Fable - Ask Vice

[Jane]

The Port of Minaris.

That's where Jane and Nate ended up after pursuing their fanciful detour to a strange new city called Thagretis (but really, weren't all Mainlander cities strange?). It was an indulgent trip. Fun. Probably too fun. Hence why they almost died and had to escape. And Astra had to be proud of Jane. Just proud. She had her...moments, Jane did...but! But she didn't have to kill anyone in Thagretis. She had a wonderful time watching other people kill people, but clean hands were clean hands (even if she wanted to get them delightfully dirty).

Escape they did. On the "Neha" ship. Not that they stayed on it for the whole voyage. And they came eventually by sea to the Isles of Sheketh, and in particular the Port of Minaris. Jane didn't know either of those names--Sheketh, Minaris--but she did know that the seaside city had a bit of Cerak flavor to it. Maybe it was the sight of Drakefall Fortress dominating the skyline of Minaris like Cerak At'Thul lording over the town of Cerak. Maybe she just had a thing for ports. Landlocked cities and towns always felt so...stifling.

Finally though, they'd a chance to relax. The simmering tension of being on the run could die down now that they had gone from Thagretis and were off the seas. Nobody in Minaris gave a shit about who they were, and that would do just fine.

Unbeknownst to Jane, there was a convenient Portal Stone not so far away that could take them to lands somewhat more familiar. But a day of rest (and downing a few frothing ales, Astra forgive her) ought to do for now.

* * * * *​

The Minaris Respite was the name of the inn Jane stumbled across. A few coins from Jane's increasingly light coin pouch and they had a room.

Which was good. A little privacy. Nate had taken a hell of an injury to his leg in the escape from Thagretis. Jane might've been able to help, invoke Metisa's Blessing each day until it was mended, but...Nate had a thing against that. Blessings. Didn't offend Jane any: that was his decision, and she respected that.

Jane had her armor off, her sword and shield and whip laid down at the foot of her bed in the room (awfully nice room, too, compared to the shit Jane usually tolerated without a second thought). She took off her boots as well, letting her sore feet breathe. In her arming dress and pants she collapsed onto her bed, falling back onto it with her arms spread wide and an euphoric smile spread across her face.

"Ahhhhh..." Damn, did it feel good to slow down for a minute. And an actual night's rest would be fantastic...hangover may or may not apply as well.

She lay there. Taking in big breaths, letting out sighs of comfort as she sank into the soft sheets and the pillow cradled her head.

Then she glanced over. Said to Nate, "How's your leg feeling?"

Nathanael McCallister

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

Nate's leg had always been bugging ever since they somehow managed to get away from the crazy people of Thagretis. Tytus Amladeris really did no a number on his leg and it was still seeping some blood and other liquids from it. All over his leg were holes and gashes where the stone spikes had impaled it. One on his side and arm as well but that was not as serious as his leg.

And oh Dark Ones help him it hurt like fucking hell. Even keeping it still caused it to throb. He felt like a weak person and a burden to Jane and just the thought irritated him. He had managed to borrow a horse and a cart for the journey to the Inn. He did not want Jane to carry him in anyway shape or form. He knew he was heavier than her and didn't want her to waste any more energy or coin for that matter.

When they finally got to the room the hunter lays a large amount of cloth and linen from his bedroll on the bed. Using his good leg to balance as he simply did so before finally sitting down on the hardwood floor.

"How's your leg feeling?"

Nate doesn't answer at first as he takes off his armor and gauntlets for the first time in days. It was dirty and worn some but nothing like a good polish and clean up would make it like new.

The lycan goes to take off his good leg's boot and then he starts to unwrap the binding on his injured leg. "It hurts like fucking hell." He tells his friend as he takes deep breaths to help himself deal with the burning as he took off the liquid and blood-soaked wrapping. Only to reveal an infected flurry of wounds and red angry skin. White puss was in a lot of the wounds, others were oozing liquids.

"Fucking shit balls of a fucking bitch." Nate grumbles with some sweat beaded onto his forehead as he leaned he head onto the wall. "Fucking dragon crazy asses." He looks at Jane, "I do not want to lose my fucking leg Jane." He tells her with a bit of worry and fear in his voice. Something Jane probably never heard before.

He didn't want to end up on the sidelines of hunts, nor be called a cripple among his family and the other hunters. Nate thrived on the hunt, and to take such a thing away was cruel to the lycan hunter. He wouldn't know what else to do if it came to that.

Jane

 

[Jane]

Jane watched as Nate took off the wrappings. Blood she adored, gore she was used to, but putrid things still made her balk--as they would for just about anyone else. She knew he had been hurting (oh why couldn't it have been me? to have done it to him?) and that this at the very least hadn't gotten any better on its own during their flight from Thagretis. She hated to see it. Pain and injury not caused by her, and the wound furthermore allowed to become spoiled--none of that was fun. That delicious blood made like a rotten fruit.

