futures_of_ash | Werewolves are great crewmen!

Entry tags:

Werewolves are great crewmen!

Who: Rach and crew
When: Sometimes. IN SPACE.
What: It's an AU. IN SPACE.

She leaned her elbows on the low wall, ignoring the occasional catcall. The people behind the wall didn't matter, or the stands as long as the guards continued to not see her. Or the scalpers, because honestly, she would not handle being propositioned well right now. There'd been some rumors of Terrans that had made a splash in the ring...

Or so the fight drummers called out when she'd been walking past with the captain. "Terrans," he noted quietly to her.

"On it," she agreed, slipping away.

It seemed more accurate to say one Terran was making a splash, but viciously so none the less? Hmmm. ::They say you're contagious,:: she noted mentally when he was given a moment to rest. If he scanned the crowd he could see a red haired woman not at all concerned with leaning partially into the ring.

The usual round of security were wandering by, though one was snarling, watching a device in his hand, "Psy readings, I swear, but nothing to pinpoint, I swear if it's those damn white noise mice under the arena again..."

Rachel grinned, an expression more felt as she looked at him than anything else, ::go ahead and think at me hmmmm?:: As long as he had a mind to think with in that battle frenzy?

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She nodded, touching the top of his head gently for a moment before padding out of the room.

That let the cat ease forward and touch his forehead with her nose, checking for further damages. Finding just lingering aches she shifted back in a blur of mist, a shipsuit making the shift with her, and fingers on his shoulder, "I can aid with the rest if you allow."

He didn't open his eyes until the touch of that wet nose and blearily saw the cat at his forehead shift into human form. There was distrust in his eyes, but it eased ever so slightly in noticing she was a sort of shifter as well.

He swallowed again, beginning to tremble again. "'m healing it," he rasped. "How...can you..."

Even any injuries from the arena fights that evening were well on their way to being healed, but they'd taken a backseat to the more grievous injury when the chip was removed. He didn't even notice some of the stunner burns and bruises blossoming from his fight with the guards, but even they were milder than they should have been on anyone else.

Milder was all well and good but she was laying hands on his shoulders properly to pour healing back along his system. It was different from his innate ability but no less strong for it! That and she worried about the chip area a great deal and would probably fret about it for some time to come honestly. "I am a healer. Such is rare I am aware, yes, but you need not suffer unduly with us."

He relaxed slightly under her touch, but still had nervous tension running through his thin frame. He'd had healers of a sort tend to him after bad fights or beatings, and they all did their best with gentle hands and pity in their eyes, but in the end he was always returned to The Masters.

It still hadn't registered to him that he was somewhere new or that he might have actually made if off that damned ship.

Edited 2021-12-11 05:47 (UTC)

"...you are afraid..." she blinked down at him, eyes shimmering more toward gold for a moment. "I don't believe any lord has ever feared me..." She had no idea how to handle that honestly.

At all.

"I can shield you if you like Khem," Rach noted as she came back with a tray for Jason. Some form or braised ribs, bone in, and a rich stew!

"No, thank you Lady, I prefer to be able to help him, shielding my senses at all may hinder that."

The smell of the food made for conflicting sensations: Hunger from being so weak after shifting back and forth and healing, but also the nausea and exhaustion from exactly the same.

And while he'd been properly fed as a fighter, it wasn't exactly gourmet.

Shakily, he tried to push away from the pair and into a vaguely sitting position, leaving streaks of blood everywhere and not succeeding well on his own.

Rachel set the tray by his knee and held a hand out he could accept it or not as an aid upright?

Khem...nodded once the worse of the chip damage was done and stood to go fetch a bason and rag to work on the blood...everywhere yes.

"So. I'm Rachel. I'm weird. This is Khemrys, she's our doctor, medic, herbalist, anything like that ask her she has a lot of knowledge okay? This ship is the Lark, you'll see more of it once you're out of medbay."

"Lady Rachel, I am certain captain gives you positions..." Khem sighed.

"I'm bad official titles."

He stared for a long, long moment, considering that hand before weakly (for him) grasping it and letting her help pull himself more upright. He was still breathing heavily, his eyes unblinking but still not completely focused.

"Jason," he rasped quietly.

His eyes made rapid flicks to scan the surroundings without taking his eyes off the two women. "We're off? We made it off?" he asked shakily.

She just helped exactly enough to get him upright then she was shifting the tray to his lap and plopping on the floor crosslegged, easier to carry a conversation that way! "Yes Jason, though technically still docked there since Captain is still on the station and chaos is running rampant in there, but something dropped you through your chip at the boundary so got you to Khem soonest."

"The chip is against the wall, if you wish to keep it?" Khem offered. "Cook kept his, years ago, to put in the one who wronged him I believe..."

Anxiety flooded through him again, visible in the tension that came springing back into his body. "Still docked..."

So they could still find him. Drag him back.

He shook his head, ignoring the wavering of the figures in his vision as he did. "No."
Whether this was to Khem's question or his appraisal of the situation...or both? It was hard to tell.

"They can't take you," Rachel noted simply. "Anyone who isn't our crew coming to our dock end is now a fine paste."

"Lady Rachel..." Khem sighed.

"...I had permission!"

"Alright, and this is a terrible place to do such to others, but the captain will track it in..."

"...I'll clean the floor? Eat, Jason, you need the calories, then you can pick a bunk and such?"

