forum Oh hey, guess what? Another one!

Started August 19, 2022 by Deleted user

tune

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Jackie grins.

"Hitting nerves, aren't I? Let's see. . . probably not many women have looked at you through a particularly. . . comely lens." she adds.

De’Tearion snorted disdainfully.

“Nerves, aye. You are otherwise wrong. I could have had a large harem all to myself. Yet, the women I knew were much like you. Unbearable. They only desired my bed, my bloodline, not me,”De’Tearion replied.

"Exactly. They viewed you not as an individual, but as a piece of meat to be devoured. Then again, you are all looks, no intelligence." Jackie yawns, picking at her nails.

"And anyways, if that's the case, why are you always in such a particularly foul mood?"

De’Tearion snorted again.

“My attitude be why they desired me not. I had been rather hateful in my youth. And, underestimate my intelligence not. I have done far more than you will likely ever know,”he stated.

He wasn’t going deny the part about his looks though. He had always been a prized male, among his species, and among humans.

De’Tearion sighed at her question, turning away. He didn’t want to talk about why his mood was always foul. Primarily, because it wasn’t. He was melancholic, not angry, despite how both of those emotions coincided within him. His rage was his sorrow, and vice versa. But, the reasons behind that… was something he wanted to avoid.

"Oh, wait, yeah! You're always in such a bad mood that it's no surprise." Jackie says, sitting up fully.

She stands up after a bit and walks over to a fire pit.

"Would you like something to eat?" she asks. She didn't really care, but at the very least she'd give him a reason to stay since he showed no signs of wanting to leave.

De’Tearion snorted, not even bothering to verbally respond. He hated her constant rude attitude. Maybe later, he could eat her tongue first.

He watched her, scanning the fire pit for weapons. A faint sigh escaped him when he heard her question.

“I shall politely decline,”he answered.

De’Tearion had never eaten offered food, particularly if it was cooked. But… if Jackie was offering herself as a willing meal, then De’Tearion would quickly change his mind on that offer.

Jackie shrugs.

"Suit yourself. I was trying to be a bit nice, but no." she says, stepping outside for a moment and coming back in holding a leather bag.

She pulls it open, revealing venison and vegetables, along with bottles and jars of spices and herbs. She closes the bag again, sets it aside, grabs a pot, sets it over top of the pit, and starts a fire, pouring a waterskin of water into the pot.

De’Tearion rolled his eyes at her words, then watched her leave. He looked around the room just before he slid down the wall, sitting down on the floor with his long legs stretched out before him.

When Jackie came back in, he watched her again. He didn’t react to what she showed him. The only thing he’d be able to eat anyway was the venison, but he preferred it fresh from the deer.

As she prepared to cook, De’Tearion closed his eyes, seeming as if he was falling asleep. However, he was very conscious, and listening closely to Jackie.

Jackie is basically focused on the stew, her mind calm and blank, her face serene. She moves with surety and grace as she eyes ammounts and proportions, basically ignoring everything outside of 4 feet of the bag and pot.

She wipes sweat from her brow as she stands over the pot, and it's at this time that anybody could realize that she was covered in a thin, skin-color layer of fur.

After a moment of beautiful quiet, De’Tearion’s mind became plagued with memories. So, he opened his eyes to avoid them, his gaze settling on Jackie. She was definitely better to focus on than his past, even though he despised her as much as he was fascinated by her.

As he watched, his fascination took over. She seemed to truly enjoy cooking. De’Tearion had never known or understood the appeal of it, but he understood the passion and precision behind it.

He then noticed the fur on her body and his eyes widened just barely. How had he missed that she was completely furred? He had touched her, fought her, even held her down! And he’d missed that! How?

Unconsciously, De’Tearion leaned forward, one of his knees rising as he studied Jackie more closely. His foot, all two feet of flexibility, was flat on the floor, or at least, as flat as it could get. Two long tibial spurs extended from the large armor plate on his heel, and they propped up his foot slightly. But, the large pair of claws serving as his toes balanced his foot quite well.

Jackie doesn't even notice at first that De'Tearion had gotten closer, as focused as she was on cooking.

But when she finnaly does realize, she flinches and moves back quickly, into a corner, her eyes wide.

Slowly, she comes back to her senses and narrows her eyes at De'Tearion. She doesn't even say anything, just stands there, watching him intently, making sure he doesn't move any closer.