Nate had a tinge of worry in his voice that she subtly picked up on. And Jane, though the content half-smile didn't portray it, felt that worry herself. A strange feeling, near incomprehensible, something that caused her more stress than actually facing the prospect of death in Thagretis and in battles prior. She only ever gave a damn about herself. This was...she didn't quite know.

Regardless, Jane sat up in the bed. Swung her legs over the edge and stood up and walked over to Nate sitting on the floor and sat on her heels beside him. She was still smiling in her cool and cavalier way but it felt...forced. Yeah. That was the word. Forced.

"I don't want you to lose it either. So here's what we're looking at," she said. "We can go see about an apothecary here. Look for a magic healer maybe. See if those might work. Or."

She placed her left hand on his shoulder. And her smile no longer felt forced.

"You can let me."

The Blessing of Metisa could help. It might not clear up the entire wound in one go, but she'd have another Blessing tomorrow, and another after that--if she kept up with her penance. Her flagellation. The tally was still pretty large because of Thagretis and she hadn't had a moment to attend to it. But whatever it took. However many times she'd have to flog herself to gain favor to power her Blessing. Whatever it took to save Nate's leg. Only Jane was allowed to hurt him, and she'd never let a wound become like that. Lickable wounds or nothing.

"But I know how you feel about Blessings. It's up to you, Nate."

Nathanael McCallister

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

Nate looks at Jane, he was about to say something then decides against it, well saying most of it. The hunter looks at his leg with a deep sigh as he contemplated for a minute.

"Fine, you can do your weird blessing stuff. Since it is holy we'll just have to grin and bear it no matter what happens." He warns the paladin with his eyes looking around. He'd be dead by now if it wasn't for the blood he had been infected with at least. A bright side of the ritual he supposed. He really wanted to tell her but he didn't know how nor did he want to worry about losing his closest friend and partner in crime.

He tilts his head wondering how the hell this would work so he asks, "So you can get to more of it? How does this thing work?"

The hunter seems genuinely curious and full of wonder as he had a bit of a fever and looked pretty hot but was still shivering. "Would probably be better than the apothecary bloodletting or something along those lines." He did look a bit pale as well but that was due to the infection he knew it.

"Maybe if it gets a bit better we can go see the apothecary and they can do whatever to it, but this is the worse case right now." He mutters getting more comfortable and even taking off his shirt to hold in his hands in the case it did hurt like a bitch. Why was he talking so much? He didn't know why all he knew was he wanted a good night's sleep and maybe head out to someplace to spend on time doing what he loved most tomorrow.

He'd go to lay down on the hardwood floor and bends his good leg to a more comfortable position, painfully adjusting so his injured leg was straight and open. "Grandfather have mercy on me." He'd pop his shirt into his mouth and then look at the ceiling waiting for Jane to start.

Jane

 

[Jane]

She didn't expect him to say yes. But he did. And he let on that it was going to hurt him (mmmmmmmm...!) in some fashion. Jane didn't know how, but didn't ask. Still some mild curiosity about it though: was it because of a different belief? That didn't seem to be a problem before. Magic could be fickle, that she knew; a few Sisters of the Citadel found that out firsthand. Never happened to Jane, for all the dark magic she used to--

The memory of the Redeemer's hand, smothering her face, that white light, smothering her thoughts then and smothering her thoughts now.

Jane blinked.

She didn't expect him to say yes. But he did.

"Alright, Nate."

He had a question about them, her Blessings. Fair. She never truly went into detail about them. It was hard to hide the constant sessions of self-flagellation, but now he'd get the full context of them.

Jane said, "My Blessings, all the rest of what I can do: I have to whip myself for them. Pay penance. That's the deal." She gave a flick of her eyes toward the whip sitting among her weapons and armor at the foot of her bed. "And I haven't had a shortage of reasons to flog myself over in a long time."

The apothecary. They might have to go there anyway to help with that fever; the Blessing probably wouldn't mend the wound, alleviate the infection, and rid him of his fever all in one. Astra did not see fit to bestow Jane with anything more than a moderate healing Blessing she could only use once a day.

After Nate took off his shirt, Jane pressed her hand to his forehead and felt it and, yeah, the fever wasn't great. The cold weather had only made it worse, likely. Jane's half-smile, that cool demeanor, faded a bit. But it came back as Nate lay down. She was going to be able to do something about it--help her hunting partner out. Her friend. Someone she gave a damn about.

And it felt...good.

