|
Post by Kelathi on Nov 3, 2013 23:18:58 GMT
((Private between me and Red, unless she suggests otherwise. A third remake, formerly No Turning Back and before then Forever Changed. Stay tuned for angst and special powers!
Amelia has undergone a minor makeover Enjoy))
The sky was a hazy violet. It was early morning, and the snow had yet to seize. It had started deep in the night, after weeks of white candy-floss skies and the punctuation of sharp rainfall. Finally, after much deliberation… the heavens had opened.
It unfurled around her, catching her and buffeting her from the sides, enclosing her in its drift. She tugged her coat closer around herself, tipping her head down in defence against the onslaught. The snowflakes scathed her skin like shards of glass, painting her cheeks a blooming red. Her teeth shattered, her entire body shuddering when she tried to still her mouth by clenching her jaws together. The cardboard beneath her did nothing to protect her from the cold pavement beneath it, and her legs ached from the rigid posture. People passed by hurriedly, but were too busy trying to get out of the flurry to give her even a passing glance, merely a frozen statue in the background of their lives. No coins today then. It had been a brutally cold night, if she did not get anything to eat today, she was not sure she would survive the next evening. She needed food not just to silence the growls originating from her stomach, but to stay warm, and for the energy to stand at all...
Slowly, stiffly, she gave up the pursuit of relying on the kindness of strangers, and stood up, using the frozen wall behind her for support. Then, doggedly, she began to push herself through the hazy wall of blustering snowflakes, one hand raised to protect her eyes. The snow was suffocating, making it hard to see. There were no cars on the road, and the snow gathered on the ground unchallenged, smothering the world with its embrace. Finally she found what she was looking for, pushing on the glass door, the wind behind her practically pushing her in. The heat hit her first, then she was aware of a few people glancing up as she entered, but their disinterested gazes were soon diverted elsewhere. She headed straight to the toilets.
In the mirror, her wary reflection stared back at her. Her once blue eyes were pools of grey; dark smudges resting beneath them from stress and lack of sleep. Her face was smudged with dirt, and there was a small cut above her left eyebrow. She had the hardened expression of one used to hard living, and a hunted look in her eyes. But there was also an air of hopelessness about her, weariness in her countenance that overcame the dying flame of strength. On her head she wore a grey wooly hat, the fabric thin and dirtied, her lank, dark blonde hair poking out from underneath. Her tresses just about reached her chin, and were choppy and uneven, the result of her own clumsy, frostbitten hands.
Turning the tap and sealing the plug, she filled the sink with warm water, before submerging her hands. At first, even the lukewarm water was too much to handle, scalding her hands. But slowly, the pink flush returned to her hands. She sighed in relief, only realizing then that she had been holding her breath. Other than acquiring food, protection of her limbs were a priority. If she lost the use of her hands or feet she was dead already.
The last of her money, and a hot beverage later, she was back on the streets again. The drink had been the only thing she could afford on the menu, and she was not likely to obtain any more money that day when the weather drove people out of the streets. It was a small sacrifice to momentarily still the grumblings of her ever-hungry stomach. She walked all day, the movement generating warmth and procuring some feeling back into her feet, and kept her hands pushed into her pockets. But soon, evening began to creep in, and she was exhausted. The rumbling had returned to her stomach, unsatisfied with her attempt to dupe it with a warm drink, so she pressed an arm against her stomach. It eased her hunger pains somewhat, but then left her hand unprotected against the biting wind.
Eventually, cold to the bone and ready to collapse, she stumbled upon what looked to be her potential savior tonight. An aged building, the most notable aspect of the building being the remnants of a vine, once luscious in winter but now grey and leafless, trailing up the face. It was a microcosm of the whole house, broken and dead. Most of the windows were boarded up, but some the frames still held glass that were intact, albeit cracked and covered in an impenetrable dust. Hope lit in her eyes for the first time in weeks, and with a glance behind her, wandered around to the side of the house. She had to clamber over debris to get to the door, but the sound of the wind silenced her movements. She was careful to step softly, anyhow, as she didn’t want to alert anyone that she was trespassing, of course. A slight push was all it took for the door to open noiselessly, and she paused warily before stepping inside.
