[The Welcome Home] A Midnight Prowl

[Nya Winters]

Location: The Welcome Home
Timestamp: 48th of Winter, 509 AV

It was a plot, true enough. Nya had never been one to forget a promise. And when little Damien had quietly invited her to visit him after the party on the beach, it only took her a few days to decide it was time to go see. And well, the wall behind The Welcome Home that enclosed a sizable grass courtyard proved to be a less of a barrier to a forest cat than it might be to most others. Well, with hands it was a great deal easier, though in her cat form she'd have managed the wall with more grace than her humanistic scrambling. Nya paused on the top of the stone wall for a few moments, inhaled the scents of the courtyard and then jumped lightly down landing on her toes and the palms of her hands before standing up straight and stretching.

The human that was more forest cat than anything else quickly and quietly scanned the yard, head lowered, and began to prowl its edges to see if she could figure out if she could find the young rascals scent. Nya was restless tonight, unable to settle to sleep, and had left Abashai after he'd settled into sleep. It was the stroke of midnight, but for some reason Nya felt it was appropriate to visit Damien now. After all, he didn't seem to conform to societies norms, so why would he conform to its schedule either? She'd hoped to talk the young boy into letting her see Stitche's eyes too... maybe as he slept. Because truthfully she felt a little... stuck... in a pattern of normality and she needed a little adventure. Breaking into The Welcome Home seemed to satisfy that, even if in truth she was invited. But Nya could pretend, and in doing so she felt much much better.

When she didn't see him, though she could smell him, Nya looked around, hopped onto the large porch, and peered through a nearby window. Her soft alto called out carefully.... "Damien? You here?".

[Stitch]

He could hear them.

They were screaming. They were crying out for him. They were dying. They couldn't understand why he couldn't help them, why he couldn't move, why he couldn't end their pain, their suffering, save them from the death that was so slowly, torturously coming. He struggled against unseen bonds, and he fought against his hidden captors, his muscles screaming out in effort. But for all of his strength, all of his might, all of his magic, he could not move. He simply had to watch. His eyes would not close. His head would not turn away. He HAD to watch them suffer. Somewhere, the back of his mind, cold white eyes demanded he watch.

And the children continued to scream.

Stitch tossed and turned in his bed, sweating, muscles bulging and flexing, his usually happy face stricken with fear and anguish.
________________________________________________________________________

Damien had pretended he was asleep when Stitch first put him to bed, like he always did. He often would try and sneak down for a late night snack from the Kitchen, a few minutes or so after he predicted the Master of the Welcome Home had gone to sleep for the night. This time, Damien had actually lain in bed for a full two hours before moving. He simply stared at the ceiling, his eyes bright, waiting for the girl to arrive. He was going to go downstairs in a bit, and wait for her. Maybe she would come tonight. He wasn't sure. He had waited for a few days now, going down every night to hide in the playroom and watch the back, where they had agreed to meet. She hadn't shown, but he had faith that she would. The way she had been so forward in offering him a dance, it could only mean she was quite interested in everything he had to offer, from a gift of charming good looks, to a quick wit.

That was what Stitch had always told him anyways, and he thought the man was being serious. Stitch was quite playful though, so maybe...

His thoughts were quickly interrupted by the soft voice calling from one of the two playroom windows, and he quickly jumped to his feet, scurrying over to the window he had heard the voice come from. He shivered a bit, the night air was brisk, and he was in simple cotton leggings and a shirt. It WAS winter, and Stitch provided them with plenty of blankets. He just wasn't putting that asset to good use right now, so he would have to deal with it.

Grinning widely, brushing some dark curls from his sparkling blue eyes, he grabbed the windows edge and hoisted himself up onto it, pushing the already slightly-cracked glass open a bit more. "Nya! You came!" He actually giggled a bit, blushing, grabbing the edge of the window and pushing it wide open. "Come in, it is cold." He had definitely learned some manners on how to treat a lady from Stitch, that was for sure.

[Nya Winters]

Nya flared her nostrils and then wrinkled her nose as she glanced around. The air had a tang of fear about it, and she could smell someone sweating - Stitch - some distance and ... upwards? Nya smiled at Damien, scurried through the window dragging a bundle with her, and laid the muslin wrapped package down to hug the boy. "You were up! How have you been? I had to wait a day because there was so much going on in the city." She said softly, then also relieved herself of her backpack, unzipping it. "I brought stuff too... a new game you can play with the others and enough ammunition and prizes to keep you guys going for days." Nya said, pulling forth a velvet bag and shaking it. "This game is one that I learned about from my mother. Sometimes she'd play with me and so I thought to teach you." Nya said, grinning.

She handed the velvet bag to Damien who would find it filled with about twenty marbles of various colors and sizes. "I've been waiting a long time for someone who'd be willing to play with me. I love this game... and I've missed playing it a great deal. Is there someplace we can set up a large chalk circle? And I brought a present for Stitch too... a quilt." Nya said, eager to teach the young boy the game of marbles - if he didn't already know it - and to deliver the quilt to Stitch, whom she was somehow strangely drawn to and felt protective of.