That, and Nate stuffing the shirt into his mouth and biting down in preparation for what was to come was awfully titillating. Shivers-down-her-neck exciting. It was quite odd, to genuinely want someone to get better and to be aroused by potentially hurting them at the same time. And it wasn't like she was healing him so he wouldn't die just so she could torture him some more, like the less lucky sacrifices to Dark One Alarak. No, she wanted Nate to be alright...even if a quivering chord of pleasure was ready to be strummed the moment he let out a muffled wince or gasp or yell into the wad of his shirt. Odd. But Jane rather liked the strangeness.

She placed both of her hands carefully onto Nate's leg. Felt the slickness of the blood and the puss on her palms. Drew in a husky breath through her nose and glanced to him and said, "Ready? One...two..."

And she went ahead and did it.

"May the Blessing of Metisa be upon you!"

Nathanael McCallister

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

Nate looks over towards her whip, "I was always wondering how I could always smell blood on you sometimes even after we didn't get injured hunting." He mumbles through the cloth as he took a deep breath when Jane started to count down.

He was expecting her to say three though and what came after wasn't fun for him.

As soon as Jane cast her blessing on his leg and the magic doodah was done an instant burning pain followed.

The hunter lets out a wince at first but then he couldn't help but scream into the cloth bitting into it as he felt some of the holy magic coursing through his veins and some dark veins appeared on his leg and running up some of his artery vein of his neck.

Nate would jerk some as the pain set in deeper trying to get away from the source of the pain by natural instinct. His vision throbbing in and out of white.

Scratching the floor with his nails he just rides it out as some of the infection goes away along with a few of the smaller more insignificant wounds healed up some more. He'd lean to his side and throw up some black stuff into his shirt as the magic did its job until it was a few seconds later and the blessing ended with his once somewhat clean shirt now filthy with the black vomit.

Nate looks at his shirt then looks at Jane before he grumbles looking like even more shit. "Fuck me sideways." He says quietly laying his hand back down with a thud taking deep breaths with more sweat dripping down his face and seemingly his whole body now. His leg still hurt and burned from both the injury and magic, but now he felt like he had someone punch his stomach and the rest of his body.

His leg did look a bit better though, not as angry looking but still rather angry. "Did its job at least." He chuckles some.

"Do we have to do that every day?" He asks Jane being careful to try to not set her off. After all, he did just throw up some black stuff all over his shirt.

Jane

 

[Jane]

The light from the Blessing issued forth from Jane's palms once she had invoked it. And it wasn't until the moment was over, until she had finished being a vessel for divine power, that the (delicious) details of the aftermath truly reached her. The light faded, the reverential expression on Jane's face faded with it, and she opened her eyes.

She lifted her bloodied hands from his leg. Looked over to him. Saw the scratch marks on the floor and the black stain of the vomit on his shirt and the sweat all over his face. And immediately her cheeks flooded hot red, eyes glossy and full of wondrous splendor at what she beheld, an open-mouth smile letting out a tiny and strained-with-restraint exhalation.

Restraint that cracked soon enough.

Jane scooted closer, up from his leg and toward his torso. Leaned (perhaps uncomfortably) close over him and reached out her hands and just couldn't keep them off of his face, out of his hair, running them over and through both, absentmindedly slathering him with his own blood as she did so.

Her voice trembled with excitement and she spoke fast, saying, "See? See that wasn't so bad, was it? It did the job. Did it well enough. It helped, right? You're still burning with a fever and that leg needs more tending and I'd be happy to do it. We can do this every day if you'd like. Even after your leg is fully healed. We don't need to stop do we? Oh no no no, I've got five different Blessings a day. We could do it as many times as you like. Just say the word, Nate. Have I told you how much I like seeing you sweat? Just say the word, Nate. I could Bless you again right now. Astra doesn't need to know. It could be our little secret. Just say the word, Nate."

Jane kept on grinning and rummaging her hands through his hair and over his cheeks and generally making an affectionate mess of him.

Nathanael McCallister

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

The hunter was exhausted from the ordeal and didn’t fight it (but sat up some) when Jane leaned in and started to rub his blood and infection all over his face and into his hair. The smell didn’t bug him either because he was used to it. But for some reason he found it comforting so he leaned into the contact.

He knew she was a special case based off of how much she enjoyed seeing blood and pain. He would want to make her happy a lot if he could, but he had no idea how many blessing he could personally take in one day. Not to mention the side affects from it. For all he knew it could be dangerous for not only him but Jane as well.

Nate did feel somewhat comforted though that someone like Jane was his friend in the case the worse does happen.

But would his gods agree? Would his father and mother and brothers and sisters agree? It has been years since he had last seen them so he doubted it.

He’d reach up and take her arm with his shaken hand, leaning on his other arm for support. “As long as you promise me, that we can stop if it comes to it.” Nate says with a curious glint in his heavy eyes. “We can do it right now if you promise me that.”

