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 Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2008 3:06 pm
The group of four had been a slightly distracting sight to watch for Solomon Utinmakhir Van der Flit the IX. Not to say she'd been using them to 'amuse' herself, but she had found that there was a particular necessity to watching others to keep herself from wrapping her attention up in the boy.
Yes 'the boy'. The one she'd taken her seat by once again after giving the group a relief effort in knowing the Mench child would not simply be dying off alone in the cold. At least, Solomon didn't have plans for it.
Though there was a part of her that felt a -tad- bit twisted about the blood that had gotten on her tail, showing plainly against the white of her fur.
However. it was a thought she doted on for a very short amount of time, instead moving to lean her patient against her side and to make a very Aster-esque attempt to bring him some sort of peace with a very deep rumbling in her chest (as opposed to Asteria's which would have been less deep and less shallow to her being).
Well, little racist Mench or not, she'd have to hope he'd allow the sentiments of a Koshka physician to keep him alive.
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Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2008 4:55 pm
He was a walking moral dilemma, this guy.
... Except that he really couldn't walk at all, of course, and was less a 'guy' than a shaken child... and one who was terrified out of his wits by the thought of dying.
Funny, really; there was a point at which he'd thought it was inevitable anyway, resigned to just lay there in a puddle of his own blood with that damn shoddy tourniquet and pray the wolves didn't come before he froze over completely. It was a grim way of thinking, sure... but honestly, at the time, there really hadn't been much hope to cling to-- not for a damn-near-mortally wounded boy in the middle of the frozen wilderness with a ship's worth of dead comrades around to draw in hungry scavengers.
But then something had changed that morning, and the cabin had suddenly been filled with sounds of some live activity that obviously wasn't hungry bears or dogs, and his last reserves of adrenaline had gotten pumping and he raised his gun to take down the dark furred b*****d responsible for everything...
And then he'd apparently found hope again-- or Hope had found HIM in the form of a very odd fluffy-eared person that had come in SCREECHING profanities... only to redress his wound and keep him company in his maybe-not-last-anymore minutes when the others vanished.
Huh.
Oh, and there was apparently thunder in 'Hope's' chest, because he faintly registered an.. odd rumbling in his haze of semi-consciousness leaning against... him? her? IT? He wanted to say 'her', but that was... probably just the maternal vibe or something his brain was making up.
".... Nn." Okay, his first attempt at speaking had been a little... less than impressive, but it got a little better. Sort of. "... What's that sound?..."
Or maybe it wasn't thunder; it could've been a waterfall too. He liked waterfalls. They were so peaceful and soothing and... s**t, stay awake, STAY AWAKE.
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Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2008 5:43 pm
Or the ocean. Solomon had once been told that her purring was like a seashell, nobody would hear when she was unless she was close to their ears. Perhaps that's why her bedside manner (at least after the 'Don't die!' panic) was so.. intimate. Because her body had already set up a standard for closeness.
But it did well enough to soothe, or at least she was hoping that was the effect it was having, her little patient, continuing to smooth over his hair in the same maternal manner as the vibes she gave off, making a light 'Hmm?' noise at his inquiry.
Before realizing what it was he was asking about.
"I'm purring. Koshka or hybrid children with at least, from what I've seen, 25% physical koshka traits tend to be able to."
It was a rather simple, if still slightly detailed, explaination of what the 'noise' was, when just 'purring' would have probably done the job, but it seemed to her that the kid was.. unfamiliar with such a sound. So it felt like it was warranted.
"Is it bothering you, darling?"
That concern came next as she continued her little actions, only pausing in them to retrieve the earlier dropped canteen to replace it within the one-armed boy's reach before starting to go through her bag for other various reasons. Such as to see if she had anything that would serve him as easily eaten with half-conciousness.
Well, she probably did.