If the boy showed her where they could set up, Nya would carefully pull out a piece of chalk and etch a large circle on the floor - either on stone cobbles or the tile of the building - about a meter in diameter and then she'd divide the marbles into two groups, scattering a second bag into the circle and giving Damien ten random marbles from the first divided velvet bag she'd given him (and then retrieved to teach him the game). "It's easy... the marbles in the circle are prizes. You get to keep whatever you can knock out of the circle. As your collection grows, you will get marbles you really like, and do not want anyone to take, and you'll see that others gain their favorites and you can try to win them from them..." She said with a grin, then leaned over, took a good large marble that looked perfect for a 'shooter' and circled the chalked circle to find an angle she could line up and try and flick a marble into the circle and knock a few more out of. Once she'd demonstrated for Damien, she scattered any marbles she had managed to liberate back into the circle, retrieved her shooter, and gestured for him to go first.

They could easily play for a while, laughing and growing comfortable with the game, until Nya would ask Damien something very important. "Damien... why does it smell like fear in here? It smells like fear and Stitch's sweat. Is he upset about something or afraid?" She asked, concern lacing her words. Nya had to ask the boy, because the longer she was in the house, the more she could smell something was disturbing Stitch. It was much the same with Abashai when he had nightmares and half-woke speaking his strange language and crying out to someone she thought perhaps was his brother.

[Stitch]

There was a lady. A woman. She was on fire. She was burning alive, and she was screaming. Stitch fought against the crowd, struggling against the panicked mob of people, but he couldn't move fast enough. They wouldn't let him, they were too scared, in too much of a mad frenzy. They ran away from the fire, only impairing the man who was trying to run toward it. He was getting there, slowly but surely. But would it be in time? Maybe, just maybe...

From the other end of the street, where Stitch had just came from, another scream reached his ears. It was Damien. He was screaming for help, for Stitch to save him from the monsters. The realization of the situation hit Stitch like a load of bricks. He couldn't save them both. He could only save one.

He would have to let one die. He couldn't protect them both.

A ragged, tormented sob tore from his throat, a tear ran down his cheek, and Stitch jerked awake, gulping in a deep breath.

____________________________________________________________________

Damien seemed to pick up on the game fairly quickly, soon proving to be a young prodigy at it. Eying the marbles through a veil of dark curls, he could line up a shot within seconds, then flick it with his thumb to send it speeding forward in a perfectly straight line. He looked as if he was enjoying himself, brushing his bangs out of his eyes to reveal bright sparkling shades of blue, and a small grin twitching at his lips. He was content to just play with Nya for a bit, sneaking a peek at her every now and then like a little boy with a crush, then going back to the game. At her question, he paused in his game, tilting his head up to regard her with suddenly sad eyes.

"He told me he has started to have nightmares, just recently. He used to be the soundest sleeper there ever was, we could sneak around him all night, now though, it is impossible. He just wakes up too easily." Damien let out a pouting sigh, and looked back down to the game, only to instantly snap his head up at the sound of a creak coming from upstairs. He cocked his head, staring intently at the ceiling, waiting for another sound. It never came.

"Did you hear that?"
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Stitch winced at the creak, but quickly moved on, making sure not to step on another creaky board. Over the years he had worked here, and over the months he had lived here, he had learned where to step and where not to step in order to not make a single bit of noise. He was incredibly un-stealthy everywhere but here, where every bit of the building was like a part of his very own body. He knew it that well. He had learned the quiet steps in order to avoid waking the children when he went downstairs for a midnight snack or something, and soon, the steps had been memorized, and he now walked them naturally.

Pausing half-way down the stairs, he cocked his head, staring down, and into the room below, or what little he could see. Interesting. There was a person in there, maybe two. That was odd. He usually wasn't able to sense auras through walls, or auras that were out of sight. It must be auras that he was familiar with. He stared harder at the piece of the floor he could see, trying to move past the aura of the inanimate object, and into the room beyond. It wasn't working. He could barely sense something beyond the bottom of the stairs, but he certainly couldn't see it, and he certainly had no idea who it was. Perhaps some of the children...?

Smiling, he shrugged, and lifted a hand to wipe at the tears still hiding under his bandages, which he had wore to sleep, as well as the streaks on his cheeks. Best to look presentable. Bending at the knees, he suddenly flung himself forward, his earlier distress forgotten as he played a private little joke on anyone waiting in the livingroom. A grin burst out across his face as he landed at the bottom of the stairs, and shouted an extremely perky...

"BOO!"

[Nya Winters]

Nya screamed and shifted in mid-air in about the fastest time she'd ever managed. One moment the girl was as solid as the other two and then next she melted in a swirl of colorful lights to reform into a shape that was far larger. She nearly jumped out of her skin as her clothing ripped and she went through yet another pair of boots as her great cat paws tore out the leather soles and her lovely decorative belt buckle clattered to the floor. The strangely flowing cloak had been loosely tied so it managed to stay around her neck, though the forest cat fought with it briefly as she skittered across the marble-strewn floor and tried to twist out of its way while still searching for the 'enemy'. It was seriously hard to defend Damien from whatever monster jumped out of the dark when one was ouching across marbles and trying to get a grip on a marble floor where none was really to be had.