What was he saying? Probably the fever speaking but he felt like it wasn’t. Still there was a hunger that was now more prevelent since it had been weeks since he had last been able to have essence. Was that why he was throwing up black goo? Had it started to eat him due to such a long period between feeds? That was a nagging question in the back of his head.

Jane

 

[Jane]

Jane wasn't one to turn up her nose to a good offer. She'd take what she could get.

She nodded vigorously, hands on his temples, and said, "I can stop. We can stop. I promise. Hold me to that. I'll have another Blessing of Metisa tomorrow for your leg."

Oh, it was going to be great. Fantastic. It wasn't like Nate hadn't gotten hurt before but it hadn't been Jane who was the one that had caused him pain. She hadn't even accidentally sliced his jugular yet. But this was something. She didn't know why Nate recoiled in pain from her Blessings. Maybe she'd ask him. Even if she didn't know though, she could still drink in that succulent agony he felt and that she caused with her own hands. Floggings were getting added to the tally tonight--that she knew--but...it was so going to be worth it.

She simmered down some. Seemed to notice Nate's face now. Laughed a little and said, "I got your blood all over you."

She let her hands slide down from his temples and down his cheeks and off of his face, removing some but hardly all of the mess. She tried not to touch anything else just yet.

"Did you want me to clean that up for you? Before we try another Blessing?"

Nathanael McCallister

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

With a chuckle Nate nodding his head, “Its blood but it probably isn't the best to leave it since we do need to go to sleep eventually.” He says as a looking at Jane’s blood hands. In truth it was blood, it could be washed off easily and he didn’t want to fuck up their stuff here. “After this can you hand me my sleeping bag? I do not want to ruin their bed nor their blankets.” He’d ask her as she wiped his blood from his face.

He lays back down on the floor closing his eyes. Atleast Jane agreed to the conditions. Why did it hurt though? His dad warned him about it but even his own father had no idea why holy magic hurt them particularly. Surely it wouldn’t hurt werewolves right? Well not the way it hurt him.

The hunter opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling, “What are your other blessing Jane and what do they do exactly?” He asks her looking at his blackened shit and tossing it away, if he was going to vomit he would rather not ruin any more shirts. Floors could be cleaned.

He’d give her a thumbs up when he was ready so she can do her thing.

Jane

 

[Jane]

Two birds with one stone, as the saying went. Jane stood up and procured Nate's bedroll and sat back down beside him. Unrolled it and used a corner of it to wipe her hands, furthermore to dab at Nate's face and clean up the mess. She kept at it, taking her time and following his descent back down to lay on the floor and dabbing at the blood still, cleaning his face with perhaps a surprisingly delicate and meticulous touch.

Ah, wasn't it just a shame though that his blood had to be fouled by the pus? She wouldn't have needed to use his own bedroll in that case.

Finished, she tossed the corner of his bedroll from her grasp. Smiled. Said, "We can get it washed later."

A question. About her Blessings. How nice.

"Got one for each of the gods and goddesses of Celestialism, save Astra. Aionus: big magic. Drakon: big speed and strength. Tychan: a divine shield. Metisa: healing. And Nykios: makes your weapon powerful and shiny," Jane said in her typically simple and blunt way. "Let's try a Blessing of Drakon. See what that does."

She eyed Nate's right hand. Took it in hers and pressed their clasped hands against her chest. Said, "Squeeze if it hurts. Okay?"

(oh she couldn't wait. she wanted him to squeeze the hell out of her hand.)

Jane settled her left hand then down on Nate's chest. Fingers spread. Anticipatory grin of glee escaping the bounds of her effort to constrain it.

She invoked the words and the power, "May the Blessing of Drakon be upon you!"

Light radiated from her palms, and the holy energy of the Blessing of Drakon, the surge of strength and speed, flooded into Nate's body as had the healing energy from the Blessing of Metisa moments ago.

Nathanael McCallister

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

Nate didn't mind the corner of his bed being used, it needed a good washing anyways after all the travel they did. Though the blessings she had did make him a bit interested, but it all seemed too complicated to him. Why worry about a god's view of you to get some magic when you could achieve it all yourself?

Though it probably did save time in the long run he supposed.

Nate takes her hand and blinks a few times, "If I break your hand do not blame me then." He tells her as she got her hand in position. But over his chest? Oh this was not going to be fun.

Then agongy struck again, this time in one constant pain that once again spread throughout his body. He may or may not have broken Jane's hand as he squeezed it and maybe dug his nails into her hand. However he did not notice as he jerks to a sitting up position wth gritted teeth.

His nails scratching deep gashes into his chest as he tried to contain the pain and the fury that came from it. And he throws up once more onto the floor with some blood mixed into it.