Shutting the door carefully behind her, she surveyed the place. The wallpaper was peeling from the walls, resembling dying flower petals and revealing the white, cracked plaster beneath. It looked as if no one had lived here in years,- just as she had hoped. It was still cold, her breath creating clouds of condensation before her face, but still reasonably warmer than outside without the constant onslaught of the frost-ridden tempest outside.
She walked through the hallway, entering the back room. It looked as if it had previously been a kitchen, the walls were boarded up, but light crept through the cracks, meaning the room was dimly lit. A door, that presumably led to outside, had been nailed shut. Deciding that she’d rather be in a room where there was more than one exit, she turned to leave, but was shocked into stillness as she heard a thundering of footsteps down the stairs. Her heart leapt into her throat, but there was no time, and suddenly there was an explosion of movement, something firing through the doorway, and a collision that knocked her off her feet...
|
|
|
Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 3, 2013 23:45:49 GMT
“Stupid weather… I thought it wasn’t supposed to snow until the weekend…!”
The muttering had come from upstairs, and one of the few rooms that didn’t have a crack that let the cold wind in. He’d been told it was a major fixer-upper, that he might do better to get the few thousand in sale than trying to repair it. But his mother always spoke so fondly of the old place that when he had inherited it, it had become a mission to repair it back to its former glory.
However, when he decided to keep it, it had been summertime, if near the end. By the time the paperwork had been finished, it was already fall. He’d managed to get the electrical and main water fixed, but the cracks in the rooms only showed themselves after the cold had started creeping in. And he was still having difficulty with the central heating, not like it could do much with all the holes. He’d just have to wait until the snow faded enough to patch up those broken windows, the bad pipes, and then he’d have a place to hibernate with paint buckets, caulking and any other sort of home improvement tools he’d eventually need.
At least he could take a hot shower… the steam rose from him and made it cloudy in the bathroom, which had just recently been touched with cold air. Despite being in his early thirties, his long dark hair was streaked with grey, now a flat wet mass against his back as he let the water hit his throat, the steam going straight up his nose and warming him from the inside out. But as wonderful as the water felt, it didn't stop the fact that he was still irked at the weather, evidenced in that he kept cursing it every so often. He was supposed to install that last pipe in the main heater vent today, damnit… that area was now too cold for him to even sit in for more than about ten minutes. That was really why he was in the shower now, trying to thaw out after trying. Dinner was going to have to wait until he was out.
As hungry as the two could get, the Great Danes that were waiting were comfortably – and completely – sprawled out in front of the two main heaters in the bedroom, ignoring their beds in the corner, which was just that little bit colder. They were warm and dry after their playtime earlier in the cold air, but when it had started to snow they’d been brought back in. It was a relaxed evening, which the two dogs loved, even though the younger was growing restless, evident in that the black and white paw kept batting at the black dog’s tail, whining when he didn’t even get a complaint.
Getting up due to sheer boredom, the black and white Dane nudged open the door of the bedroom, shaking a little as the shift in temperature hit him. Panting and grinning as he trotted towards another room to fetch his beloved rope toy, he paused when he was next to the stairs, ears pricking at hearing something below. Rather than grow territorial and start barking, his tail began to wag at the sounds of a person, racing down the steps without bothering to put on the brakes when he found what he was looking for: a girl, who he knocked clean over with a bit of a grunt, immediately licking her face and barking in greeting.
The barking got the other dog’s attention, her ears pricking straight up as she started to growl, barking sharply. This was the bark that alerted her owner, who paused to listen before shutting the water off, grabbing a robe and tying it in place as he followed the black dog down the stairs back to the first floor, shivering from the cold blast of the second floor as he passed.
“Cyrus? Cyrus!” he called out, the black dog staying devotedly close to her master and barking like mad, growling in between bursts. The dog on top of the girl, meanwhile, turned his head to look towards the sounds of the others, but whined and licked at the girl’s face again, rolling off of her onto his back with the most pleading set of puppy dog eyes possible.
|
|
|
Post by Kelathi on Nov 4, 2013 0:08:00 GMT
Amidst the chaos, she somehow managed to register that the beast that had just cannon-balled into her was not a beast at all, just a large, overly-friendly dog. Friendly, by the fact that he rolled off her soon afterwards, and the tongue that lolled from his mouth was dripping with saliva, not blood, and her throat was still intact. Recovering quickly from the shock, she leapt back up, her heart racing and her head pounding. The dog dropped down, his chest close to the floor, his rear-end sticking up, clearly an invitation to play. She put out a hand, more to shield herself should he try to jump again, and the voice that came was punctuated with gasps as she tried to refill her lungs with the breath he had knocked out of them. "There boy… calm down…" But she paused again, turning pale when she heard the barking from upstairs. That, now, did not sound friendly. Even worse was the sound of footsteps…
Shit! Shit! Mind racing, she ran to the nailed door, thinking she may be able to force it open, but a quick jolt revealed that no, she could not. The dog followed, looking perplexed, tail still wagging excitedly. The door was not a good plaything, but perhaps the human was trying to show him something interesting?
