#runswick

A Bit of Runswick, Mark Senior, late 19th to early 20th century

Business had just started up for the day, and already a few people had passed through the store. Luckily, it hadn’t gotten too busy yet. Jakoby was behind the counter on his own at the moment. His mother was in the back, with Levi, and Asrael was lounging behind the counter at Jakoby’s feet. He smiled down at her. “How we doing down there?” he said softly. She purred quietly and nuzzled her head against his leg. He crouched down behind the counter and ran his fingers through her fur gently. She lifted her head towards him, and he leaned closer to place a soft kiss on the top of her head. After a moment, the bell over the front door rang, signaling the sound of someone entering. He popped back up to greet the person entering. “Morning,” he said cheerfully. “What can I help you with today?”

When consciousness returned to Jax, their body ached and throbbed painfully and they were laying in a small, but still concerning, pool of their own blood. They pulled their breath in with difficulty, and an agonized noise came out of them as pain shot through them. Slowly, they pushed themself up so they were sitting, and they looked down at their abdomen, the source of their pain. Their clothes were intact, which wasn’t a shock to them. It just meant that the Clothes of amending were still working. Carefully, they lifted their shirt to examine the wound. It wasn’t very big, but it was deep. It was lucky they hadn’t bled out.

As Jax lowered their shirt slowly back down, they realized how loose it seemed to feel. It was only then they realized they were in their Abrams persona as they had been the night before. That was surprising. They hadn’t meant to revert back to their true form. The last time Jax had reverted when passed out was years ago, when Cass was still alive and training them. They had worked so hard to get to the point where they didn’t even need to try to make sure that never happened. Something didn’t feel right. Their head was fuzzy and they could barely remember what had happened only a few hours prior.

They knew they had gotten attacked by… something. A person? It had to have been. But the wound seemed more like it had been caused by… teeth. Like an animal bite. But that didn’t make sense. Jax sighed. Maybe they had lost more blood than they realized. They needed to get help — real help, and they weren’t going to get it out here.

They painfully pushed themself to their feet and, using their staff to assist in walking, they began to stumble through the woods towards what they hoped was the general direction of the city. It was a long and arduous journey and eventually, Jax felt their legs give out from under them. They fell to their hands and knees and their staff clattered to the ground. Jax moved so they were sitting with their back against one of the massive redwood trees that made up the forest. They could see the city walls. They were so close, but they were completely and utterly exhausted. They felt their eyes drift close. Maybe just resting for a moment wouldn’t be a bad idea…

So far there are only a few rules: 

1. No cheating (x-ray / duping / etc.) 

2. No griefing 

3. No stealing 

Thalra watched the dancers from the edge of the tent, eyes following the fluid movements as the music swelled the dancers twirled, skirts billowing out like unfolding flowers. The night was very young and energy was high as the crowds tried to stave off the creeping cold by drinking and dancing. Thalra too hadn’t let herself stay still for long for fear of being caught in some social engagement she wasn’t ready to have. The rumors about her abandoning her business had just started to die down when she’d returned to Myrefall, and now that she’d gone to retake her home, people were curious when she’d be opening her doors to clients again. Thalra of course couldn’t tell them her real answer; that she didn’t know when, if ever, she’d be taking clients again, but something vague would only satisfy them for so long.

Now she was hidden away near the back of a less populated tent, and she thought her attempt at subtly had worked until she felt a tap on her shoulder and a taller human gentleman introduced himself with an overly-charming smile and a cocky confidence she’d stopped finding appealing the first dozen times she’d seen it in young men like him. He introduced himself with a name that reeked of new money, and she could tell he was just gearing up to ask her to dance so that she would be trapped in conversation with him, when she saw Nil coming into the tent.

“Sorry, you’ll have to excuse me, I have a rather important matter to attend to. Why don’t we pick this conversation up at another time?” She said it graciously, as if it were truly a tragedy that they were parting, but firmly too, with no room for argument. Thalra went straight for Nil, pushing him back out of the tent into the bracing night air. “You know, I’m not sure if my tolerance for slimy weirdos has diminished, or if the cold’s just brought them out in droves, but not a single decent person has asked me to dance tonight.” She sighed morosely and her breath condensed in the air around her in a little cloud of fog. “It’s a pity, the band’s really good.”

Time: Mid-morning

Location: Somewhere in Runswick

Closed: @jyndora

Children were expensive. 

They needed constant feeding, new clothes because; “Vuka! Ekemon clawed through my shirt!” or the new favorite, “Smoke is teething, Vuka, we all need ice-cream.” 

Which is how the day after duking it out with an angry blanket, Vukasin found themselves on the streets, a way-to-excited Melech in tow. At least the little scamp was attracting them customers with his gap toothed smile. He’d even consented to wearing one of Vuka’s cat-eared beanies which did a wonderful job hiding his horns. 

“Portrait for a silver!” Vukasin called as they strode through the streets. 

“Portrait! Silver!” Ekemon mimicked cheerfully, perched on Vukasin’ shoulders.

“Portrait for a silver! Get your likeness down on paper! Makes for a great gift!” They eyes swept over and through the crowd, bowing here and there with much practiced flair. The brat on their shoulders squealed loudly every time. 

“Portrait Gifts!”

Won’t take but a minute of your time, how about you, my lady?” They halted in front of a tall figure and smiled winningly. “A portrait to start off your day?”