After a few more moments as the blessing faded he stares at his own throw up panting as though a form of relief came over him. Then he covers his mouth with one hand and then vomits again and a few more times leaving him shaken as he looks at Jane.

"Does that usually fucking happen!?" He asks her with a cautious glace.

Jane

 

[Jane]

The Blessing was invoked and Nate squeezed. Hard. He squeezed and his hand clamped crushingly in Jane's own, his nails digging into her skin and her nails digging into his skin and she felt the skin of her hand breaking under his nails and she likewise felt the skin of his hand breaking under her nails as they pierced in and trickles of warm blood emerged.

(ahhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAA!!)

It started in her mind and then Jane threw her head back and let out a loud and euphoric moan of deviant pleasure...that soon morphed into one of pain as well as the some of the bones in her hands fractured and broke. The strength from the Blessing of Drakon certainly aiding in that regard.

Jane had thrown her head all the way back in her pain and ecstasy, her hair dangling straight down and her eyes snapped shut. She panted as if she'd finished a hellish sprint, her chest heaving with each inhalation. Her cheeks were awash with thriving red and a tiny bead of sweat balanced precipitously near the center of her forehead. A shiver worked its way through her shoulders and her neck and her spine.

Nate, meanwhile, had sat up and vomited a number of times, the floor around him fouled to a certain extent. Gashes from his nails stood in stark exposure on his bare chest. If someone had walked in on the two of them at that very moment, they'd surely be hard pressed to guess what in the immortal hell they'd been doing.

Does that usually fucking happen!?

Nate's voice. It reminded her. It bored through the sharp pain in her own hand and reminded her.

"Oh no. No it doesn't," Jane said. Lacking much function in her right hand, she moved her left up from Nate's chest and held his wrist.

Then started licking the back of Nate's hand where she had drawn blood. Licking it as if it were a nectar newly arrived from on high. She simply couldn't help herself now--the tally be damned, add as many floggings as necessary. She was consumed by her vice: the taste for blood. The pain of its release. The satiation of her sadism, this fulfillment dancing delightfully on her tongue.

"Only with you," she said, gasping and panting and licking. "Why is that?" This question spoken in mid-lick, sounding more like Wah ih tha? than normal Common tongue.

Nathanael McCallister

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

He blinks a few times as Jane said no it did not happen usually. Nate looks at his hands and then back at Jane's and a flash of panic crosses him, "Wait, did you get any of my blood in your cuts! Oh, I didn't want to hurt you, Jane." He says quickly looking at her hand to try to make sure that none go into the cuts he caused her.

Then he stops to vomit once again and again. Gods this sucked.

But no, he realized, she would be unconscious if it did, that and there needed to be a ritual. With a sigh of relief he just watches as Jane licks his hand, she really did enjoy the blood but he had no idea to that extent.

He looks relieved more than anything before taking a deep breath, "I don't know Jane I really do not." He says, "What creatures are you blessing supposed to be negative against?" He asks her taking her injured hand with his free one and looking at it.

Then once again goes to vomit up even more black sludge, he'd groan as his stomach hurt like the dickens now and he'd collapse back onto the floor now curled up staring at Jane.

Jane

 

[Jane]

Did you get any of my blood in your cuts!

"No." The word, again, sounding off as she licked. Sounding more like nuh than no.

Oh it was so nice. The blood. The irony taste crackling like lightning bolts composed of pure ecstasy upon her tongue, in her mouth. She craved it. She loved it. And he was just letting her do it, letting her Bless him even though he caused him excruciating (succulent) agony and letting her lick the blood she'd drawn with her nails on his hand. It was like the rituals and the parties with the Sisters of the Citadel. Better. Better than that. There was something incredibly endearing about having someone who willingly did this for her. Astra was sure to disapprove, and Jane would pay her penance later, but for now...oh for now...this was heaven. This was heaven and it bristled on her tongue and in her chest and on the back of her neck and in her thighs and coursed all the way down to her toes.

She could almost forget the raw pain of her broken hand--the only thing that made this moment shy of perfection.

Nate took it though, her injured hand, once she'd lapped up what blood on his own hand that she could. He looked at it. Vomited, actually (it couldn't be that bad). That black pool on the floor was starting to become large.

He lay back down. And Jane lay down next to him on her side. She couldn't stop smiling, and she reached over with her unbroken hand and ran it across his forehead. Feeling the sweat and the heat of the fever.

"I have favored enemies. Undead, demons, dark magic things, Dark One things," she said, plucking a little at strands of his hair. "But my Blessings shouldn't hurt. They're not supposed to. I don't think they're supposed to."

She didn't bother pondering that matter any further. Not unless Nate brought it up again.

Instead, she shifted her body some and laid her broken hand on Nate's chest. Said in a low whisper, "How did you like that? How did you like breaking my hand?"