Trapped, she did the only thing she knew to do, and pulled out her only form of defence.. A long rusty nail she had scavenged from the street, one that had proved very useful so far, and readied herself for whatever, or whoever was about to walk through the door. The dog continued to look perplexed, obviously undisturbed by the girl, even if she was now brandishing a weapon of some kind.
Although she stood ready, tense and determined, she struggled to keep the fear off her face. She hadn't come this far just to be mauled by a dog, or attacked by some angry lodger all for the sake of a warm place to sleep for the night! No, she would not go down without a fight. But it was the memory of having being attacked by a dog before that made her legs turn to lead, unwilling to risk a run towards the door in the hallway lest she not get there in time.
|
|
|
Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 4, 2013 1:12:58 GMT
The dog, Cyrus, followed her with an absolutely perplexed expression that was mirrored in his uneven following of her. What was she trying to do? Hadn’t she come to play with him and save him from utter boredom until dinner arrived? His attention was diverted when he finally realized his name was being called, turning around to bark happily. The source of the angry barking became clear very soon after, as the sleek black dog came in, ears pined flat. Even though she had her head lowered, she was visible bigger than the other dog, who whined when she kept up her growl. A long nick in her ear, however, showed that she had more reason to be wary of strangers than the giant puppy beside her.
“Daphne! Cyrus? Where are you two-?” came the beginnings of a panicked call as the owner came around the door, stopping dead in his tracks at seeing… a bedraggled homeless girl being cornered by both his dogs. “Who’re you?” he asked, suddenly very self-conscious in his bathrobe, still dripping water from the shower he had exited just a minute ago. “What are you doing in my house? This… this place isn’t abandoned,” he asked, then recalling the condition on the outside, tried to clarify the information. When the black dog’s growl grew a little louder, he moved forward to get the dog’s attention, she jumping a little even as the growl cut out. “Easy, Daphne… easy,” the man soothed, scratching one ear and clearly calming her down, although with the girl’s weapon still visible, she was still very much on edge.
It was more for the dog’s sake than the girl’s that he was calming Daphne down, however, looking back up at the intruder. “You didn’t get kicked out of the shelter downtown, did you?” he asked, knowing it was a slightly rude question – alright, very rude – but the girl was an intruder. And he was already uncomfortable, growing cold with nothing but a bathrobe and two dogs between him and this strange girl.
|
|
|
Post by Kelathi on Nov 4, 2013 1:31:07 GMT
As the other dog burst into the room, a stark contrast to the friendliness of the first, she was not surprised, and she held herself steady, waiting for the impending attack. When the man who followed, however, was revealed not to be a bedraggled, toothy old man in tattered clothes... she was indeed surprised. He was wearing a bathrobe and was well-groomed, in fact, he looked completely out of place against the backdrop of this derelict house. How was she to know that someone was living here so comfortably? Although the fact that he was not a squatter greatly reduced the possibility of her being mauled to death, the actually presented more problems. Had he been a squatter like herself, there would have been a battle of wills, perhaps slipping into a fight if neither wanted to give up their position. But it would only have been between them two.
But now... Not only had she trespassed, but she had also threatened him. She realised exactly how this looked, and therefore exactly how this would go down at the police station… There would be no mercy there. She had seen how they dealt with kids on the street. She was an adult now, if only in her early twenties, her pleads would get her no sympathy. Panic flashed in her eyes, and she was quick to try and rectify the situation.
