires. That would explain that look, and Drake's ability to smell blood from halfway across the manor. She paled at the thought, even paler than she already was from the lack of blood. But what could she do anyway? She could already see herself running out into the hall and collapsing from the exertion. The only reason she made it up here was the adrenaline. After a second of panic, she realized she did not actually know enough to assume they were vampires, much less that there was even such a thing as vampirism. She let out a short breath she had not even realized she had been holding before nodding. Social etiquette did not seem so important at the moment. In any case, if she lost much more blood, she might faint entirely.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:22:51 GMT
Dante wasn’t sure how to react when the strange servant began laughing hysterically, his face twisting up. But it wasn’t a genuine laugh. It was more like a laugh one might utter when another uttered something exceptionally, stupidly ridiculous. Something told Dante she and the high born male being laughed at, were in the same boat, and that is was a rocky one at that. She would have to tread carefully, figure out what was really going on here. Obviously the servant wasn’t a big talker, which Dante wouldn’t normally mind. Right now, however, she could really use some straight answers, and she knew he wasn’t going to provide them. At least not yet. Would he ever? Would she have to spend the rest of her life here? She took a deep breath, her lips parting on the thought. For once, Dante wanted to go home. She would rather deal with her gruff, straightforward and simple husband than this confusing situation. It was just more excitement than the woman had ever wanted for herself.
Dante could tell from the other guest’s stance that the servant’s laughing had thrown him entirely, even though she could not see his face. Although oftentimes Dante found faces could be deceiving. She had met many men who were able to conceal their feeling in their facial expressions, but few ever thought to consider their body language, so Dante had taught herself to read it. And read it she did. Quite well. Her eyes had been studying the young male, so when she looked up only to see a scowl on the servant’s face, she raised both eyebrows in surprise. What was he scowling about? Well, she could maybe see why he would be scowling at the other male, but her? She hadn’t spoken a single word. But then, maybe he was just in a bad mood, or… her thoughts trailed off when he gestured for the two of them to… follow him. She could practically see the wheels in his head spinning, his eyes calculating. She blinked a couple of times. It was rare to see such intelligence in a servant. What was he plotting? She had seen the same look in the eyes of business men, yet there was something darker about this on. Something she hadn’t seen before, and couldn’t yet place. It unnerved her.
Dante began nibbling on the inside of her cheek, considering her options which, let’s face it, were quite few. She could go with him and maybe make some pieces of this puzzle fit together, or she could stay and wait. Or possibly die. Possibly even worse. But then, something horrible could happen either way. She breathed out heavily just as the other male began walking towards the servant, his arms crossed over his chest demonstratively. His stance almost made the redhead smile, because he was so obviously trying to showcase something that wasn’t quite true to himself. Again, however, she held her tongue as always, and straightened her dress, slowly making her way over to the servant, wondering what he wanted with them. What were his plans? Was he taking them to the master of the house? Would they get to see their kidnapper? The female inwardly sighed. At least her husband wasn’t with her here. Not because she didn’t want anything to happen to him especially, but rather that he would take control of things, and Dante knew in her gut that she would handle things better than he. It didn’t take a genius to know that she was the smarter one. The more cunning individual. Even if people rarely noticed.
As she moved closer to the servant, his features become more distinct, and she almost gasped in horror at the ugly scar stretching across his cheek, but no, she kept her face innocently expressionless, her eyes soft, her mouth slightly parted, her breaths slow and measured. Her body was kept straight and dignified, even though she knew she had no rights here. She was still of good family, and she had been taught to display herself in a certain way. Dante gathered her hands loosely in front of her, as she walked one measured step at a time, feeling oddly naked without her shoes, and with her hair let loose.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:23:04 GMT
James kept his hands slightly out, palm up when the young woman took a half step back, just in case he needed to catch her again. She was looking a bit pale, actually. He was relieved when she finally agreed to let him tend to her wound. She seems very polite, but hardheaded. Stubborn. James was used to dealing with stubbornness, but this was a dire situation, what with the lass bleeding out everywhere as she was. James ushered her over to the couch and made sure she was sitting down at least somewhat comfortably before holding up one finger and motioning that she stay put for a moment. He needed to hurry, just as much out of urgency as the fact that she might run off if he dallied too long. She wouldn't get very far, but if she hid somewhere he might not be able to get her back out to fix her up.