De’Tearion chuckled at her reaction, a cruel delight flashing in his eyes. He then looked down at the floor, nostalgia replacing sadism, then sorrow replacing nostalgia. With a sigh, De’Tearion turned back to Jackie. He didn’t move though, not even to hide the eerie sight of his long foot.

“You are quite passionate about cooking, aye? ‘Tis obvious. I am glad to see that you actually enjoy other things besides provoking everyone around you. Reminds me of an old ally,”he remarked.

Jackie straightens slowly, her hands shaking from some strong emotion.

"Yes, I enjoy cooking," she says bluntly but softly, indicating she was not in the mood to talk.

He'd triggered bad memories.

De’Tearion barely registered Jackie’s words when he saw her shaking hands. Instantly, his own bad memories resurfaced. His own shaking hands, and then the shaking hands of his dearest sister, Agatha.

How many times had he found Agatha scared and crying in the trees, hiding from her attackers? How many times had he comforted her for this reason or that? He had stopped counting after the first few years, and he’d watched over her for over a millennium.

“I… I apologize,”he breathed, a slight tremor in his voice.

He turned away, curling up. For the massive individual that he was, he could seem quite small when he wanted to be. And, he did now.

Jackie takes note of De'Tearion's reaction to her shaking and hesitantly walks over.

She sits down next to the large man, cross-legged, pulling him close.

"Not your fault."

De’Tearion heard Jackie’s approach, but was otherwise unaware of what she was doing. When she pulled him to her, he flinched, tensing up.

Her words seemed to soothe him slightly, but everything still bothered him. Without even really thinking about it, he picked up Jackie, set her in his lap, and coiled his arms around her, hugging her close. Every now and then, a slight shiver passed through his body, revealing just how shaken he was.

Jackie notes how De'Tearion tenses, and when he picks her up and puts her in his lap, she realizes that this is the first time in years–no, decades–that she'd thought of anyone but herself. The thought was stunning.

What the hell am I doing? I hate him, he hates me! she thinks, but there's a little voice in the back of her head telling her to get over herself, to just let De'Tearion do this.

The second voice wins.

De’Tearion cradled Jackie in his arms, holding her against his chest. It seemed like he had done this many times before. And, that’s because he had, countless times. It was how he had always held Agatha.

He nuzzled into Jackie’s hair, closing his eyes as he fought back tears. His second pair of arms appeared, gently wrapping around Jackie as well.

Jackie moves in such a way that her face is in De'Tearion's shoulder, exactly like a cat would cuddle you.

She's kinda. . . relieved, in a way. She hadn't been held like this in a while, so she felt confused, but somehow happy.

De’Tearion shifted to accommodate her movements, then settled back into cradling Jackie. Silent tears oozed from his eyes, but he was grateful that Jackie seemed to accept his actions.

As the minutes passed, De’Tearion focused on Jackie’s heartbeat to escape his memories. It soothed him, listening to it. The musical sound of heartbeats always comforted him.

Eventually, Jackie looks up.

"I never expected you to have any desire to do this, for me at least. Why do you," she asks softly, looking up at him De'Tearion.

De’Tearion lifted his head and glanced down at Jackie, not entirely aware of the black tear streaks on his face. He contemplated his answer for a moment, honestly not sure why he was holding her.

“‘Tis difficult to explain. And… possibly related to a very painful subject,”he finally said.

Jackies sighs and pulls down one of her sleeves, cleaning De'Tearion's face.

"Honestly, you should take better care of your body. . ." she huffs softly.

"Difficult and painful are my specialties, remember?" she says, trying to joke a bit to lighten the mood.

De’Tearion flinched, startled, when Jackie started wiping off his face. He then chuckled bitterly.

“I know.”

He didn’t want to admit that Jackie was more accurate than she knew. After all, he was technically half-dead from starvation, for the third time in under thirty years. It was just difficult to tell by his naturally lean physique, and the exoskeletal shell covering his entire torso. But, once Jackie figured out how erratic his appetite was, it wouldn’t be too difficult to figure out his situation.

He gave another bitter chuckle, then turned away. After staring into oblivion for a minute, he finally replied.

“You know not my pain. Nor my past. ‘Tis a long tale of…”he trailed off with a sigh, unable to come up with a vague enough word to finish his sentence.

Jackie sighs.

"Stop assuming. It just makes you equally an asshole," she replies.

"And I think the word would be 'tragedy.'"