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Post by tsukikoko on May 26, 2020 5:24:21 GMT -6
How long had it been since she'd slept? Two days? Nearly three?
Sara rubbed her eyes, exhaled a trembling breath and braced both hands against the bedroom wall. In her peripherals, the bed she and Aaron had shared, usually such an inviting place, had lain empty and ignored for many hours now. The shifter's body wanted to sink down to the sheets, craved it as fatigue nipped her heels. More than once, she'd approached, sat down on the edge, even sagged as though she might fold like a deck of cards onto the sheets. But then her mind would race, visions and screams would crowd: Koji's, her own, overlaid into a mangled cry of agony; Aaron's battered body, replacing the Genasi's upon the hospital bed, only to swim back into focus as Koji once again; Isaac's expression, so shocked by her discoveries, the crushing sadness that followed, elation later while alongside Tsu and now... a gaping hole where her friend should have been. Adrenaline would spike, force her exhausted body awake once again. Guilt and helplessness, a bitter, choking sludge in the throat, would force her to pace, work, search nearly blindly for solutions even when she could barely remember what she'd done or read ten minutes prior.
It reared again now, as she leant her head against the smooth, hard surface of the wall and had the audacity to close her eyes. Tears welled, hot and prickly behind her eyes. Borne of frustration, irritability and desperation to both help others and to sleep, the shifter held all but one streak of that salty liquid back, not wanting Aaron to see her upset when he had enough of his own problems to deal with. Before remember that, of course, he wasn't home right now. Yet, even with that recollection, a stubborn and perhaps confused part of her still held the tears back.
If she could just get out of the house, run somewhere... but no, it wasn't safe to do that, not with all that had happened. While she might be extraordinarily tired, even now she knew such a thing would be a very, very bad idea, worse than when she was well rested, even. But she couldn't leave her mountain house, go back and let Aaron come home to see her in this state, nor could she go to the WDSA and lock herself in her lab for a while. Never mind the questions that might be asked about her health, or the people she might concern, or snap at in her current state of irritability, just attempting to drive there would be a recipe for road accident disaster. She'd never be able to stay awake at the wheel. Even Bruse she'd snapped at...
A low, keening sound filled the air. It took a few seconds of processing before Sara realised it had come from her own mouth. She couldn't carry on like this.
Before she knew it, the shifter had dragged out her phone and managed to tap out a message without conscious thought, even despite the long periods of darkness that made up each blink. In her sleep-deprived state, desperate for a safe, secure place to unravel her thoughts, Sara's instinctive hindbrain reached for one person in particular; <Hey Caz can I, cann we talk,.. I neeeed.. xanmm Can Icrashh in a cirner? Plese?> Her thumb passed over the send button, the world plunged into brief darkness yet again.
After yet another period of microsleep and having stuttered back into wakefulness to read and re-read what stared back at her from the illuminated screen about three times, Sara abruptly realised what she had done. She swore under her breath, powered down the screen as though that would somehow stop the message from having been sent in the first place, only to turn it back on again a moment later just to give her shaking hands something to do. Again she tried to read the words, realised her prose was littered with spelling errors, words she'd meant to delete only to instead key incorrectly, and yet again felt as though she was going to cry.
Maybe she could send another message, apologise, tell him to ignore what she'd just written? Knowing Casmir, that wouldn't put him off the trail any. If anything, he'd think she was in more trouble if she tried to cover it up. She probably shouldn't be sending too much over the BBS, had she already crossed a line with that first one? Still... she should try to make amends, she shouldn't be dragging him into this.
The shifter's fingers hovered over the screen, her brain churning in an attempt to make a decision, complete the dexterous task of using the device in her hands. Instead, she simply stared down at it, watching as the screen swam in and out of focus. She hesitated, even longer than her impaired cognition could be blamed for. Because a part of her, a selfish, traitorous part, wanted him to respond, wanted to see him and feel the instinctive security generated by his nearness. To crawl into a corner of his safehouse and hide away from all that was happening, just for a little while. It wanted to vent, spew all the swirling, tormented thoughts in her head and maybe, just maybe, manage to collapse afterwards so that she could sleep.
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Post by luscen on May 26, 2020 5:45:01 GMT -6
The reply felt like it took ages. However, after what was likely only a few minutes, there was a terse response that flashed on Sara's phone:
"Five minutes. Stay there."