He had said he didn't want to hurt her (and that was related to his blood, Ooo, interesting). But maybe that was a little white lie. She didn't like feeling the pain herself, no, but if he liked the fact that he had caused it...oh, that would be something else.

Nathanael McCallister

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

He'd look at the wall listening to Jane, the celestial magic was supposed to be good magic. But why was it doing more harm than good right now? Was there something hidden in his family somewhere or something? "I didn't want to hurt you, but I suppose at the moment it felt good. Otherwise, there might be a hole in the wall or floor right now."

Nate sighs, he didn't need another blessing right now? How could he take it? If he could then he felt as though his whole body was going to tear itself apart then and there. Not that is already wasn't doing that. Your magic is holy magic, it isn't dark magic. It should not be hurting others who should not be affected by your favored enemies. He thinks covering his eyes with his arm with a slight shrug. He'd look towards Jane with a tired look and boops her nose chuckling.

"It's kind of hard to tell given my leg is on fire, my chest hurts like a fucking troll just punched through it and my whole body feels like it got wringed out by a hag." Nate mumbles as he starts to nod off from the fever and tiredness more then anything, "Whats the plan for tomorrow?"

Jane

 

[Jane]

Felt good in the moment. That was a sentiment Jane could get behind. One she certainly understood the depths of now, with the price of penance lingering over all of her indulgences. Though the pain of flogging dutifully followed, her pleasures--her vices--always felt good in the moment.

(And that was worth it.)

The pain in her right hand was more immediate than her next flagellation session. Yes. It didn't matter. She enjoyed herself. Nate was such a darling to let her have this.

And he booped her nose with a finger. She grinned. She should do the same to him. But make it a surprise. When he least expected. That'd be fun. Heh, a fun little game.

Nate described the pain he was in, and Jane's cheeks slowly went vivid with an excited red once again. She let out a hot sigh. A tiny beat of sweat had coalesced on her side-facing forehead and rolled down it to her hair splayed on the floor.

Jane sat up--a slow and luxurious movement, like waking from an intensely restful sleep. She scooped her unbroken hand under Nate's neck, coaxed him to sit up as well. No need for him to pass out on the floor when there were perfectly good beds; they certainly had enough nights roughing it in the escape from Thagretis.

"Tomorrow," she said, pinching her lips shut for a moment and groaning softly and glancing to her injury. "I'll need to get my hand seen to. We might have to do the same for your fever too, Nate."

Jane slid her left hand from the back of Nate's neck over, such that her arm draped down on his shoulders.

"And I could give you another Metisa's Blessing again too, for your leg." A pause. "I don't know why my Blessings hurt you the way they do..."

A devious little smile played out on her expression.

And, low and quiet like a sinner finding a kindred sinner, she leaned ever so slightly toward him and said, "...but I like it."

Nathanael McCallister

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

Nate groans as Jane had him sit up as his leg moved a bit and chuckles at her saying she liked his pain. “Yeah I figured you would. I can tell what pain does for you.” He points at his ear chuckling some looking out the window.

“You could use your blessing on your hand tomorrow. I don’t want both of us being injured walking around a new town injured. The hounds would be at our heals if two injured people were heading to get some help.” He tells Jane reaching for his bag and taking out an old towel drying himself off from his own sweat and blood that was smeared all over his face by Jane.

He gives Jane an most likely fever and delirium induced side hug before asking her to help him up or using her as a sort of support if she does no help. He’d hobble over to his bed and moves the covers to the side then virtually collapses into the bed sighing.

“Who would’ve thought that when we were in the Falwood talking about a nice bed we’d end up waiting weeks after.” He mumbles and was asleep in a few seconds.

 

[Jane]

You could use your blessing on your hand tomorrow.

"Can't. Doesn't work like that," Jane said. Then added in a manner that sounded far more inviting of the possibility than wary of it, "Hm. The hounds will just have to be at our heels then."

Shame that blood on his face was spoiled and had to be toweled. Licking blood off of faces was her favorite. You just couldn't get any closer to a person, closer to the nexus of the pain they had endured or were enduring, than the face itself. It was personal. Intimate. Almost directly in tune with their suffering. The Sisters of the Citadel always knew the mark of Jane's work: faces left ragged before the final sacrifice to the Dark One Alarak.

Nate held on to her. She held on to him. It was quite nice. Only a knife in her hand would have made it better.

"Up you go. That's it," she said, as she indeed helped him up to his feet and past the pool of his black sludgy vomit and to his bed. The bed which he promptly fell upon.

Who would’ve thought that when we were in the Falwood talking about a nice bed we’d end up waiting weeks after.

"Who would've thought," Jane agreed. Suppose one could call the whole time from when Nate woke her on the ship to the ordeal in Thagretis and the lengthy escape from there, suppose one could call all that one long quest for a decent bed.