If they were still docked, there was no part of him that could believe that they couldn't get to him, even after seeing whatever this...Rachel was able to do.

He watched the two of them banter playfully.

It's a dream. This is a dream.

He carefully reached for the bowl, not taking his eyes off them. He couldn't remember the last time he'd smelled anything like it. Weakly, he raised the bowl to his lips and took a small sip, still watching them intently. He almost winced at the sudden explosion of flavor in his mouth, and he blinked in shock as he set the bowl back down.

Rachel blinked, attention caught by the shock more than anything, "if it's reassuring I'll go watch the door fully?"

Khem nodded, "trauma and shock, Lady, are not often easy on a mind."

She nodded, standing, "scream if you need me."

Khem just shook her head gently and made shooing motions before returning to dealing with the blood.

He watched Rachel leave, and when she was gone turned his attention back to the healer. Khem. After blankly watching her cleaning up puddles of blood, his eyes suddenly widened. "No! Don't...don't touch it."

He had been very careful to not let on to The Masters that lycanthropy could be bloodbourne: they had tried their best to get him to infect others in as many ways as they could think up. A few had been infected by his blood, but he'd been aware of the transition before they were, especially with no full moon in space to force their bodies into that first transformation. He'd managed to find a way to kill them before their infection could be verified.

He still wasn't sure of all of this, but this one seemed genuinely kind and he didn't want to have to kill her.

"It cannot harm me lord," she chuckled softly. "A poor healer I would be if such could counter my own ability. I had fingers in your neck after all yes?" Just to illustrate? "Please do eat, you will think better when your body is more stable."

Though if speaking was reassuring...? "You are not the first of us to come in such state, sorry though I am to see any damaged so."

He blinked. She had. He reached up and gingerly fingered the slowly healing wound at the back of his neck.

She'd also shifted. But...blurrily? He cycled back to the assumption that this must be a dream. Still, he retrieved the bowl and took another careful sip.

"Terrans?" he asked, remembering what had spiked Rachel's interest in him back in the arena.

Yes, indeed she had, on both counts he seemed to be questioning!

"A world I am told that you and the lady Rachel share, though different versions of such. Some fell harvesters have learned to cross, hmmm, dimensions? To take from many ersions of the same world."

He stared at her with incomprehension and took another sip of soup. The intense flavor was starting to acclimate in his mouth, but he could still manage only sips of the rich stew.

"Were there others? Terrans? From The Masters?" They were kept fairly isolated: small groups packed into cells and kept away from each other, but no one was ever around long enough to really form bonds. Less successful Masters would pay premium for a winning fighter to bolster their fights, and the others...usually ended up dead. Not in every fight, but if someone was consistently losing fights, they'd find themself in a deathmatch very soon.

"I don't know," she admitted honestly. "I do not leave this ship, but we could ask when the others return? Is there another you wish to find?" She finished with the floor and was shifting to wipe down his back now?

He didn't answer but returned to his soup. He watched keenly as she approached, and though he tried he couldn't help the subtle flinch as she touched him. Clearly more out of fear than pain, but the reminders of pain were scattered across his back. Small scars, stunner burns, a myriad of injuries from the arena that had either been to big for him to heal cleanly at the time, or could have healed if he'd have been willing to shift for them. Mostly he was too stubborn to give them the pleasure of forcing him to shift. But sometimes he simply gave in, quenching his own bloodlust to the elation of The Masters.

He took another sip of soup, a longer one this time, no longer watching her but very much aware of where she was.

The flinching was certainly signal enough that she set the bowl and rag down and came back around to where she was visible yes, "if you prefer lord, I'll show you to the unoccupied cabins and you may bathe yourself?" If he could stand?

She could wait until he finished his meal though.

"And in time, should you wish, I may aid with scars."

He made to shake his head, which ended up being a mistake. His neck was healing, but as the adrenaline of recent events began to fade he was left feeling every injury. And exhaustion. The fine tremors he'd been having earlier were growing more pronounced, and he was starting to visible tremble.

"No," he answered, and after a pause added, "Thank you."

Again, it was unclear as to which question he was answering. He continued to watch her warily: she seemed legitimately caring and kind, but even those who had treated him kindly in the past had wanted something in return. Maybe she was just trying to help; or maybe there was an ulterior motive for getting him cleaned up and into a private room. But honestly, if it meant not having to go back to the fighting pits, he could deal with that.

It was difficult to think clearly and it was easier to just respond by rote until these stranger's intentions were clear.

And until he could be certain they'd gotten away.

She actually winced, reaching forward when she realized he was going to shake his head, "no don't..." eh, he figured it out. A brief brush of fingers to ease more of the bruising and sudden pain!

Then she was leaning back again, looking worried but..."as you like, lord. I can show you the sinks in here and you have my cot? I can go elsewhere should you wish..." because her small nook was more comfortable than a medical table?

"No..."

His teeth chattered slightly with a particularly strong tremor. He would not let himself give in to exhaustion yet. His eyes flicked to the door where Rachel had disappeared.

"Will we leave soon?"

Alright? It was hard to parse what that no referred to but the direct question had been if he wished her to leave, so she'd assume that for now? "Likely? This was not to be a long stop I believe, Captain wished to cripple trade rates I believe, so once he's back..."

She rose gracefully, taking the now cool water basin to a a frosted glass door, "washroom is here, lord, if you wish, it is not a full system such as the cabins have but works well?"

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