Five minutes. Five long, agonizing minutes. How exactly Casmir was going to manage to get from wherever he was to Sara's house in that span of time was a question the redhead may as well have not bothered asking; the Hunter had his own unique ways of covering ground.
The seconds slowly ticked by. One minute. Then two. After what felt like a hour, it was four. Finally, there was a very specific rap in the form of the “shave and a haircut” couplet on the windowpane coming from the right of the shifter's bed. From outside the window, Sara could see the silhouette of a figure with a long duster covering its hunched-over form, a bit of blonde hair illuminated by the sparse moonlight, and a mismatched red-and-blue gaze looking into her room straight at her.
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Post by tsukikoko on May 26, 2020 6:15:31 GMT -6
Had it been anyone else she was expecting, Sara would have shrieked at the rap upon the window. As it was, she still visibly jumped, her already racing heart climbing a few beats higher again until she felt it might burst from her chest, or send a wave of stressed dizziness crashing over her. But once she fully registered the heterochromic gaze and a familiar figure outside, the shifter felt nothing but a strong wash of relief.
She crawled across the bed to the window and leant out to it while on her knees, easing it open carefully so as not to accidentally dislodge the man somehow perched upon her window sill. "Ya know, with ya coat o' tricks an' the deep voice, ya 'ave a pretty crackin' Batman impression gannin' on, like, but I think the window's startin' tah take it a wee bit too far." The quip fell flat, partially from the dulled, exhausted tone of her voice and partially from the weak, trembling smile that barely curved her lips, nevermind getting anywhere close to reaching her eyes.
But, despite her guilt at the message and everything else going on, she was glad to see him.
"Ya comin' in?" She asked, shimmying backwards to give Casmir space if he was going to. Then, she began to apologise in a rush of breath, as she ran a hand through her hair and across her face. "Christ, I'm sorry luv, I- I shouldn't 'ave bothered ya none, like, I just- I'm- I cannae, ah..." She trailed off, having not really gotten anywhere in the first place and ran a hand again over her face, blinking rapidly and looking as though she couldn't focus on anything in particular. The shifter's entire body drooped, tail dragging limply along the floor and eyes half-lidded. Every now and again her body would twitch involuntarily, as muscles craving sugars and salt fired incorrectly. For not only had she been neglecting sleep and been highly stressed, Sara hadn't been eating particularly well these last few days either.
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Post by luscen on May 26, 2020 6:35:01 GMT -6
“You're not the first person to tell me that. I'm beginning to think at some point I should look into this character- I could probably learn a few things.” Casmir could tell at a glance that something was wrong. Not that it required someone of his expertise to judge that the redhead was missing the usual spring in her step; put simply, she looked like death warmed over: Her hair was a mess, her eyes sunken, she looked like she hadn't eaten anything all day, and it was wonder she was even on her feet, on the moment.
'Guess that explains her strange choice of font,' he mused, considering the strange message she had sent him. It didn't sound urgent, but then again there were different sorts of urgency. The question was often figuring out what type of “urgent” a particular message was.
The Hunter quietly swept into the room as Sara stepped back, landing on the carpeted floor with a light touch. The extra security wards he'd placed the last time he was here were still in effect, that much he was sure of. So danger wasn't exactly the issue. That was one relief, at least.
Casmir raised a hand to stave off Sara's stuttering apology. She didn't need to tell him she was sorry, as he had grown to become somewhat protective of her, and had considered checking in with her anyway. Once he figured out how to do so without alerting a certain “friend” of hers...
“Where's the atomic beanbag?” he asked, indicating Bruse. He could sense the thing lurking around, somewhere, or so he thought. Perhaps that mild tingly feeling giving him goosebumps was some other attack dog/spiritual bodyguard the shifter kept around for kicks. It wouldn't really surprise him any.
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Post by tsukikoko on May 26, 2020 7:06:15 GMT -6
For a few, precious seconds, a flash of Sara's usual personality shone through, in the form of a wide-eyed splutter of playful indignation, "Ya divvint know Batman? Bloody 'ell man, I'll 'ave tah educate ya sometime, like." A snort of laughter too, from Casmir's nickname of Bruse, as the shifter briefly imagined snuggling down on the back of a big, cushioned beanbag in the shape of her spiritual friend. Who knew, when she managed to figure out a way to touch him, maybe he would feel like a beanbag?