The young green eyed man looked back from the doorway for a moment and smiled halfway before scurrying off down the hallway.
Elsewhere, Drake was celebrating another victory of survival. Capturing the two humans at such sort notice was a stroke of genius and warranted a drink. Or multiple drinks. With nothing else to occupy the time between his current moment and the next interesting one. Also known as the next time someone died. And he didn't know when that would be. Hassen and James could handle the humans until then. Not like they could be that much trouble.
Fully equipped with a somewhat drunken cheer, the daemon went for a walk aimlessly through the manor, as was his wont when inebriated. He avoided the human's quarters, he didn't want to ruin whatever stirrings that were bubbling there. He knew better than to mess that up; disturb the beginning of all the little plans that would culminate in dinner. Speaking of dinner, the humans would probably require food at some point. Some point soon. Later though.
Suddenly, death pervaded his sense, and he looked about himself. Where was it coming from? He spotted a few dots of blood on the rug, a shame, he'd told them not to get blood all over his carpets. Silly humans weren't capable of listening, apparently. He could forgive them though, if the trail led him somewhere good. He followed the droplets, which smelled incredibly like Miss Linnet, as they increased in intensity. Suddenly another smell over took the first. The smell of a dead body. But not Miss Mallory's body, he sensed. Mister Devine's. Funny how things seemed to work out completely opposite of the way one might expect.
The body was slumped in the doorway of one of the unused sitting rooms, an expression of shock and pain slack on his face. He was not long dead, his fingers clutched the wounded bit of his torso loosely, and they were easily unfolded as Drake leaned down to examine what exactly had killed the young man. The wound was from a small knife delivered heartlessly under the ribs, angled upwards. It appeared that Linnie had been the one listening to his advice, not Lira. Silly boy, he didn't understand that Drake knew best. Or maybe the fearless, calculating man this dead body had once portrayed was merely a front for a coward who could be killed by an easily frightened girl much shorter and slower than he.
Drake found that fact endlessly amusing.
"Foolish little human." He murmured to the corpse as he lay it out flat in the room, patting the top of it's head in a friendly gesture. Some of his best friends were corpses, to be quite honest. They were better listeners than anyone else he knew. Except for James. James was a good listener too, but he tended to fall asleep. Corpses could keep there eyes open until they rotted out of their skulls. A big plus in Drake's book.
The daemon continued mumbling to his captive audience as he gently excavated his rib cage, prying open the chest cavity. The delicious initial freshness was gone, so there was no hurry. And Drake didn't think that the body was so long dead that it had lost its soul altogether. After he'd gleaned his supper, none for James this time, Drake sat the body up on the sofa that Linnie had vacated not too long ago in the moments before Lira's murder. Then he sat next to it with a content sigh, his body swaying slightly under the dual effects of the soul and the recently consumed bottles of spirits. Supper and alcohol didn't go very well together, but Drake didn't care.
James hurried back from the storage cabinet in an adjacent hall with a new set of clothes for the young woman as well as supplies to bind her wound. He hesitantly poked his head around the door frame, wondering if she was still there, or if she'd fled as soon as he left her.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:23:11 GMT
Linnie allowed herself to be guided over to the couch, feeling tired again. It was a different tired from earlier, but her slow moving thoughts gave her no explanation. She sat heavily on the couch, more falling than sitting really, and looked at James drowsily as he motioned for her to stay put a moment. She gave a yawn as she lazily pondered where he was going and why he was leaving again. Avoiding the obvious thought that he was getting supplies, her brain automatically chose the worst case scenario. She immediately began wondering if he would lead one of the others here while she was so weak and defenseless. She pondered the word for a moment. Defenseless. Such a hopeless word.
Suddenly Linnet remembered the knife that lay on the floor not a meter away. She tried to hasten to the edge of the couch, only managing a tired scoot, before she leaned over to grasp at the knife with her uninjured arm. Patting the floor almost frantically, her outstretched hand finally landed on the blade of the knife. Unthinkingly, she grabbed the knife by the blade, giving herself a long cut through her palm. Since she didn't register the pain immediately, she was surprised by the fresh blood on the knife. After a moment of holding it like that, Linnie began to feel the pain of her new wound. She carelessly shifted her grip to the handle and began cleaning the dirty weapon on a part of her skirt.