Nate was out. Quick. He was in rough shape (oh that devilish Masked Man in Thagretis), and they still had some troubles to attend to on the morrow. He deserved his rest. Heh, she didn't need to tell anybody that the tireless Hunter took a night off. Unless she blurted it out. Which she was prone to do.

Jane took hold of the covers with her unbroken hand and laid them over Nate as he slept. Gave a soft three pats on his shoulder when she was done. And then went to her own bed. Stretched. Gingerly laid down on her back, careful not to bump her broken hand against anything. The dull, throbbing pain was going to be irritating, certainly; it might keep her up for a while before she--

Zzzzzzzzz...

Nathanael McCallister

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

(Those bed have some spell on them or something lol)

Nate for one didn’t get as restful of a sleep as he had wished, with a combo of weird dreams due to his fever and his leg throbbing any time he even moved or laid still for too long which woke him up constantly. He could probably guess he got maybe a five hours at most. As a result he would look just like he did before he inevitably crashed the previous night.

When morning came, he opened his eyes and just stared at the ceiling. Nate wasn't hungry really though he was eating small meals still to help keep up his strength. Sitting up with a grumble he rubs his eyes and face to help himself wake up some before looking over towards Jane. He couldn’t tell if she was sleeping still or not.

The hunter tosses the now juicy and sweaty covers to the side and carefully reaches over to get atleast a cleaner shirt on then the black stained one. His whole body still ached like a son of a bitch but it wasn’t as bad as last night.

“Jane, I know you are cozy as all of fucking hell but its time to get up.” He grumbles taking the sheath of his sword and poking her with it. “You can do your blessing of M-something also.” He gives a chuckle still poking her not really being able to move much without her support unless he wanted to risk a nice tumble out in the shit covered streets.

Jane

 

[Jane]

Jane hadn't flopped around in her sleep as she usually did--the waking on the ship before going to the Falwood Portal Stone only the most recent evidence of that. She had lain on her back and kept all her limbs on the bed the whole night through--her mouth was even closed and absent of dribbling drool. She appeared, as she lay in such a position and wearing her blue and ornate arming dress, not so dissimilar from mythical sleeping princesses in timeless stories that circulated around Arethil.

She groaned in a Five More Minutes kind of way when Nate spoke to her and poked her with the sheath. Eventually, her eyes slowly opened and squinted in the low light of morning through the window.

"Mmmmmmm...mmmmmmoooooowwwww, my hand. Shit. I had forgotten all about it."

She sat up, cradling her broken right hand to her bosom. It wasn't that bad, all things considered. But the dull throb of constant pain was awful--and a waste. Imagine if it was in somebody else. Wake them up into a slow crumple of mild agony. Wouldn't that just be sweet.

"I'm up. I'mmmmm..." She moved her legs as if they were made of sludge (maybe even black sludge) and let them go over the side of the bed, such that now she sat on the edge. "...up."

Jane gave Nate a sloppy, sleep-drunk smile. Laughed a little and brushed her from her face. Said, "Wow. You want a Blessing already. Oh, you spoil me, Nate; I wasn't expecting breakfast in bed."

She craned her neck around. Worked out the tiny little pops hiding in the bones, loosened to a degree the stiffness that had settled in over the course of the night.

Then she patted the bed with her good hand. Said, "Have a seat. Or lie down on the floor. Whichever you prefer. Let's see how much we can mend that leg."

Among other things.

Nathanael McCallister

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

Nate looks at Jane with a tired look and a slight smile as she got up. "Might as well get it done and over with before I do manage to eat something after what happened last night." He points at the black vomit on the floor. "Besides thought you might want a good start to your day."

He hobbles standing up onto his good leg and lies back down on the floor again not wanting to get vomit on the beds that they were probably gonna get really familiar with at this rate. He cozies up laying down on the floor, "Then we can go get something to eat along the way, maybe get a cart or something so make it easier to get to the fucking apothecary." The hunter points at his coin pouch, it always seemed so full of coins for some reason.

When Jane puts her hand on his leg he recoils some and grumbles feeling it stab in pain again and pretty much the same thing would happen when she casted her blessing on her leg. Much like when the first time she did it. It would heal a small bit but yet at the same time it didn't, at least not as well as last time.

"FUUuuuuck ME." He growls punching the floor with his fist and little splinters erupt from it as he did. "Can't we cut it off in like a week or so? Better yet can we go hunting????"

Jane

 

[Jane]

Fine point. Fine points, even. About the eating and about giving Jane a good start to her day. How could she turn it down?

Jane stood from the bed and went to sit down beside Nate as he lay on the floor once again. Said, "Something other than ship rations will be nice."