The flare of energy was short-lived, however, and left the shifter feeling even more drained afterwards. She sighed and slid her gaze away, shame burning her cheeks and tracking down her neck. "I snapped at 'im, like... I divvint want tah-" the excuses tasted like bile, "-I weren't concentratin' reet 'cause me 'ead's too full o' what's 'appened recently, an' I was tryin' tah figure somethin' owt, an' 'e was only tryin' tah 'elp an' I just... ugh, flippin' 'eck." Muscles in Sara's neck and face tensed as she set her jaw tight, thinking back on that moment. She still wasn't proud of it, had apologised profusely afterwards, but the spirit had stuck to his promise of leaving her alone for a while. Well, at a slight distance, since he didn't want to leave her truly alone.
A single huff of laughter. Flat and without humour, simply a released of her bottled emotions. "'E's still nearby though, 'e's too sweet tah leave me on me own proper, like." She could feel him now, at the end of the Bond and it was only through a reassurance that she knew and trusted Casmir that stopped the spirit barrelling in, she was sure. Her gaze tracked back up to Casmir's face, again she tried to smile, "Good thing I like ya, or 'e'd be in 'ere reet quick, like." A pause. Her eyes fell to the floor, followed by a whining cry only a hair's breadth from a sob, "I'm just so... tired Caz."
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Post by luscen on May 26, 2020 7:31:42 GMT -6
The Hunter kept his face neutral, his gaze moving briefly to the bed. The one he knew she shared with the house's other occupant. 'This is a bad idea,' he thought to himself, keeping his hands in his pockets and his expression guarded. He knew what Sara wanted, and under normal circumstances, well... he wouldn't exactly be willing to indulge her, even then. It was a dangerous thing, to allow someone else to become too comfortable with access to his Safehouse. The more people who'd been there, the more risk there'd be of someone he didn't want finding out about it. Delphi's safeguards may have been very thorough, but even still... The idea made him wary.
That said, had she asked for his company, he would have at least given her that much at least. He was fairly certain he was capable of spending time with people, if nothing else. And besides that fact, she seemed... strangely comfortable in his company. That thought was also concerning to the Hunter, though for an entirely different reason.
'Or maybe not so different, after all...' he thought, clenching his fists inside of his coat pockets. This was too risky- he should just call this off, tell her he didn't have time for this. He still needed to figure out that project he was working on, and time was running short. Besides, her personal tanning bed would probably be back soon enough, and then she'd have better company than Casmir himself could have given her...
However, looking at Sara's face, he could practically feel that she was a hair's breath away from completely shattering, and something about seeing the redhead in such an uncharacteristic state left Casmir with a knot in the pit of his stomach. Maybe... maybe it wouldn't be a terrible idea, to give her some place private to get away from everything. He just had to get her back before Trenchcoat came home, that was all.
“Follow me,” he said, though his brain immediately began to rail at him over how terrible an idea this was. The Hunter gruffly told his common sense to take a hike, however, and made his way out to the hallway. “Bring your keys. And your phone, just in case," he instructed, looking at her over his shoulder. The Safehouse, due to its nature, could receive texts, though phone calls were a different matter; apparently phone line services didn't cover “outside the metaphysical plane of reality," but wifi was just fine. He didn't bother to question it.
He made his way down the stairs and to the front door, the shifter in tow, then stepped over the threshhold. Once the two of them were outside, Casmir closed the door to Sara's home, then drew a small, nondescript key out from under his collar, where it was hanging by a leather cord around his neck. He inserted the key into the lock, turned it, then opened the door again. “After you,” he offered, gesturing towards the open doorway.
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Post by tsukikoko on May 26, 2020 10:52:15 GMT -6
Were she firing on all cylinders, Sara might have asked how it was that her phone would even function in the Hunter's Safehouse. She remembered it, how bizarre the world outside the windows had been and the explanation that it sat outside 'normal' reality, so the idea that a phone was still capable of processing any kind of signal was... equally bizarre. But right now the shifter barely had the wherewithal to move her limbs correctly, never mind think about the mechanisms of extra-dimensional abodes.