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Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2008 6:40 pm
... Eh, well closeness wasn't something 'the boy' seemed like he was going to complain about, (apparently) content to lay there in a hazy-eyed torpor and just listen to the newly discovered sound. A purr, she'd said? What, like the kind of rumbly sound he used to hear from cats while they'd groom and sunbathe?
Yes, it was sad but true that he'd never met (or known he'd met) a sentient, talking person capable of making that sound before.
... Then again, she (it was a she, right? he wasn't losing it?) had said that it was a Koshka trait, and he'd... never really been close enough to a Koshka to hear it before-- not a tame, civil one anyway.
"... I-It's... fine." Talk, dammit, talk, stay awake. Even if he had never been briefed on formal survival tactics, his instincts were telling him quite plainly that it was a bad idea right now-- and besides, the canteen had reappeared. He was thirsty again seeing it, and fumbled to grasp the container until he could (awkwardly) raise it to his lips and take a few thing swallows.
He probably would've drank the whole thing if he stomach could've taken it, too; god, it felt like there was no moisture left in him or-- ... oh, wait, right, it was all over the floor, never mind.
"... Lady?......" Guessing at gender, and with a bad slur, but... for someone on the verge of passed-outedness, he was actually pretty keen to pick that up. "S'yer name?..."
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Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2008 7:11 pm
DAMN.
Solomon let out a slight internal (easily masked by her purring) groan at having been pinned as being female, keeping a hand nearby to assist him with the canteen (which he seemed to be doing quite well with on his own) if needed.
"My name is Solomon." she replied quietly, feeling it was rather bad, timing wise, to try and dump a long name from HELL and expect him to remember. "Dr. Solomon." Repitition is good.
She really had nothing to say for a moment, seeming very content to keep up her cat-like antics with her grooming of his hair with a very solemn, yet with a slight air of joy, expression on her face.
"What about you, sweetheart? What's your name?" she asked in turn, moving ever so slightly to pull the child over to rest moreso against her torso, which would make for a more 'comfortable' position for him. It was easier to lean back than be laying on one's side afterall.
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Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2008 7:49 pm
... Well, it was probably dumb luck that Solomon's 'true' gender had been so easily guessed, considering that the one to peg her down was little more than a semi-living corpse of a boy who could easily wind up dying anyway. It was still a mystery as to just HOW he'd managed to stay alive for so long, let alone conscious and talking (sort of maybe incoherently).
So she's come out with her name. Solomon Dr. Solomon-- but that was probably two names that his brain couldn't tweeze apart properly, so... eh.
".... E--" HACKCOUGHSHUDDER. Okay, apparently his body didn't like the being moved thing there for a minute-- though once he'd gotten over that little fit, having something warm to rest his back on was a little better, and he was allowed to finish his statement. ".... E-Everett... yeah, I think..."
Funny that he couldn't quite remember his last name, but oh well. If he couldn't, then it wasn't really important in the first place.
... Well, if he really was damned to die our here in the wilderness, he could've been worse. At least there was someone there to keep him company, and 'she' even seemed... pretty nice and comforting, calling him little children's names and stroking his hair and vaguely reminding him of some odd, fluffy-eared parental figure.
It wasn't... really a bad thing though. At least the exhaustion had worn the 'racism' right out of him to the point of no longer caring for appearances (which was good, because... yeah, he looked like s**t).
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Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2008 8:41 pm
"That's a lovely name, Everett." she beamed, sighing and leaning back against the gear behind her and hugging the smaller boy around his shoulder with one arm while fishing for the blanket that the dark haired girl with the travelling group of four had left with her, carefully wrapping it around the boy in her lap.
It was only FREEZING inside the ship, and she'd imagine that as the child had lost a lot of blood he was pretty cold himself. Even if there were some feverish sweats. But if he was at horrible fever sweats yet, then the cold would have been helping.
Which it wasn't.
There was a moment for which Solomon was unsure what she should do for the child. She'd stopped the bleeding, given him water, and now was keeping him warm. What else was there for her t-...
