by skill and valour

“Doesn’t it always?” He gazed at the sky as if he was very concerned with the weather. There was no way people actually enjoyed talking about it. He wasn’t going to listen to someone talk about it for the sake of politeness; he had much better ways to spend his time. In a moment of kindness, he said, “are you sure? I can leave you alone if you want some space.” Before he’d been hospitalized, Jonah had taken for granted having his own space, having alone time. While at the hospital, he felt like he could never escape the people. If Pris wanted alone time, he didn’t want to be the one to take it from her. 

“Downright horrible,” he agreed. “Luckily there are people, such as myself, to show that humanity isn’t completely hopeless,” he teased. “You can’t win. These people don’t realize that the main is inescapable.” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Everyone thinks they have the magic cure to society’s troubles, but they’re all wrong.” 

“I’m sure,” she responded with ease, quietly, now that the awkwardness have passed, “always happy to be with sensible people.” Her remark was genuine, though she may have let her words pass through her lips still stained with indifference. “I mean while being caught in a terrible crowd exacerbates things, isolation won’t do in times like these either,” she added, and walked up closer to the other hunter. “People such as yourself certainly do bring in some light,” she let out a light chuckle in agreement, which bled into her next words. “Tragic, isn’t it.” Pris paused for a moment before she continued in a tone not so melancholic, but wistfully wishful. “Ideally someone has to be right,” she said, musing, “and once upon a peaceful summer I had hoped that it’d be me.” She felt a soft smile tug at her lips despite herself. “What is going to become of this city… I wonder.”

In a typical situation, Jonah would’ve been rude and ignored whoever else was up here, but he was friends with Pris. He couldn’t act icily towards her or all their encounters would be this awkward. He had always gotten along with the other hunter very well. She was a talented and competent hunter, and she never forced conversation when it wasn’t needed. What had changed between now and the last time he’d seen her? Jonah stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down at his feet before looking back up at Pris. “The weather is all I ever think about,” he said in his famous sarcastic tone. He let out a sigh of relief, feeling relieved she didn’t want small talk either. “I thought you were desperate to talk to me,” he admitted. “I can be intrusive if you want me to.” It was obvious how much more relaxed he was now as the tension left his shoulders. “Absolutely horrible. People are the worst. I’m tired of people pitying me and my family.” 

“Well, the sky today really does beg for contemplation,” she commented, dryly, in response to his remark with just the ghost of a smile. The hunter’s relief was apparent and Priscilla was glad that their mutual assessment of the situation allowed the senseless tension between them to cease. “Not desperate for anything other than... this,” she shrugged, glancing thoughtlessly to her side at the empty rooftop, speaking with no particular purpose in mind. “But now that you mentioned it, I wouldn’t mind listening to anything you have to say,” she added, turning her attention back to him, her frame likewise, relaxed.

“Most of them are pretty bad, aren’t they.” She replied in candid agreement, some faded derision in her tone. “Trying to find some space down there was atrocious. So many gentlemen have approached me even the comically nihilistic children cheering for the collapse of civilisation became more bearable than those who think that a drink could ease my woes.” She told him, feeling somewhat prompted by his words. “Asinine opportunists is what they are.” She remarked, her tone even, mixed with an apathetic sigh.

Elizabeth rose a brow for a moment, confused, before the woman told her the cat wasn’t hers, and with that realization Liz couldn’t help but laugh, “Well, someone better tell him that then.” She teased, watching the cat clambering all over the other woman. “Maybe he’s chosen you though. Cats can do that from time to time.”

"Right? It’s like he’s trying to trick me into being responsible for him,” she responded with a soft chuckle, and couldn’t help but find the situation even more hilarious as she saw the woman’s bright laughter. “And how I wish I could say that it wouldn’t work,” she pretended to lament, as she attempted to subdue the cat by tickling its cheeks. 

   There was almost a sense of relief to see the belonged feline in the arms of another. It bested the negative possibility of being hit by a car, or having run off for good. The nurturing for the animal almost felt impossible to shake, however, the brunette woman wasn’t partial for keeping anything close to her. “He seems to take a liking to you.”  Estella approached the other woman with a spoken kindness. Her expressions wore a glint of embarrassment for being so mindless when it came to her cats. The relationship with the fluffy feline had began when Estella had moved to New York a couple of months back. She was throwing boxes out from the grueling unpacking, and took notice to the little guy meowing near the dumpster. He seemed needy for attention. After a few days of his paws scratching at her door, him meowing in her windows, Estella caved in and took him into her own care. He wasn’t as kept as he was now. His body now in fine fettle compared to how scrawny he had been when found. “He is a little restless when it comes to adventure.” –and so was she, perhaps why she felt so connected to the animal. 