"Oh god." She muttered, realising her predicament. She hastily dropped the nail, as if it had burned her, and took a step back from the man. "I'm sorry... I didn't reali… I didn't... Look, please don't call the police." she pleaded. She couldn't go to jail, not now she was finally free from her former prison… And she couldn't escape, he was blocking the only exit. She rushed to explain, but could see no reason why the man would let her off. She suddenly felt as if she was sinking, nausea from the lack of food and sleep catching up with her, now coupled with the fear of being arrested.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realise this place wasn't abandoned, and I didn't reali… Please, just let me leave, no harm done."
|
|
|
Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 4, 2013 2:14:51 GMT
This girl was positively terrified, although if it was because of the dogs or because of the fact that she had accidentally trespassed he wasn’t sure. But she had certainly earned his sympathy when she began to apologize, begging him not to involve the police. Daphne had calmed at seeing the nail being dropped, even pricking her ears forward a little out of a growing curiosity. But Jesse was beginning to be reminded of another scrawny, bedraggled figure needing help, several times many years earlier. It was the memories of his own moments being that way that got him to do something that, on the face of it, was highly unanticipated.
Jesse took a hesitant step forward, offering a hand, palm up to show he was holding nothing. “Hey… it’s alright. You… you can’t go outside in this weather. You can stay until the storm’s over. Are you alright? You look… um…” What, pale? Skinny as a rail due to lack of food? “Are you hungry? We were going to have dinner in just a little… you can join us,” he went on to say, completely missing the fact that the dogs constituted the company he was going to be eating with. Considering how big they were, though, it wasn’t entirely foolhardy to think they were big enough to eat at the table.
|
|
|
Post by Kelathi on Nov 4, 2013 2:33:13 GMT
When he stepped forward, she took an automatic step back, the defence mechanism stepping in. At his words, she looked thoroughly confused. It took her a moment to register exactly what he was saying. He wasn't going to call the police, but he was… offering her to stay? For food? At the thought, pain suddenly laced through her stomach, the hunger pains that always seemed to be present. Well, she knew what her body wanted. She glanced down at the dog that had been growling. It was quiet now, looking at her with a wary gaze, but otherwise looking quite unthreatening.
Was this a trap? No… why would he want to trap her, anyway? It didn't make sense. But she hadn't survived this long by being trusting. She'd said she would just leave, if he'd let her. Why on earth would he want to invite her for tea, instead? Nobody was this generous, even if they did look as open and honest as he did right now. She was not particularly gifted at reading people's true intentions, therefore It was difficult to tell whether the concern on his face was genuine or not.
"I… I couldn't. I'm… I'm not homeless." She stuttered. It was an obvious lie, otherwise why would she have been sneaking in, in the first place? "I mean, I have somewhere to go." She added lamely. Whatever his hidden intentions, maybe if she implied that there was someone waiting, who might worry about her, he would think twice before trying anything deceitful. But… despite her reservations, the promise of a hot meal… It made her feel weak at the knees just thinking of leaving now. But she couldn't stay in this strangers home, could she?
Well… what would be so bad about one meal? If he tried anything she could just up and leave… of course, she would have to deal with the dogs… But it was worth the risk if it meant a hot meal in her stomach. But she had already said no… She was regretting her answer already. Damn her wariness! It might well have cost her a hot meal.
|
|
|
Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 4, 2013 2:48:49 GMT
“It’s alright, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Jesse tried to soothe at seeing her back away, recognizing the fear. “Well, homeless or not, that storm isn’t going to let up anytime soon. Come on. It’s cold out here… there are heaters upstairs. Let me… um…” He seemed to remember that he was in just a bathrobe, a part he didn’t recall from his own memories, adding in, “I’ll… get dressed and make dinner. And you can take a shower. This place still needs work on the central heating, but at least I got the hot water going.”
Hopefully that didn’t sound perverted in any sort of way… but knowing how scared she was, she might take that entirely in the wrong direction…
“C’mon, you two,” Jesse noted to the two dogs as he moved towards the stairs, Daphne following faithfully, but Cyrus lingered around the girl, licking at her cold hand with an encouraging wag of his tail. This opened the space so that if she really wanted to bolt, she could. Jesse hurried up the stairs, realizing how cold his feet were getting. He’d need socks, sweats… and maybe a dry robe over the lot to try and warm himself up until he got the oven and stove going.
|
|
|
Post by Kelathi on Nov 4, 2013 3:10:04 GMT
At his words, her countenance didn't seem to change, so when he left, it was not clear as to whether she would bolt there and then… or decide to stay. In fact, the stranger had done the best thing he could have done at that moment. By leaving her, he had illustrated that she really was free to leave if she wished, she was no-ones prisoner.