Obediently, her sluggish brain grateful that someone else was making the decisions, the redhead followed Casmir's instructions with only a nod of her head to show him she was listening. What little other cognitive functions she had to spare Sara diverted into speaking with Bruse, pinging him a few attempts at messages down their shared link; not the easiest task, given how difficult concentration was at present, but she gave an admirable attempt nonetheless. Should the scarred man have looked round at the right moment, he may have seen her pause, unable to multitask when Bruse flooded her mind with concern. He wanted to go with her, was worried that while she was gone he wouldn't be able to stay in touch, that something might happen to her. The shifter tried her best to reason that she would be fine, she trusted Casmir and his home was one of the safest places she knew of, given the outside-reality nature of it. Plus, she didn't know what would happen to a being like Bruse, if he were to step into such a place. What if it hurt him?
In the end, her spiritual friend had relented and she'd blown a reassuring mental kiss down their connection. She wished she could do more, but given her physical nature and his status as a ghost, she still couldn't provide more than words and visual imaginings.
Bleary-eyed, she followed Casmir outside. Watched as he closed the door to her home, a flicker of curiosity briefly bringing a light to her eyes and colour to her cheeks, as he then withdrew a key from within his own clothes and opened the door again. Even beneath the crushing weight of exhaustion, fascination lit up inside her, to watch as the Safehouse appeared.
Then, he gestured. She took a step forward. But at the threshold, Sara paused and turned her head to look up at Casmir. In her eyes was gratitude, but also concern that she was being a burden, wasting time he might otherwise have been spending doing something more worthwhile than looking after her sorry self. In the end, the fatigued gratitude won out and she trudged her way into the semi-familiar surroundings of the Hunter's Safehouse. "Thank you." She murmured softly as she passed.
A moment later she again stopped, just a few steps inside, and turned to look back, waiting for Casmir to lead the way. For a moment, a miserable, pitiful part of her wanted to ask for a hug, but recognised at the last second that to do so would only make him uncomfortable, most likely. So, instead, she crossed her arms across her chest and essentially hugged herself, her eyes closing and forehead creasing with discomfort as another thought concerning Koji flickered across her mind.
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Post by luscen on May 27, 2020 7:08:05 GMT -6
The Hunter stood at the threshold, following silently after Sara when she turned expectantly towards him. The door closed with a soft click, and upon looking at it from this side, Sara would have noticed that, strangely, the door was the exact same style as her own. And yet, the last she'd been here, the shifter could have sworn it had been different... Perhaps a question for later, when she was more cognizant and not overwhelmed by whatever it was that was currently causing her such a severe state of distress, the scarred man watching her from the corner of his eye mused.
Casmir saw how Sara's arms slowly rose to wrap around her torso, her normally vibrant green eyes casting downward as she worried her lip. 'She wants a hug,' he realized, as two slowly walked from the foyer hallway into the living room proper. He slowly withdrew a gloved hand, tentatively reaching up while she was preoccupied with her own thoughts. A conflicted look crossed his features, brow lowering, but in the end, all the Hunter could do was lay a hand gently on her bare shoulder. “Sit down,” he suggested gently, nodding over to the sofa, where a cozy comforter hung along the back of the piece of upholstery. “I'll make you some tea. Or coffee, if you prefer; but I'll have to insist it be decaf.”
His hand twitched for a moment as he pulled it away from the redhead, turning his eyes away a little too quickly and making a beeline for the kitchen. The Safehouse resembled a rather well-kept – if modest – apartment, with hardwood floors finished in a bellawood matte that mixed light and dark patterns together in a classy mosaic of brown and tan. Along the central wall, where the living room branched off into two opposing hallways, hung a map of Wathais, with various notations and marks scrawled on it. Large bookcases lined the walls, their shelves holding a very odd assortment of poetry books, fables, myths, psychology books, and religious texts, alongside some very skillfully-crafted wood carvings of various styles. There was a standing lamp in the corner of the sofa, wedged neatly between it and the nearest bookcase, to provide some extra light for reading. A wooden coffee table sat in front of it, and atop it were a number of papers, each one with a complex series of diagrams and arrays, with a few notes scribbled on each. One in particular said “NOT ENOUGH POWER!!” and another read “WRONG CONFIGURATION.”
“There are some scones near the coffee table,” Casmir's voice came from the cranny that was his kitchen area. “Help yourself, if you'd like.”