Her brain seemed to come up with some ploy, russling through her bag before producing one of her many guilty pleasures... a bar of chocolate. A little frozen, but..
"Do you like chocolate at all? I'm sure chewing might be hard put if you just let it melt in your mouth it'll help."
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Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2008 9:10 pm
... Oh, what, was he feverish? He'd just been blaming his cold shivers on... well, the cold, really, which was perfectly understandable logic to a brain obviously NOT firing at full capacity due to lovely things like pain and general semi-deadness instead.
But the blanket was a nice change, he noted rather absently, not quite remembering where the thing had come from (all the better though), but still appreciating that it cut the chill a little. Mmm, warm. He liked warm, though it didn't help to encourage the 'hey, don't fall asleep' urge too much.
But what had she just asked now? Something about... liking chocolate?
"... Nnn, a'right..." Not like he'd actually HAD chocolate in... er, months, but food (even of the junky and sugary kind) was probably a good thing, right?
And then, also...
"Doctor?" He couldn't really get out the 'Solomon' part before it was all garbled up, but what came next was--
"... W-What now?"
............. Good question.
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Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2008 9:30 pm
It was the only answer that Solomon needed to prompt her breaking a few blocks off of the bar she'd dug out to offer them to the kid, before popping a few into her own mouth, letting them melt for a few seconds before it prompted possibly the -slowest- chewing process ever.
Along with a gleeful little smile on her face. Lord chocolate made her -so- happy.
She paused mid-joy moment to look down at the boy she'd leaned up against her, rubbing her chin against his head in a maternally doting manner, before sighing.
Solomon really hadn't thought she'd end up picking up a carry-on to take with her to the Mench encampment at the base of the mountains. At least that was as far as she was thinking she'd need to take him.
She'd also not thought ahead enough to think of how she'd be GETTING Everett to point B at this point.
"Well... you need to get the strength to walk and stand first, sweetheart... once you've recovered that much it'll make getting out of here easier."
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Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2008 9:57 pm
For a moment, just a split second of lapsed thought, Everett reached for the pieces of chocolate with his left hand... only to be reminded just as quickly with a searing JOLT of discomfort that, sorry, that particular limb was butchered somewhere that wasn't attached to him, and so he opted for the right instead.
Damn, it was strange to suddenly have a (literal) piece of himself missing, and it even still HURT despite not being there. Just how that was possible didn't quite compute in his brain, but he didn't think on it, and turned his attention on to the chocolate instead. It took a few seconds to melt but..
Oooh, that was niiice...
Pirates and guns aside, he was still just a kid... and as a kid, there was a very strange and powerful comfort to little gestures like sweets.
"... I cn'walk." No he couldn't and it was obvious, but... at least he seemed determined to prove himself as capable instead of giving up? "Just gimme a... few m'nutes..."
Okay, a few HOURS (or DAYS?) more like, but... uh. Little steps?
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Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2008 10:04 pm
And seeing him try for it with his now missing limb caused a special pang of sympathy in Solomon's heart, causing her to wrap both arms around his shoulders and sigh.
She almost wanted to cry for him.
That was -not- a good connection for her to have made to this kid, but really it was her first time treating such a bad wound on a small body. A small and stubborn body if he was still awake and was insisting he could walk.
Which she of course knew was -not- possible based on that he hadn't been able to reach the gun that was sitting several feet away from them now, as well as had some problems getting himself a drink.
Solomon cradle'd the boy against herself after a minute, returning to smoothing over his hair, something her own mom had done almost OCDly to her as a child, thus a special 'mommy' mannerism she was passing on to this, or in the case 'her', child.
"Well, you should at least rest for a while, you've lost a lot of blood and if you don't sleep you won't recover as quickly, sweetie." she suggested, wishing her body wouldn't be absorbing the heat he let off...
Solomon was a body of fur, so she was already _RADIATING_ it into the general area of the two.