Then she placed her left hand on his leg--her right she kept held to her chest as someone might do with a small kitten or puppy. Oh Nate...Jane just couldn't believe how perfect this was! She got to do Astra's work through Metisa's healing blessing, it somehow caused Nate wild amounts of pain, and he was okay with just letting her do it. How could it get any better?

Jane grinned with an anticipatory glee and ran her tongue part way across the length of her bottom lip. Then invoked the Blessing, "May the Blessing of Metisa be upon you!"

Like before...haaaaaAAAAAAAAAAHHHaaaaa...haaaah, it was gorgeous. The way he said fuck me, the way he punched cracks and splinters into the floor, that shivering reception of shooting pain she could feel through her touch on the skin of his leg. Jane closed her eyes and nibbled on her bottom lip and her shoulders swayed up and down luxuriously. (It never got old. Oh no, it never did. Ever since she first took some agency in life and slapped a fellow slave. She'd slapped him and the nail of her little finger got caught on the skin of his cheek and scratched some skin and some blood loose. And later that night she'd the idea to lick at that blood on her little finger and it tasted like something more than what it was: it tasted like everything she didn't have, all the things she dared dream about. And she loved it.)

Jane rolled up the lids of her eyes with the elegance of a cat stretching its body. And a wide, satisfied, perhaps even drunken smile unraveled across her expression.

"You make me happy, Nate. Have I told you that?"

She had heard his questions, yes. But she was too enraptured to address them presently.

Nathanael McCallister

 

[Nathanael McCallister]

Giving Jane a bored look Nate sighs when the pain for the blessing spell faded some, “Well thats the first time you told me that actually.“ He wipes the sweat from his brow he reaches for his bag and takes out a cleaner shirt and buttons it on and then looks at his leg and contemplates changing it into a clean non-pussy pair of pants.

Nate simply shrugs to himself and raises himself up using the foot of the bed. “Now food, a cart for my fucked up ass and off to the medicine healer person fucker?” He looks at Jane. Regardless on her answer he would start to head out the door, “Either way we getting fucking food.” He grumbles and hobbles down the stairs to get some food from the pastry bar.

————

When they finally got on the way to the apothecary they actually found out it was a block or two heading west. And by the GODS it felt like miles for Nate. “You know Jane, I don’t think you told me about how you got into the Celetials and all that.” He tells Jane making hands motions as he thought of her gods.

“Since our gods are pretty different from eachother, just wondering the process you had to go through.”

Jane

 

[Jane]

Either way we getting fucking food.

Jane tittered at the tail end of Nate's string of profanity. Ah, if that was her then she'd be queuing up more floggings onto the tally. Not that she already hadn't been. It would just be more glaze on top of an already glazed pastry. Which, coincidentally, was where they were going--the pastry bar. This particular Inn of Minaris having the splendid idea to offer the same to its patrons. Why weren't more bakers also innkeeps?

"If only you could get a little tipsy too."

And Jane stood and walked beside Nate--a helpful shoulder to lean on should he require it. And they made their way down. Her armor and weapons she left in the room. Didn't need 'em. Just a trip to the apothecary was all.

* * * * *​

Nice day out.

Mostly cloudy, but what did you expect from a seaside port? Chilly, but whenever the sun got a chance to peek around those clouds it felt great. Seabirds calling and occasionally flying by overhead; a small group of them, actually, landed on a rooftop as Jane and Nate passed and vigilantly watched them go. And this close to the ocean the sound of the lapping water down by the docks was ceaseless. The locals went about their business, didn't pay them much mind, even if Nate was being wheeled along in a cart by Jane and had the unpleasant sight (made slightly less so by the Blessings) of his leg ready to be gawked at.

Nate had a question for her as they went along. More or less a question anyway.

"Now that's something," she said, grinning. "Alright Nate, brace yourself: I used to be a cultist. Yeah. After I killed my old Master The Eunuch in Cerak, I happened into the Sisters of the Citadel. We believed that Alarak--the Lord of the Black Citadel of Cerak At'Thul--was a Dark One, whose domain was Domination. We worshiped him. By dominating other people, hah ha. Pirating ships, raiding coastlines, gathering captives, taking ownership of them physically and sexually and then, you know, sacrificing them."

Jane explained all of this in a cavalier, matter-of-fact way.

"I was out at sea once and we were chased by another ship and boarded. A lot of paladins, led by a man I only know as The Redeemer. So they slew my Sisters that were on board and The Redeemer came to me and he put his hand on my face and all I could see was white and..."

She trailed off. Her eyes searching up and to the left, up and to the right, searching for a memory that she either did not have or had difficulty recalling.

She shrugged. Said, "And then I knew about Astra and the Celestials," as if such an abrupt ending was nevertheless a satisfying end to her story.

Nathanael McCallister