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Post by tsukikoko on May 27, 2020 8:43:09 GMT -6
"Tea's grand, ta," Sara mumbled, unable to inject any enthusiasm even though she wanted to. Absentmindedly, as the slow churn of her brain caught up to the warm touch against her shoulder, she'd raised a hand to gently squeeze his fingers, acknowledge the physical touch and be grateful for it. But he'd already moved away. The shifter's fingers touched her own shoulder, confusion flickered across her features at the lack of Casmir's hand, before she registered that he'd already vacated the room into the kitchen. Her hand slid across her collarbones as she let gravity drag her arm down, too tired to keep it raised, until the limb fell back down to her side. She swayed on her feet, head lolling as though too heavy for her shoulders, and briefly closed her eyes.
When they opened again somehow she was beside the sofa, already falling forwards.
With the first muffled thud her body hit the furniture, while the second marked her tail slapping against the floor. The sofa was soft. Face down like this it plunged her into darkness.
The damage was extensive... tortured... might never fully recover. Screams. Can't help... too late. Useless.
With a sharp inhalation the shifter turned her head and body to the side, a ripple tracking through her flesh with a transformation that didn't take. A heavy ache, radiating from her chest, became progressively worse with each beat of her still-racing heart. It had been elevated for hours, never seeming to rest. She tracked her eyes across unfamiliar surroundings, distracting her spiralling thoughts with each new item of interest, despite not really taking in the details. Eventually, her mind didn't so much settle as at least slow a touch, enough that she simply stared straight ahead, hyper-focusing on a kink in the grain of the hardwood floor. Again and again she traced that shape, until abruptly the buzzing hum in her brain dissipated with a pop, leaving only the relative silence of Casmir's Safehouse. No cars, no chirping of birds or the sudden shrill tones of a telephone call, there were only the sounds made by the Hunter himself, as he moved about the kitchen. She hadn't heard his mention of scones, or not registered it during her blackout at least. Would have been too highly strung and overtired to want them anyway.
Thoughts came and went, her body and fingers occasionally twitching with the urge to get up, work, only to be reminded that she couldn't do that here. She was separated, secure, for just a little while.
A long, steadying breath. Sara's body, whether she wanted it to or not, sank just that little bit lower as it relaxed, unable to maintain the elevated state it had been in any longer.
From that steady release of the vice-like hold she'd kept on herself, something inside snapped, unravelled, sheared away, exposing the raw wound Sara had so desperately tried to keep hidden from those around her. She felt emotion rise, terrible and helpless, forcing its way to the surface through the gap in her exhausted defences. Until it spilled as a gut-wrenching, ugly sob and a choked breath. Her body shuddered, chest heaving for air it couldn't catch. When her tail curled reflexively between her legs she grabbed it with both arms, hugging the limb to her chest and burying her face into her own scales. Tears flowed, unstoppable now they'd begun, an outpouring of desperate frustration at her inability to keep those she loved safe, or help them in any decent capacity after horrific events had occurred. A brief thought rose, of how Casmir was sure to see her like this in a few seconds, of how pathetic she'd look and that she was inconveniencing him by even being here, which created yet another gnarled tendril of anxiety within her gut, compounded the misery within her chest. She couldn't stop, couldn't move, she could only hold on to her own tail as though it were an anchoring lifeline, and cry.
Atop Casmir's sofa she lay, clutching frantically at her own tail, her howling cries muffled but by no means inaudible.
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Post by luscen on May 27, 2020 21:19:16 GMT -6
Casmir didn't turn to look at Sara, too concerned with whether or not his action was out of line. A foolish thought, given the redhead's current state, but this was relatively unexplored territory for the Hunter; he was not one for entertaining guests, let alone women, and while he possessed more than enough skill at acting to fool most people and afford a proper rapport with those clients he met in person, the truth was that the scarred man was sorely lacking in interpersonal skills. Specifically, the ability to provide comfort to others.
So, instead he made his way straight to the kitchen and began preparing tea for Sara. He was unsure what type she preferred, so he decided to make two different kinds- black and green. He'd take the spare, whichever one she didn't want. The decision made, he pulled out two teapots- one metal and the other Chinese clay. Setting them down on the counter, he then took a large kettle and filled it with water, then set it on the stove to boil, while filling the two teapots with their respective leaves.
Casmir hadn't heard so much as a sound from the living room, yet, aside from the redhead throwing herself down on the sofa. 'Whatever happened to her must have hit her hard,' he thought, brows lowering slightly. The degree of difference between her state now and when he had first met her was like night and day, and the nature of it bothered him- had he missed something, somewhere? He hadn't seen any sign of intrusion, or indications of a fight with her boyfriend... Nothing visible, at least.