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Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2008 10:40 pm
Hnn, and now what was this? A curiously gentle embrace?... That wasn't the sort of physical contact he'd been exposed to in... well, again, months, but some starved and half-alive impulse of immaturity in Everett was eager to lap it up. Sure, by all rights a haughty (and racist) pirate kid should've been shrieking indignation over such treatment, but...
Why fight a pleasant thing?
Just giving in was the path of least resistance, anyway, and he wasn't about to waste his strength on something like fighting. If he had, he would've probably been dead already.
"... Mm'fine," he persisted, practically incoherent with the slurring and mumbling now (and making it very apparent that the 'rest' was going to win out anyway). "Dun'wanna... not wake up 'gain... or something... like th'other guys..."
Not that he had a choice, since that was about the point he finally (and anti-climactically) passed out anyway with a little, fussy groan of protest.
So much for that.
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Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2008 10:49 pm
Solomon continued to purr as the child slept against her, still doting upon him in her little motherly fashion and often smoothing a hand over his forehead and other areas of his face.
Lord, had she been this small once too? At least, he was a -big- small. Lord, little teenagers were.. well.. LITTLE. It was a thought that fascinated her, leaving her doting (and sipping on her COLD, oh how horrible that was in this weather, water) on him as he slept....
And it felt like he slept for HOURS, causing her to often pause and make sure he was breathing, before resuming her activities for a few minutes (eating chocolate, drinking water, fauning over the child) before she'd do it again.
But it was good for him, at least to her. If he woke up feeling better, which he -should- have, they'd be able to scrounge him up a coat, maybe shove some more bullets into his gun, and go out into the snow.
Which, only after five or -six- hours (the time it would have taken to get to Salig), Solomon finally pushed the boy's ear up against her chest to purr him awake. Now he needed to move to generate some body heat and so he wouldn't think he died.
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Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2008 11:31 pm
... He vaguely remember dreaming about the ocean.
Which was funny, really, because he Everett couldn't recall a damned thing about the images or sights or smells of his little hallucination. No, all he remembered was the funny rumbling sound of the waves, quietly washing in and out, quieter and louder, louder, louder-- oh.
... And it was when the sound hit a level of 'unusually and startlingly loud' that he stirred again, mumbling something of a dull groan as he cracked one eyelid and then the other. His eyes... still looked unsettlingly hazy and glazed over in color, but there was something a little more alert about them now, attempting to focus on the source of the ocean-rumble-purr-whatever-it-was and remember just how the hell he'd gotten there in the first place.
But... he was awake, and that in an of itself was a strange relief. Furthermore, he hurt all over (wretched muscle aches), but at the same time, didn't feel quite as pathetically weak and helpless. Maybe he'd finally managed to shrug off the last of the initial shock from the injury.
"... Doctor?" Dry thought, though clearer pronunciation. Now what had the name been? Saul, Solo... OH. "S... Solomon?"
Just how long had he been out, anyway? The sun looked like it was already sinking dangerously low toward the mountains now, and... he recalled it being morning earlier, right?
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Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2008 11:46 pm
It had probably taken her about 4 minutes to wake him. Not a bad time, but frankly she would have rather the boy not have made her curious if he'd died on her in the last 'Check on in ten minutes' session.
However, once he stirred that dispelled her little bit of doubt, instead earning a smile as she offered him the chocolate and canteen again, pondering if more food (or stuff resembling it) would do him some good. Note to self: Get better travel-handy food for cases like this.
"Mmmhmm. That's me. Doctor Solomon." she confirmed, ruffling his hair a bit, then sighing.
Well, he'd woken up and he seemed to be doing well enough at least.
"Are you feeling better, Everett?" she inquired, again starting to ruffle through her bag, only to stop and again sit back.
"Would you rather rest until morning, sweetheart, or do you think you're up for walking a couple of miles in the snow at night?"
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