“I’d also like to interpret his pursuit of me as affection,” she responded with humour, turning to face the approaching woman. Priscilla felt relieved when she heard the other regard her with kindness, speaking with purpose, as the problem she was faced with seems to begin to resolve itself. “Certainly,” she chuckled, grinning as she looked the feline in the eye while it stared back with indecipherable eyes, letting out a lazed mroow— before turning to face its apparent owner. “Pretty dauntless, too,” she added, turning back to the woman that had just approached. “I take it that he owes his cleanliness and good manners to you?”

“Please, call me Felix here.” It was always weird hearing himself being called Doctor. Even if that was what his degree said. He wasn’t sure why he’d never gotten used to the title, feeling like a bit of an imposter when wearing it. He nodded, understanding that it took a lot of people time to decide for themselves. But that was the way with all real healing. When the patient was ready only then would it work. Healing started in the mind and soul then moved into the muscles and sinew. He’d seen it over and over again in hospitals. The difference between seeing someone with a minor injury let it consume them and others -after being told they will never walk unaided again- working and healing until they defied their diagnosis. 

“It’s no problem. I have the time.” He looked down at her hand and reaching out said, “May I?” He waited for permission before he took her hand, his own warm fingers running over hers, touching her knuckles and manipulating each one slowly and carefully, eyes down on the hand before looking back up, “It’s healed nicely. A little stiff. Let’s see if we can do something about that. Any other aches or twinges anywhere else that you’d like me to focus on?”

“Brilliant.” She smiled at his reciprocating remark, and responded candidly, lifting her hand towards him in a simple gesture. She relaxed her hand and let his fingers run through hers, and as he did so, deftly, carefully pressing at and bending her joints the way therapists do, she nodded in response. “Yes... I do seem to notice some stiffness when my mind isn’t particularly applied.” She looked down, and said thoughtfully, “it’s been a slow couple of weeks, for sure, but nothing else that’s particularly noticeable in my day to day.” It felt odd that she had to try to remember how something as natural as forming a fist used to feel, what it was like to command strength, but there she was, trying to conjure up a feeling the way an asthmatic person would try to recapture the sensation of drawing breaths immediately after an attack. “I don’t recall much aching since the first couple of days, but I haven’t really worked on regaining my strength yet. Didn’t want to rush, I suppose. I’d like to hear your suggestions.”

Yet another Anon I will eternally appreciate

hjkglhasd Anon you are too kind

“Everything was too patronising in those days from what I read,” she replied to her, “I mean lets face it, I would probably have been turned at the stake for even thinking those thoughts,” she laughed.

“Wouldn’t you hope so, what a waste of precious breath it would be if we complied,” she replied with a grin. “Are you from around here?”

“Well it’s either not the same cat or it belongs to someone because the other one is feral.” The brunette said, or maybe it just hated her because it felt that she hated it. Nonetheless, she was more than content being a safe distance away from the thing. “It’s a street cat. Doesn’t have any kind of home. You should hold onto it while we call the pound. If not, you’re free to deal with it because it’s been going through my garbage and I’m getting just about done.”

“Well, I can see a bit of that untamed feline fervour in its eyes,” she stated, matter-of-factly, making eye contact with the cat and finding it just about as hard to read as any other creature. She did not know what kind of feral instincts she subconsciously assumed all cats had, but she had a feeling that they all shared a piece of that wilderness. “Well, I can hold on to it so long as he lets me I guess. Let’s not risk any time then, call them.” She suggested, “for my safety and your sanity’s sake.”

“It’s not yours?” The woman said with a sigh as she shook her head. She’d felt bad for the damn thing and had went out looking for its owners, but had given up after months of no one showing up to possess the cat. “I felt the same way and I was thinking about bringing him to the vet but I was hoping someone would claim him, or I’d see some posters somewhere.”