It seemed obvious to her now what she should do. She simply couldn't pass up this opportunity. She had turned him down, and he had given her a second chance, so she grasped it, and despite everything, allowed the flame of hope to flicker, if only temporarily. The first dog seemed reluctant to leave, the feel of his warm tongue on her frozen hand jolting her into movement and making her aware of his lingering presence. She looked down at him, and gently scruffed him between the ears, which he seemed to enjoy. She glanced about herself, searching, and found a switch on the wall, which at a press turned on the lights. That was when she noticed that the kitchen didn't look as neglected as it had in the half-light. If only she had seen it in the light, she would have noted how the cooker was old, but clean, and there was a fridge in the corner that was obviously in use. Only the walls and the boarded up windows created the illusion of abandonment, the rest of the room, although bare, spoke of day-to-day use.
There was no table or chairs, however, so she wondered where they were going to eat. Upstairs perhaps? He had said there were heaters upstairs, so it made sense if he had rearranged things upstairs so that he could predominantly stay up there. As a second thought, she picked the rusty nail back up, and pushed it back into her pocket. She had no intention to use it here, unless of course things turned awry, but she would need it when she left to brave the streets again. As she waited, she leant up against the cupboards, wrapping her arms about herself and tucking her hands under her armpits, surpressing a shiver. But the promise of hot food kept her hopes high, and she was incredibly patient for someone who was near-starving, and almost ready to collapse.
|
|
|
Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 4, 2013 5:39:27 GMT
Jesse’s presence coming back down was made clear when his steps were accompanied again by the sound of nails on the wooden steps, Daphne once more coming into view. She wasn’t entirely certain of how she felt about the stranger, evidenced by how she sniffed towards the girl, but her ears didn’t lay back down. She would be tolerated by the dog, at least, if not accepted. Jesse, meanwhile, was more on Cyrus’s side in terms of trusting, and as he came back down – in a dry robe on top of sweat clothes – he was rubbing at his hair with a towel, leaving it in an almost humorous disarray.
“Okay, uh, third floor, turn to the left and first door you come to has a shower. And I think some extra clothes, if you, um, want to change.” Jesse tried hard not to approach the girl again as he moved past her as she waited in the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a bag of vegetables and what looked like some sort of roast ready for sticking in the oven. As cold as the surfaces there were, he knew they would soon warm up with the oven and stove, a pot of hot water awaiting its contents. “It’s warmer upstairs. I’ll bring the food up when it’s ready, but it’ll be a while. There’s, uh… there’s some snacks and stuff in the fridge if you want.” Naturally, the dogs became invested in what Jesse was doing when the meat was brought out, both noses pushing the other away in order to get closer to sniff at it. It was just enough training to keep them from dragging it off the plate it was sitting on.
|
|
|
Post by Kelathi on Nov 10, 2013 0:19:02 GMT
She nodded her head slightly at his words, but it seemed he didn’t require any kind of proper answer anyway, as he went about his business regardless. Seeing what he was hoping to dish up made her heart sink slightly when she realized it might not be done any time soon, but she could hardly complain, despite the urgency she felt inside. But at his offer at the snacks in the fridge she perked up again. As long as she had something to tide her over. “Thank you.” She acknowledged quietly, heading towards the fridge. She was wary of Daphne, ironically so as the creature was just as wary as her, and near-edged her way round the hound. Cyrus, meanwhile, played as oblivious mediator, much like a child who can only see a potential new play-friend; meanwhile, heedless of the potential danger in the stranger that his perceptive sister was all too wary of. In the fridge she found what seemed to be a pre-made lunch, a sandwich of some kind in a clear plastic bag. Despite the urge to grab all the fridge contents in a gluttonous rage and sit on the floor eating,- she kept her cool, reminding herself that there was to be a warm dinner coming soon, if she could only be patient enough. She found she could hardly keep her anticipation contained, the hopefulness that she was experiencing was strange to her, and she was afraid to get too excited-all too ready for things to go wrong.
She did as he had suggested, leaving the kitchen, and gingerly, making her way up the stairs. It felt strange to be wandering around this stranger’s house, and introduced to her some worrying thoughts that made her feel claustrophobic. For instance, she wasn’t sure where all the exits were. How could she make a quick escape if she so needed? But she didn’t want to go poking around either...