She began to hear James returning and frantically hit the weapon in the sash of her apron again. James peeked in as she was adjusting her apron. Linnet guiltily returned his look before glancing at the floor again. She grasped her freshly injured hand with her left hand, palms down, as if trying to hide her injury. She was not sure why she felt guilty, but she was helpless to hide it from him.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:23:19 GMT
The young man was defiant, that was for sure. Letting his face relax to take on a softer, friendlier appearance, Hassen smiled at the younger man in an almost protective way. It was as though he were saying, 'Don't worry, I'll protect you.' Except he wasn't saying anything and there was no guarantee that he wouldn't change his mind at the last minute and abandon the pair to die. It all depended on his whims at the time. But the current stance of -what was his name again? Oh yes - Saber did have him entertained and interested. Saber looked ready to attack right there. Or was that madness reflected deep within those eyes? A hopeless, wild animal just waiting to be released... It made the servant - dare he say it - excited.
But he mustn't give all his attention to the boy. The girl would get jealous and might abandon them. He couldn't have his toys abandoning him so soon. Not when the game had only just begun. The servant's attention shifted to Dante and eyed her curiously. He could see that she was trying to read him, but it didn't seem to be getting her very far. It would have been an impressive feat, had she been able to begin guessing at his plans for them. He had learned early with Alexander that only his master was allowed to read him like a book. To everyone else he was to lie his way through until he got enough to either blackmail, capture, or escape from them.
But that was neither here nor now.
The girl was a curiosity, more so than the man. She was a mystery waiting to be solved whereas the other was little more than a boy waiting to become a man. He loved the way both paused to think. Saber, however, jumped at the better choice while the girl took her sweet time deciding which option to chose. Both presented unique opportunities. At last Dante approached, keeping her face carefully blank though she was no doubt recoiling inside once she caught sight of the servant's features.
The same protective smile was offered as he approached and reached out to brush at her cheek. It was a friendly gesture; an attempt to help relax her. He needed their trust for this to work properly, after all. The hand was retracted and fell back to his side as he brushed past both individuals. The gesture to follow was given again as he led the way down the hall. At first he appeared to be wandering aimlessly, taking turns randomly and occasionally leading them through areas that they had only just traveled. There was a method to his madness, however, as he led the way only to come to an abrupt halt just outside a room. The door he stood before was only slightly different from the rest. The handle was clean and clearly more used than the others, a sign that someone frequented this particular room.
Drake's room. Hopefully the demon was still inside and hadn't decided to wander off. Reaching up, Hassen knocked loudly, only to be greeted by silence. No matter, he would simply find Drake later. Instead he turned to the pair following and shrugged. 'What now?' he seemed to ask. He'd wanted them to meet Drake for surely the daemon would offer weapons or a hint of some kind, but now he was gone and the servant didn't know where to begin looking.
What now, indeed.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:23:27 GMT
Clearly, Saber was not going to trust this man outright. Already he was thinking of how to get away and what to do if he needed to bolt. The man’s smile was anything but protective. If anything, it made Saber tenser. If he needed to get away, Saber was confident of his ability to hit and run. He was brilliant at quick attacks that disabled his opponent long enough to get away. Well, that was against a normal opponent. Something told Saber that if he tried his normal techniques against this man, the man would simple stare at him and smile in that creepy way.
In his mind, Saber was sure he would be home by the nighttime. Then he could deal with his father’s anger, sweet talk his way past the man, and enjoy a night in bed with a few friends. It would be a great and relaxing time after this ridiculousness. At the man’s next gesture, Saber followed. He would be curious to see where this went. Regardless, he would keep an eye out for the exit.
Where were they going? Was this weirdo lost? Clearly they seemed to be wandering, but when they abruptly stopped, Saber watched curiously. Was this the door they wanted? It was cleaner than most of the doors they had walked past. Maybe that was a sign.
Then, of all things, the man looked at them. Clearly there was supposed to be someone in there that was not. “Perhaps you would be inclined to feed us then,” Saber suggested as he crossed his arms across his chest once more. “If you won’t show us the door, then you should show us some basic hospitality.”