“I am of no help there then,” she said with a smile, almost sounding a little apologetic, “but if you would have liked to, I have no problem with bringing him to the vet and get him checked up today,” she offered, as she had the means to and wouldn’t mind the detour. “Or maybe we could put up a notice for him, on the internet?” She added following the mention of posters, remembering something about the sort of thing called social media.

“Back in age of real knights and armour honour and justice might have been worth something… now I can’t say for sure,” she said seriously before letting out a chuckle.

“Honour and justice back then may have been too patronising for my taste,” certainly a lamentable fact, still, it had been a romantic ideal. “Hmm,” she agreed with her companion, “now... now what do we have? Cynics and sinners.” The world had gotten so much more complex in the past century, and the worst qualities of mankind have merely, evolved. 

“I appreciate that, Priscilla, really–– you’re going above and beyond,” she affirmed, appreciating the other’s help as she flipped through files, pulling all relevant names. “Yeah, I was planning on it, figured it would be faster than trying to find my way back across town right now.”

“Duty calls for that... guess it’s in my blood.” Of course was what she was going to say but she went for the dramatic speech instead, an overused statement no doubt, but it nonetheless resonated with her. She may be overcompensating a bit, she thought, but she’d do anything to keep her desire for justice at a low simmer, having truly tasted futility. “Problem is that they may still be too busy I guess,” she commented, with an unnoticeable sigh, “if needed, I have some contacts I can pull in New Jersey and Brooklyn,” she offered, unsure how relevant it’d be. Indeed, given the scale of the devastation, plenty of people ended up being transferred outside of Manhatten, and Pris knew many who shared her desire to do their part in helping to mend the spirit of the city.

Elise knew the woman was right, but she was in the process of ignoring her feelings so the statement wasn’t very helpful. There was no clear distinction and the witch couldn’t figure out what she wanted or what she needed. She felt as if she was at a standstill. “Thank you for the advice, but I don’t think my heart knows what it wants,” she confessed. Looking at the shoes in the window again, “I don’t think those shoes are really a necessity, I just think they are cute. The shoes I’m wearing are definitely long lasting.”  

“Hm, what about this,” she suggested, skeptical of how helpful she’d actually be, “would you feel immediately gratified by spending those dollars? Would owning these shoes you have laid your eyes fill you with unspeakable happiness?” She turned back to her, observing her response, “right, maybe not unspeakable.” She shrugged, wondering how ridiculous she must sound right now. “They are pretty cute indeed, guess the only way it could be cuter is if it was 70% off.” The affluent appreciates sales just as much.

“Good, because with my wolfie metabolism it would take me forever to catch up with you,” Kaia joked with a large smile. Even when it wasn’t her in pain but someone else Kaia found herself going straight to humour, making her defence mechanism there’s. “Hmmm, yeah. The Sanctuary… the Sanctuary doesn’t seem fitting.” Hitting a punching bag was one thing, but Kaia didn’t think she could stomach seeing people getting physically hurt right now. Thanking the bartender Kaia took a sip of her drink before turning her attention back to Pris with an impish smile, she knew the huntress well enough by now to know the kind of distraction her friend needed. “How about the casino?” Kaia suggested with a raised eyebrow. Kaia wasn’t much of a gambler but she had gone a few times before with Pris, always keeping an eye out for her friend. 

“Ah yes, how inconvenient for me,” Priscilla appreciated the levity, and responded with an exaggerated raise of her brows and a lazy half smirk. She’s always found it much easier to inject humour in her responses rather than being the one to establish a joke, especially in such a depleted state. “Umm, too many old faces there too, maybe,” she shrugged in agreement, tugging her lips into a half smile, her eyes now more focused on the drinks. 

Pris froze mid-action as she was about to bring the drink towards herself when Kaia made the dangerous suggestion. She gave her a knowing sideway glance, before slowly taking a sip from the drink. “Oh my,” she paused for a moment, and brought her fingers to her lips, resisting an uncharacteristic chortle as she let out a smile of half amusement, half defeat. “That was the absolute last thing you should have said,” she said calmly, slightly shaking her head but it was hard to hide the zealous grin tugging at her lips. “I do wonder how New York is doing tonight,” she mused, bringing up her drink again. She was still a few drinks away from being intoxicated but she had a reason not to dull her senses any further now. “I mean, you really don’t have to indulge me too much, but I could use a second brain,” she said, conceding to her stirred up interest, “I’ll make it a profitable investment for you.”