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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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?"

Slowly and gingerly he pulled his knees towards his chest and rested his chin on them. The shaking wasn't getting any better, but he felt a little more secure as he pulled himself into a smaller target. Protected.

"I'll wait, if that's ok?" he said softly, watching for a sign of anger or frustration from her at his refusals. The idea of being somewhere where he couldn't see or defend himself if they came...

"Of course, I just worry for your comfort," she admitted softly. "If I offend please tell me?" Best to ask?

Yes.

"Would you care for a blanket?" as he waited?

The barest nod and a quiet "thank you" before he settled into himself. He didn't rest; no, he couldn't rest. Not until he knew he was safe. He hadn't truly seen Rachel in a fight, so believing that somehow anyone coming after them were a "paste" was a little difficult.

He waited, eyes fixed on the door as he strained to hear anything that might tip him off that someone had made it onboard.

She brought a thick, soft quilt at that thanks, obviously handmade and smelling of clean herbs?

It was perhaps another half an hour then there was calls of "get us out of the dumpster fire!"

"Yes captain!"

"That Terran okay?"

"With Khem!" Rachel called easily.

"Good good, I should see her..."

..."why are you bleeding this time?"

"They didn't want to give me the info, stop fussing Rach!"

Khem blinked at the door and stood, already pulling bandaging!

The blanket was soft, softer than anything he'd had since home. He drew it closer around him, not registering the mess he was likely making of it, and set his nose to it as he watched. He breathed in the scent of it, letting it trigger nearly forgotten memories as he tried not to drift off.

His eyelids were heavy by the time he heard the commotion outside, and they snapped open as Khem started moving about with purpose. He didn't say anything, but with a barely audible hiss of pain rocked forward to squat on his heels. He would be ready if their people were being pursued onto the ship.

A man who seemed larger than he was came sweeping in, one of four thin arms held awkwardly and both sword and pistol on hi hip. "Ah, man of the hour, hello," he nodded to Jason cheerfully as there was the telltale shiver of a ship leaving mag lick.

"Captain," Khem sighed, already peeling the man's sleeve aside, "this is a blaster wound..."

"I promised not to let them stab me!" He grinned, not flinching in the least as Khem set to cleaning. "And Rach was busy."

"Rach unlocked the other ships so anyone making a run didn't get stuck...but can'tcome after us either," Rachel hummed, leaning in the door.

The room was suddenly very full and he made careful note of where everyone in it stood. Their Captain was injured, but was both armed and had extra arms. Jason stayed where he was, using the blanket to mask his body's positioning in case he quickly needed to run or fight.

He was considering returning the Captain's greeting when he felt the floor beneath him shudder. "Are we moving?" he asked anxiously.

The uninjured set of arms was being crossed against the captain's chest harmlessly if that helped at all? "Yes, better to have this hellhole behind us. Rach?"

"Mmm?"

"Take him to observation window?"

"If you want," Rachel nodded, eying Jason.

He stood slowly and set the blanket on the nearest clean surface, his muscles stiff and shaking from exhaustion. Exhausted, but still prickling with nervous energy.

We're really getting away...

He moved to follow Rachel, easing around the room to avoid turning his back on anyone.

"You can keep the blanket lord," Khem noted gently, not looking up from the captain's arm.

"She gives blankets to everyone," Rachel chuckled. "But we can swing back for it if you want. C'mon, the air garden and observation window is the same place..." Down the halls a bit then an open, plant filled space and a wide arc of glass!

He eyed the blanket, but he wanted his hands free. "Maybe later?" he responded quietly to Khem without looking at her.

He followed Rachel closely, listening for anyone who might be following them down the hall as he waited to see what the Captain wanted her to show him. He slowed as they approached the air garden, blinking at the sight of plants and taking in the fresh scent. He reached out as they neared, fingers brushing a leaf in near wonder. He hadn't seen plants in so long...

He didn't linger too long as Rachel continued to the observation window, but tried to take everything in as he passed the greenery.

"Air cycling, but mainly the plants are for Khem and Cook," Rachel admitted with a small smile, pausing so he could touch things. "Everyone can spend time here, relax and such, just be aware you might be set at gardening sometimes." Thankfully weeds were hard to come by in space but there was still maintenance to do!

"Annnnnd window. There's the station," she pointed off to the far left.

He stopped in front of the window, eyes widening. It was...terrifying. He'd been given a glimpse outside only once before when he'd first been taken. They had fought every moment their captors tried to handle them, and once had made it into the corridors when they'd overpowered their guards and tried to escape. It was meant to show them that there was no point in trying to escape. And then they heavily secured in the airlock and shown how that worked to really drive the point home...

Just before them loomed the station they'd just come from, rapidly beginning to shrink into the distance. Small objects, must be ships, were streaking from the station in all directions, but nothing seemed to be in pursuit of them. He drew in a breath that shook unexpectedly.

He was free from The Masters.

He just stood in shock, staring and trembling.

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