'That didn't mean they didn't have a fight.'
The water in the kettle began to boil, blowing steam out through the whistle. Casmir, stirred from his thoughts, reached for it, only to stop once he had gripped the handle. From the living room came the quiet sound of muffled sobs; heaving, ugly things that only someone who'd found no more emotional strength to give would make. The scarred man felt a lurch in his gut; she had finally hit her wall, the deluge he'd seen forthcoming finally bursting out from her. And here he was making her tea and trying to pretend he didn't hear her keening.
'Coward,' came an ugly accusation from the dark corners of his mind.
The Hunter clenched his teeth. Felt his legs tense with an irrational desire to move. 'Don't,' he scolded himself, ignoring the desire to step out of the kitchen. She wasn't in a state where she wanted to be seen by him, of that much he was certain. The whole reason she'd been in that condition, he guessed, was because she'd been trying to hold herself together. For who, or why, he couldn't be certain. But if he went out there now, he'd only make her feel worse.
'Finish the tea, first. Then you can see to her.' Hopefully, she'd have gotten some of that out of her system, and would be more receptive to his presence. So, with some effort, he refocused on making the tea, trying to ignore the quiet sobs of the redhead. His hands moved methodically, gathering up all the required pieces for the arrangement in a stilted, stressed manner.
It was the longest stretch of time he'd ever had to weather.
Finally, however, the tea was ready. He placed the two kettles onto a tray, along with a set of cups, some creamer, honey, sugar, a strainer, and a plate for the tea leaves. He carried the arrangement out, setting it on the coffee table, and sat down on the couch, keeping a mild distance between himself and his guest. Rather than bring her attention to the tea, or place a consoling hand on her, he merely waited until she was ready to respond to him.
Not that it was easy. But he'd borne more difficult tasks, before, even if it was hard coming up with one on the spot.
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Post by tsukikoko on May 28, 2020 2:57:09 GMT -6
When she heard approaching footsteps, Sara's breath hitched. The weight of another person settling on the sofa had her desperately trying to control herself, rein in the shuddering, convulsive gasps still escaping her mouth. A struggle made in vain for, in the wake of her tumultuous emotions and sleep deprivation, it seemed her body was determined to cry itself to complete exhaustion, as a means to expel some of that emotion.
Over time, the shifter's violent sobs lessened to trembles and an intermittent mewling, before finally petering out to the occasional sniffle. She still hadn't released her tail. A still silence descended, as though she might have actually cried herself to sleep. In truth, she teetered on the edge, the world outside her scales fading into obscurity, tiredness dragging her down towards oblivion.
And her own nightmares.
A sharp gasp and whole-body spasm signalled Sara jerking back to wakefulness; one foot almost kicked Casmir, her heart rate surged and each breath came rapid. For just a half second as she lifted her head and turned towards Casmir, terror from whatever visions had beset her was clear to see in her face. A blink, clarity returned. She turned her gaze dejectedly towards the floor but, though her eyes had still shimmered with the threat of them, no more tears fell. "'M sorry..." she murmured, rubbing her reddened eyes as though that might dispel the evidence of her crying.
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Post by luscen on May 28, 2020 3:06:37 GMT -6
Casmir shook his head. “Don't be,” he reassured her. He'd seen her foot moving, could have evaded it without much trouble. Hell, in her state he probably could have caught it and lifted her off the bloody couch by her ankle, easily.
“You're tired. When was the last time you slept?” he asked quietly, reaching over and pouring a cup each of the black and green tea. He carefully picked up the saucers and held them out to Sara, letting her pick whichever one interested her, more. “I wasn't really sure how you took your tea, so I left the bells and whistles off to the side. You can add however much you like, I can always get more, later.” He kept his tone steady, not too concerned. Being overly concerned would make her feel like more of a burden for impeding on his hospitality, and right now that was the last thing he wanted her to be thinking.
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Post by tsukikoko on May 28, 2020 3:45:55 GMT -6
At the offered tea, Sara lethargically unfurled herself and sat up, attempting a watery smile as she took the cup containing black tea and whispered a heartfelt 'thanks'. He was trying, keeping the tone light despite the state she was in, coming to sit with her even though he was almost certainly busy. She appreciated it, immensely.