At the top of the stairs, she forced herself to relax, growing impatient with herself and her wariness. All the same, she did not wish to make use of the shower, not at all,- she could not imagine being in a more vulnerable position! Instead, she did indeed enter the bathroom, but only to splash water on her face, trying to wash away the grime that covered her features, in an attempt to make herself more presentable. On the streets, looks were hardly a priority, but she was aware of how she probably looked to this stranger. As she did so, she pushed up her sleeves so as not to get them wet, revealing a tattoo of bruises. Most were yellowing now, in the last stages of healing, but some of the larger bruises were taking substantially longer to heal, and had developed into a deep, blossoming purple.
She did not spend too much time cleaning her arms. Not only did even the slight pressure of the action hurt, but they were so unsightly she could hardly look at them herself. She jumped as something brushed against her leg, breaking her from her contemplation, and it was then she realized that Cyrus had followed her. She gave him a quick stroke on the head, then as she left, he walked ahead of her, disappearing into one of the rooms. Curious, she followed, pushing the door open gently.
Inside, the best way to describe the room would be ‘homely’. The warmth hit her first, and she stepped inside warily. Cyrus settled on a pile of quilts in the corner, obviously quite comfortable with her trespassing presence. For a moment she wondered if she should be in here, then she thought, “To hell with it,” and fell to her knees before one of the heaters. A jolt ran through her, as if her body was shocked with the sudden rise in temperature, and she raised her hands towards the heat, getting her body as close as she possibly could without burning herself. She stayed there for a few minutes, letting the warmth seep back into her limbs. Only then did she pick the sandwich back up, still staying close to the heater, and unwrap it. She did not need any further encouraging. With her jaw working ravenously, she soon polished it off. Her stomach was overjoyed, temporarily stilling in its complaints. But there was more to come... She sat as patiently as she could, concentrating now again on simply warming herself.
|
|
|
Post by Red Irish Dragon on Nov 10, 2013 4:32:13 GMT
Jesse only paused to watch the girl vanish upstairs, hearing Cyrus following her with his nails clicking on the wooden steps. She’d opened the fridge, but he wasn’t sure what food she might even be interested in. Most of it was dog food of some sort anyway… The true “masters” of the house was made abundantly clear in there. The girl’s thank you was so soft he had almost missed it, but when he noticed it was too late to respond. So he focused on his task, glad when the heat of the oven and the stovetop were finally enough to radiate into the room. Damn it was cold out…
Daphne stayed with her human the whole time, not only hoping for spilled food, not only for company, but a protective need. Cyrus was happy to find a new playmate – so he thought – but Daphne had had a harder life before being adopted, even though her half brother didn’t. At one point she whined, and was rewarded with a finger-swipe worth of peanut butter from the fridge, licking the hand eagerly as Jesse laughed, scratching behind her ear as she finished. Everything was in the oven or boiling now, the sound of the water inspiring. Jesse stood to pull out two mugs from the cupboard, taking an electric kettle out of one cabinet to fill and turn on, waiting for the steam to start spiraling out of the spout. While he waited, Jesse also pulled out a bag of dog treats, laughing again at seeing the immediate prick in the Great Dane’s ears at the sound of the bag, even before she saw it. “Maybe we can make friends through these, huh?” he asked, the dog immediately whining at him in a deep tone, still not satisfied with Jesse’s apparent naïve response to her presence.
“Eh, come on, I’ve been in her shoes before,” Jesse tried to counter, sighing a little at the repeated noise. “I know… I know. But I have to try, right? Karma and all that… give her a chance, please?” Daphne studied Jesse at his plea almost suspiciously, but snorted, yawning a moment later. Jesse smiled; that was her giving “permission.” Some might say his reactions to his dogs was overly anthropomorphizing, he had been accused of it before, but it didn’t stop the feeling that they were taking care of him just as much as he was caring for them.