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:23:40 GMT
Seeing Linnie right where he'd left her, James smiled with relief. Good, she hadn't ran off. James set the small pail of water he'd brought down on the floor next to the couch and laid out the other supplies next to the human. He pointed at the clothes and held up a finger, attempting to convey that she could change her attire after he finished cleaning her up. He then reached out allowing her to show him the wound as he knelt down before her. The blood on her skin was starting to dry, but the wound was still leaking, keeping her clothes wet. The butler sighed softly and dipped a scrap of cloth into the water and began slowly mopping up the wound so he could see just what he needed to do to fix it. He had to stop and replace the scrap multiple times before her arm was clean enough that he could note that the wound wasn't as deep as he expected, more like a shallow gash. A glancing blow. She was lucky that it hadn't hit her full on, apparently. How long had she been bleeding? He wondered with a slight frown.
After a moment's deliberation, James selected a small pad of gauze and applied it to the wound before wrapping it tight and binding it in a few swift motions. There, that was lovely. The greed-eyed lad stared up at the odd-eyed young woman for a moment before examining his work again. But then something caught his eye. She had both of her hands face down, and he could smell blood emanating from them, fresher than the stuff on her arm. He frowned. Slowly he reached out and took her hand, gentle but firmly flipping it over to reveal a very shallow wound. Where had that come from? Had he just not noticed it before? That was likely. Perhaps Lira had slashed at her once, and then the second time she'd lifted a hand to protect herself and the blow caught her there instead. It was certainly straight enough to be a dagger wound, but it almost looked as if she'd tried to grab the weapon out of her attacker's hand. Huh. That was strange.
Looking slightly puzzled, James reached out and cleaned her palm up too. The water in his pail was beginning to turn rosy with blood as he applied gentle pressure to her palm to make the bleeding cease. The manor didn't have enough supplies at the moment to spare some for such a menial wound, so James just wrapped a scrap around it. She could take it off whenever she wished. Because hand wounds were difficult to do anything with, and wrapping it would severely limit her mobility. She'd have to make due.
Satisfied with his handy-work, James looked up at her again and tilted his head slightly to one side, ghosting a smile, obviously asking if his work was adequate. He was still standing on his knees just before her, his chest almost close enough to touch her legs, as close as he'd been to a calm, living human in a long time. Sure, he'd had scuffles with Hassen and fought with a couple other faceless humans, but there was no peace in that. He hadn't felt the camaraderie of just being a living human since he'd known a little golden bird. But no, he shouldn't think of her as any kind of friendly replacement. For one, she was unpredictable, and two, look where his involvement had landed the poor human. It was best not to do such things. James couldn't help but entertain such thoughts though.
Elsewhere Drake was drifting off in an intoxicated sleep on the couch, and his dead companion didn't seem to pleased about having a daemon sprawled across his somewhat limp form. What could he do about it though? He was just a dead man without a ribcage. Silly little human.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:23:49 GMT
James came in with a simple smile on his face. Linnie watched him carefully, with just a hint of curiosity in her gaze, but she detected no threat in that smile. It made her want to smile back, but her face remained blank. James set down a bucket of water, some clothes, and some supplies. Looking down at her sleeve, she shifted slightly so he could access the wound, but she realized her dress was now good for little more than scraps, if that. Her attention was caught briefly by the dress James had brought her. It was a light grey, sturdy material, but more suited for a fine lady at a party than for any sort of hard labor, at least in Linnie's eyes. She winced as James probed a tender spot, and looked again to what James was doing. After dabbing a bit more blood from the wound, James wrapped her arm up with a clean bandage, and she squirmed in discomfort for a moment before settling down again.
She noticed James looking suspiciously at her down turned hands, and her guilt immediately returned. She looked down at the backs of her of her hands, watching as James deftly took the injured hand and flipped it to reveal the long cut along her palm. She noticed the confused look on his face, but said nothing. Instead, she realized how close he was and a slight flush came to her face. She was grateful for his help, but it was difficult for her to be this close to someone for so long, especially in these circumstances. He quietly cleaned the cut and loosely wrapped it with some cloth, before looking up at her, as if to ask if she was happy with his work.
