#f2f posts

Even as she's blinking the disorientation from her bright orange eyes, she still carries herself with confidence, holding some sort of shimmering, handle-held mask and a letter in her left hand. "Man, that took way more doing than I expected." A pause, a deep breath to draw herself up a touch more, and them a gentle smile as she finally focuses enough to see. "Worth it, though. I don't get new sights like this often enough."

Jack shows up in the evening, a little late as was her usual wont, though dressed up for far more of a tussle than Shy usually sees her in.  Her vest lacks the usual array of flags and pins, instead looking plain but heavy and somewhat bulky, and the sheen of her clothes says they’re made of something that isn’t just your standard leather, denim or wool.  She’s even got a set of worn leather bracers on her forearms, studded and dark red, and her cleats thump just a little bit more heavily as she steps out of the bright, cool orange rift of light that she so often used to get around.

"Oh! Hey, Jack, c'mon in." The trailer door creaks as it opens, and with a slight shudder at the noise, she steps aside to let Jack inside.

Shy knows why she's here; she's not a fool, nor does she think for even a moment that Jack would assume such. Still, it's nice to pretend they're not going to talk about it, if only a moment. Being kidnapped, even if only for a single date, is pretty traumatic and even if she desperately tried to keep up appearances, there were bound to be concerns.

"You want something to drink? I've got lemonade, Big Red, Diet Dr. Pepsi, and a couple cans of Heineken in the fridge. You can help yourself to anything you want."

A trailer?  Jack was expecting a flat, maybe even a townhouse, this was definitely a step down.  Still, mobile place, no fixed address, easier to keep on the move - not a bad idea given the recent shit to hit the fan.  She could appreciate that, even as the weight of the whole place shifted ever so slightly under her heavy footsteps.  And that muted greeting?  Wow, Shy must’ve been out of it.  Normally there was a hug, and a big smile - all this was pretty telling.

Rather than try to bludgeon Shy with mirth, Jack tries to play herself down a bit, taking a cooler-headed demeanour than usual.  “Well, hey, if you′re offering.  Been a while since I had Heineken, shit’s hard to get hold of back home."

 "I...I don't think it's possible to like something more." Shy is, predictably, delighted by this. "You take care of all these cats yourself?! And...do you need any help?"

“I mean.  I house them, make sure they’re fed and watered and warm enough during the winter, but I dunno if I qualify as a proper caretaker.”

Jack hefted another palette of dry food up, hauling it out of the store room of the somewhat dilapitated gas station she’d turned an impromptu cat-home.  There was a bit of curiosity from all the rattling, but since food wasn’t being poured into dishes, Jack wasn’t being mobbed by hungry little faces.

“The like, capital S shelters help out though, between getting shots and spays done, and getting the people-ready ones brought into proper places and ready for adoption.  I could be doing more for ‘em, but... y’know, not exactly rocking a vet’s degree.”

She melts into the touch. It never hit her until now how easy it is to be close to her; even if Shy’s upset and wants to hide or run away, it doesn’t compare to being close to someone this important to you.

“Thank you for…honestly, everything.” Shy stood slightly on tiptoe, butting her head gently just under Jack’s chin. “I know you’re not mad…I do appreciate that’s something I’ve never had to worry about. I just hate that I couldn’t keep things under control enough to deal with it and move on. You’re not the one who should have to deal with my issues.”

“Hey, what’s the use of being this big and strong if I can’t let you borrow some of it now and then, right?”  

As Shy’s head rises, Jack plants a soft kiss in her hair, then slowly lets her arms relax.  She could nestle all they liked when they were home, comfortable, and a bit safer; for now, the reassurances would have to do.

And show up, Jack does - resplendant in a sleeveless, slightly puffy flannel vest and a pair of roughed-up brown jeans, looking very much the kind of woodswoman that could start a roaring bonfire with a good axe and some flint.  Being six foot five and very buff probably doesn’t harm that image either.

-prot!  Jack shows up at the earlier co-ordinates, dressed down but still looking plenty herself in a de-sleeved metalocalypse tee and dark red jeans.  A bit of cat fluff clings to a shoulder she’s casually dusting - she was tense, in her own ‘too cool to look nervous’ kind of way. 

Was she submitting herself to a personality alteration?  Yeah, kind of.  Was that intimidating?  Also, yeah, kind of.  But after a half-dozen different attempts with and without professional help to get over her strongest phobias, what the hell, maybe cheating was okay. 

Jack shows up at the given coordinates soon enough, simply appearifying in place rather than blasting herself there on a beam of music and lightning - after all, she wanted to save her energy.  She seems to be dressed a bit lightly for the occasion, having taken to knee-length shorts, a sleeveless tight shirt and a denim vest.