A flicker of green eyes towards the assorted additions had her contemplating sugar, for a small dose of energy after her lack of food consumption, if nothing else. She even reached for it, dragged the sugar closer, but made no effort to actually add it to her drink in the end. Instead, she tried to recall how long it had been since she'd slept. Earlier she'd thought maybe two days, but... "Close tah three days... I think, like." The shifter stared down at her drink, cradling the cup with both hands and letting the warmth seep into her skin. She hadn't realised how cold she was, until presented with an external source of heat. The elevated beat of her heart pulsed in her ears, behind her eyes, an uncomfortable distraction.
For a moment she closed her eyes, the bridge of her nose and forehead crinkling with discomfort and on an exhalation opened her eyes to stare at the liquid once again, worried that to remain in the darkness for too long would kick off further nightmares. Words crowded in the back of her mouth as she tracked a ripple across the tea's surface, generated from the trembling of her hands. "I just-" Sara's voice was deadpan, faraway, as though she wasn't even aware she was speaking, "I keep seein'- 'e was so badly 'urt an'- 'an I cannae 'elp 'im... or anyone, I- I 'ave tah do somethin'. I-" Her fingers gripped the cup hard, turning white at the knuckles, as another shudder tracked up her back and her voice caught, trapped by the tightening of her throat.
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Post by luscen on May 28, 2020 3:58:36 GMT -6
Casmir watched her, seeing the tell-tale signs of someone who was afraid to sleep, afraid of what they'd see when the closed their eyes. It was a state he was all too familiar with, as he found there were nights he couldn't sleep either, and only a strong enough concoction would do as far as trying to find some respite from his own mind. He was wary of offering it to her, though, as he was concerned that in her state, such a thing would have too strong of an effect.
Instead, he gently took the teacup from her, placing his gloved hand over hers to calm her, before dislodging the cup from her grip. He carefully put in two cubes of sugar, followed by a bit of honey, to help calm her and produce some vital melatonin for her system. “What you should be doing,” he said calmly, handing the tea back to her. “Is drinking your tea.” He offered the redhead a small smile, really nothing more than a quirk of his lips, but it was something, at least. “You can discuss what's going on after that, if you want.”
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Post by tsukikoko on May 28, 2020 4:39:23 GMT -6
Again, that miserable, selfish part of her wanted to latch on to Casmir's hand as he laid it over her's. Grip it tight and comfort herself with the physical presence of another person; a cuddly, physically affectionate person by nature, Sara most often gave and sought solace through hugs, light touches upon the arm, or other such efforts. But she held herself back, held herself still, because she shouldn't be making him uncomfortable to make herself feel better. She was aware, from previous interactions, that he wasn't one for physical contact, generally.
A nod of tired agreement answered his instruction for her to drink. Sara took the tea, hesitated as her stomach churned with nausea at the prospect, but then obediently brought the cup to her lips. As soon as the hot, sweetened liquid touched her tongue, craving hunger lit like an inferno within her. The nausea was smothered beneath it, shoved aside as her brain and body scrambled for the sugar, desperately clawing for more. She gulped more. Burned her mouth and throat but didn't care. The influx of glucose had her trembling again, for a different reason than the earlier crying, and suddenly her stomach griped painfully with a hunger she hadn't realised was burning inside her.
By the time the shifter lowered the cup again she was panting a touch, having not pulled a breath while she drank. She glanced at the Hunter, feeling a little dizzy and more than a little unsure; she didn't know if she should say anything, despite what he had offered. Yet the temptation was fierce, the words and stresses wanting to burst out after so long fighting for scraps of space inside her. They bubbled up, putrid and vile, her body desperate to purge each one.
"A lad I care abowt was tortured, 'e lost an eye, could nowt walk proper again," she finally admitted, unable to keep it bottled any longer. But that wasn't all. "An' a good friend 'as been kidnapped. Everywhere I go, reet, there's these bloody comments," fierce, aggressive vitriol punctuated those words, an anger she couldn't rein back when coupled with her lack of sleep, "-narrow-minded, stupid words abowt 'im, an' I 'ave tah bite me tongue, like. An'- an' our Koji, 'e..." she deflated, wrung her hands anxiously, "'e needs support, 'elp, an' I just want tah do more for 'im, like. Seein' 'im like that, christ, it kills 'im tah be so damaged." A pause, the shifter then buried her face in her hands. Her tongue hurt. She couldn't stop shaking. "Sorry, sorry, god- I shouldn't... ya divvint need tah 'ear me problems, like."
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