She noticed a distant look in his eye, just for a moment, as if he was remembering something. Linnie figured it must have been a happy memory, because his face lit up for just a second. The look suited him, making him look younger than she had initially thought. This made her wonder exactly how old he really was. At times, James eyes made him looked as if he was terribly old, but other times, he looked much younger than she was. Right now, he looked friendly and hopeful, but she could only wonder when that look would turn back to the cold calculating stare she had seen when she first saw him.
Giving a small nod and a quiet, "Thank you... Sur James." After a moment of awkward silence, Linnie carefully stood and all but shooed James out so she could change with another thank you, and a "If you would, I'll like ta change." Silently she shut the door, leaning against it a moment to catch her balance before moving back to the couch with shaky steps. She sat heavily and hastily stripped the filthy, bloodied dress and pulled on the new grey one. She stood again, trying to adjust the garment. It became quickly apparent that the dress was made for a shorter woman with a much wider girth. It hung limply on her and only dropped to her mid-calf. It was hardly decent, even for one of her social standing, but it would have to do. It is not like she had much choice on the matter.
She walked over to the door, pausing as a new thought occurred to her. Where did James get these clothes? Had they just been in the manor, or had some unfortunate woman been killed. The thought caused a wave of nausea, and she sunk to her knees to catch her breath. It only took a moment to compose herself and harden her resolve, and she stood once again, carefully cracking the door open to see if James was still there.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:23:57 GMT
When the scarred servant began walking towards her, a smile on his face, Dante on just managed to keep still, reminding herself that even if she could run, she had no clue where to run to. Plus, it wasn’t like she was tied down or anything, and no one had begun inflicting pain on her in any way. Still, though, Dante inwardly recoiled, fighting her own instincts. His smile seemed to want to tell her something, maybe he was attempting to exude some kind of trustworthiness. Dante, however, had a feeling the servant was anything but, so she remained inexpressive, watching him, her inner cogs turning furiously. Until he touched her, at which point the redhead froze entirely, eyes slightly widened in shock. What on earth was he doing, and why? Why would he caress her cheek like that? Comfort? She blinked several times, the movements rapid as she tried to regain her equilibrium. She didn’t respond, having no clue what to do in such a situation. People didn’t simply touch each other like that where she came from. Especially not servants. So the whole action was confounding to her.
Then suddenly he was moving, brushing past her and the young gentleman. Dante looked at the other guest, wondering what he was thinking right now, possibly because she had trouble figuring out how she felt herself. To be honest, she was taking all of this a lot more calmly than she should, which worried her slightly. Why wasn’t she freaking out? She should be freaking out, panicking… yet she wasn’t. What was wrong with her? Regardless of her inner turmoil, Dante found herself following the servant when he began walking. It soon dawned on her that they were being lead through areas they had been before, and it seemed to her like the servant was at times taking completely random turns, which confused the young redhead more than a little. What was he doing? Trying to confuse them so they wouldn’t be able to find their way back? She frowned in thought ever so slightly, but she held her tongue, keeping pace dutifully.
Then they stopped, the servant knocking on a door that was obviously frequented a lot more than most others they had passed. Was the owner of the house in there, or… supposed to be there? She mentally corrected herself because no one answered the door, and the servant turned back to them, shrugging as if asking them what they wanted to do. This was such an odd situation, the redhead had no clue how to respond, so she looked to the gentleman on her side, wondering if he was going to say something. She had a feeling he wasn’t one to hold his tongue or to show any kind of humility. And… she was right, she realized, just as he spoke. Her lips fell apart slightly as she looked at him, wondering if he was even sane. He acted as though he had every right to demand things here, as though he was master of the house, or even someone the master of this house owed any servitude towards. His stance was defiant, much like that of a child not getting its way. A spoiled child, at that.
Dante didn’t know whether to laugh or shake her head at him, so she put her face and stature back into non-expressive lines and looked at the servant, curious to see how he would respond to the demands of the other male. She straightened her gown once more, wishing she was wearing shoes, and that she had fixed her hairdo instead of letting it down. She was feeling plenty uncomfortable as it was, and she worried her fellow guest would end up angering someone enough to get them both killed.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:24:04 GMT
James let Linnie shoo him out of the room, dipping his head in response to her thanks. He wandered down the hall then back up, his face entertaining a far off expression, contemplating half remembered notions. Then he sank down the wall near the door of the room he'd just vacated, where Linnie still was. And he realized how much he still hurt. The nausea had abated, crossed to the back of his mind while he'd been occupied with helping Linnie, but now it was returning, the faint nausea claiming his head and throat. He nuzzled his face into his knees and slipped over onto his side. He'd just lay down for a while and...close his eyes.