With the addition of tea bags to the cups of hot water, Jesse went to the stairs with Daphne following diligently, although the treats under one arm seemed to help increase her speed. Once on the third floor, he looked around, and ended up following Daphne as she could smell where the two were. “Hello?” he called out before entering, not sure if the shower would have been turned on or not. “I have some tea, should help warm up your insides…” Now, if Cyrus didn’t attack him for the treats, the tea wouldn’t end up all over the floor…
|
|
|
Post by Kelathi on Dec 7, 2013 12:39:09 GMT
Now warmed through, she had removed her hat and gloves, but kept the coat, perhaps in shedding it she would feel too vulnerable. At his voice she scrambled up, as did Cyrus, excited by her sudden movement. Luckily, she got to the door first, opening it wide and allowing the man to enter, wide enough too, by happy accident, to warn him of Cyrus' approaching form and therefore allowing him to act accordingly.
She felt very... peculiar being in this stranger's house. It seemed welcomely enough up here, and the man seemed to be nice. But she felt as if she had strayed into some kind of vivid dream... One moment she had been starving on the frozen street, with blank-faced strangers passing by her shivering, withering form with barely a glance, and the next she was warmed through and accepting tea! She could hardly believe it, and thus she was all too ready for things to go wrong. She returned back to where her spot had been by the radiator, but now seemed unsure as to what to do. To sit? She seemed to be waiting for the stranger to make his move before she decided on hers.
As well as the oddity of her host's kindness, the social contact was something she was not accustomed to having to deal with, and she found herself becoming shy as well as guarded, suddenly very self-conscious and unsure as to how to speak to, or approach this stranger.
|
|
|
Post by Red Irish Dragon on Dec 18, 2013 3:59:18 GMT
While Cyrus had been happy of course to see Jesse and Daphne coming into the room, it was merely by accident that the black dog was in the way of the two-tone puppy as he realized there was a bag of treats involved, ending up with a few-second wrestling match between them. Daphne won easily as she only walked away, Cyrus having to scramble to get off his back.
Jesse was clearly practiced enough in dodging them to do so without spilling the tea water, although his expression showed it still unnerved him that he had to do such a side step and dart forward to get out of the way. “A-ah... dumb mutts,” he half scowled at them, looking back over to the girl. Noticing how close she was standing to the heater, he decided to walk over to her and offered her most of the handle of a cup, holding onto part of it only to keep from burning himself.
“Here,” he added after the tea had been transferred, moving over to the same comforters the dogs had returned to, grabbing one pillow in his free hand and another with his foot, maneuvering them into place next to the heater. “Little dirty but better than the floor,” he noted, noticing a rather obvious paw print on one of the two pillows too late now that the seat was offered, sitting down himself and finally pulling the treat bag from under his arm. Fortunately he was able to set down his tea before he was set upon by both dogs, ears pricked and tails wagging, recognizing the bag’s sounds, appearance and of course smell. Opening the bag, he gave each dog one of the biscuits, and as they happily munched he offered the opened end of the bag to the girl. “Do you want to give them one?”
|
|
|
Post by Kelathi on Jan 2, 2014 22:16:44 GMT
She took the offered cushion without comment, and eagerly received the tea, raising it to her lips as she sat. Her first sip revealed that she may have been too hasty, as the shock of the heat made her jerk back quickly before she burnt herself further. She threw a glance towards the stranger, embarrassed, but he seemed to be preoccupied with the hounds, who were incredibly interested in the bag he held in his hand. As the dogs crunched away happily at their treats, she set her mug on the floor, having decided to wait for it to cool down before she tried again. It was then that the stranger spoke to her.
At his words, she set her attention back to the dogs. Their tails were wagging happily, and they were much calmer when lying down, as they were now. But that did little to ease her. It wasn't the male that worried her- he had had the chance to attack her but had been more interested in playing, showing his gentle nature. The female though... She reminded the girl too much of the dogs she had come into contact with previously.
But perhaps this would be a chance for her to amend for their first meeting? After all, she understood why the creature had reacted in the way it had. It was herself that had been the intruder, herself in the wrong,- the dog had simply been looking out to protect her master. After a moment's hesitation, she nodded, "Alright," reaching out for the bag. The male, having gobbled his treat down quickly, had eyed the exchange with interest, but much to her surprise, sat politely instead of leaping up towards her. This was fortunate, and she offered the biscuit to him with little fear. He took it happily, of course. Now the female. She didn't particularly want to put her fingers to close to the dog's mouth, but she may as well go through with it now. Her hesitation was clear even as she tried to appear unthreatening, staying seated and moving slowly as she reached forward, offering the biscuit.
|
|