When Linnie didn't return right away, James found himself drifting off to sleep around the pain in his belly. That was how he usually dealt with pain. He slept it off. Or just spent as much time as he could asleep until there was a way to make the pain go away. Even if it wasn't all that terrible, his stomach was just a bit distended, which wasn't that difficult to attain, considering the fact that he rarely ate. And when he did he had rather bad habits about eating too much. And it always seemed to come back and bite him in the gut. Especially since his body balance wouldn't allow for more that a very slim margin of weight gain. It really didn't like changes at all.
When the door was cracked open, the boy was half gone, but after a second he stirred back into wakefulness and sat up suddenly, looking around and spotting Linnie. He rubbed his face as he stumbled back to his feet, using the wall to hoist himself up. She was wearing the new dress, he'd picked the wrong size though, it hung off her unflatteringly. James had never been very good at judging size. He wished he could tell her that she could find something else if that didn't fit, but he didn't quite know how to communicate that without it getting really complicated.
Trying to communicate with other people in itself was rather tedious. Drake was the only one who could understand him, and that was after long years of perfecting a system of palm signing and facial expressions. It tended to make for a rather lonely existence, even more lonely than being what he was. He was also trapped in his own mind. He'd long since learned to deal with the situation, Drake's sometimes-affection would have to fill the whole of his need for interaction.
But then again, it didn't seem like Linnie was much one for talking anyway, perhaps she was some of a kindred spirit, in a way. At least she wasn't one of those who spoke just to hear the sound of her voice. Those made James rather uncomfortable. green eyes flicked over the face of the human girl, and he noticed that she was a bit paler than she should be, even with the blood loss. His brow knit in slight worry, he'd keep an eye on her and make sure she was alright.
Now to attempt to communicate a very general inquiry, hopefully she'd accept or elaborate. He could say anything too specific, it took too long and it took too much trouble. He reached out and gestured the manor, then bowed, then offered her his arm, as if to escourt her somewhere. He paused for a beat, then tilted his head in a bird like manner, the question mark in his unspoken sentence. There was a solemn look on his slim face, more because he was trying to push the pain in his core into the back of his mind and forget about it than because he actually felt that way. It was better to look serious than in pain, certainly.
Especially in the presence of a stranger.
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Post by Pieluver on Nov 2, 2022 1:24:12 GMT
She was both relieved and suspicious when she saw James still out in the hallway. It seemed he had been sleeping, and Linnie wondered just how long he had actually waited for her. It had not seemed that she had taken that long. Nevertheless, perhaps her little panic took longer than she thought it did. That would not be odd at all, now that she thought about it. When she had run away from home after attacking her father, she had blanked out for an unknown period of time, and only came to herself again huddling under the eves of a barn in a horrid downpour. The rain stopped after about an hour, and she found herself just a few miles from London. It was then she decided to just stay and try to make a living there. And again, just today if it was even the same day, she had not even remembered getting up to this room on the second floor, and she had no idea how long she had been there.
Linnet started a bit when he scrambled to his feet, unsettled by the sudden movement. She realized then just how jumpy she was getting. It was unusual even for her to be this bad. She fully opened the door and slipped out, leaving it ajar. Linnie kept her eyes lowered for a minute, unable to meet his. She took a deep breath and smoothed her skirts with a shaky hand. She really had to calm down. She sensed that if she kept on at this high level of terror, she might die of fright. Though she did not realize this specifically, she understood the dire need to calm herself. Taking another deep breath, Linnie gathered the courage to look up at James, noticing as he scrunched his eyebrows for a moment, and she wondered what the expression meant.
Before she could become embarrassed and look away again, James began motioning. It seemed he wished to escort her, where she did not know, and James had made it obvious very early on that he would not be able to tell her much. She wondered for a moment if he could perhaps write, and distractedly stared at him. With another small start, she realized she was leaving him without a response for far too long, but she had not even considered his request. Deciding to not keep him waiting that long, she gave him a small quick curtsy and took his arm with her left arm, but her right hand had already begun fingering the knife hidden in the sash of her dress.
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