Nya ended up in a rather undignified position, resting on her rump, back legs sprawled out, tail askew, and her clothing hanging about her in ruins. She snorted her disapproval and stared at Stitch, realizing suddenly it was him. There wasn't truthfully all that much room in the play area then, for the forest cat was roughly the size of a large horse albeit built slightly differently. She yowled once, scrambled up to her feet again, then winced as she stepped even more scattered marbles with her bare paws.

In another moment, she hissed, snarled, and knocked over a chair backing up to get off the marbles. Then once she was clear of them, the brindled Talderian Forest Cat lost her shape, shifting in another colorful swirl of lights. The young brindled-haired woman reappeared, her clothing ruined. She pulled the cloak tightly about herself and pointed a finger at Stitch, forgetting that it would do no good since he could not see it.

"Do... Don''t ever.... sneak up on us like that again. I might just eat you before I realize who it was!" The forest cat said, half stern half laughing though she looked down at her clothing and decided she was glad she hadn't worn anything fancy. "I brought you something, but I want to make sure your okay first. It smells like fear in here and Damien said you were having nightmares. Is there anything I can do to help?" Besides clean up, that is..... She decided, thinking it wasn't her fault that marbles had gotten knocked all over the place.

"I brought glass marbles to teach Damien how to play them.... I hope we didn't wake you up?" She said sincerely, wanting not to be obtrusive, even though it was probably far too late for that.

[Abashai]

Abashai awoke, feeling Nya's absence. He smiled to himself. Prowling again! He rose from the bed to put another log on the fire, then checked the small table. Sure enough, atop it lay a small scrap of parchment with a scribbled note. Ever since she disappeared one night and ended up in a pit trap deep in the Bronze Wood, Abashai's bondmate was pretty faithful in leaving him notes to her whereabouts. He picked it up and read Nya's familiar handwriting. Went to visit The Welcome Home. Below the text was as a smiley face with feline ears and whiskers. Another grin crept across his face.

Opening the window shutter, Abashai looked out at the sky. He guessed he had only been a sleep a couple of bells, making the time around midnight. He looked down again at the note and sighed. He would find it hard to get back to sleep now. The benshiran had become very used to falling asleep with Nya purring in his ear, and now he found it difficult to fall asleep without her.

Surely Nya had Stitch up by now. Maybe he would take over some tea leaves and join them. He had wanted to visit the owner of the Welcome Home anyway. Stitch was intelligent, compassionate and very easy to talk to. The bonded pair had discussed showing the blind man some of the items they had taken after the incident at the ruins. Nya had thought some of them may have enchantments on them, but they could not figure out what they were, and Abashai insisted that the things be left alone until their true nature could be determined. It was said that the blind man could see using some kind of magic. He could see things about a person or object. Not like a Konti sees in visions, but that he could actually learn things about people and things by looking at them.

Reaching under the bed, Abashai pulled out a blanket, folded over itself. He laid it open, revealing a mace with glass embedded in its head, a jeweled dagger, a longsword in a scabbard and a black silk covered kneeling bar. The cloak was missing. Nya must have taken it with her. He bundled them up in the blanket and laid them on the bed.

He finished dressing, grabbed a pouch of tea leaves and the large bundled blanket and headed out towards the Welcome Home.

Soon he was standing before the orphanage's door, trying to see lights or sounds that would indicate that someone was awake inside. As he raised his hand to knock on the door, he heard a woman's scream from inside, followed by quite a commotion and finally familiar snarling. "Nya?" He called out hesitantly, then banged on the front door.

[Stitch]

Damien yelped as Nya transformed, the little boy moving almost as fast as the Lady herself, shooting over to the far wall, away from both Stitch and Nya, watching her with his eyes as wide as tea saucers. It was never a look of fear, really, more or less pure and utter amazement at the magic that was taking place in front of him. The look of wonder soon turned into a look of shared pain however, as he watched and winced at her graceful "dance" across the floor. She slipped and slid on the marbles, some of them shooting out from under her paws around the room, some of them simply staying right where they had started, and providing quite the painful surface to dance across.

Stitch held a similar, fascinated look on on his face, his mouth hanging open at her transformation. To him, it was much more majestic, a swirling light show of fantastic forest colors, and an aura that somehow reminded him of a cat. Also similar to Damien, that awed look quickly turned into one of shared pain as he winced and flinched at her bumbling across the floor, her now-massive form somewhat hindering her movement, especially across... were those marbles? Stitch became distracted for just a moment as the objects caught his attention, very dim circles of aura on the floor.

Indeed they were! He loved marbles.

A loud crash and a bang brought him back to the Lady Nya, a chair getting knocked over, and her massive cat-form now reducing back to her human form. He didn't even notice that her clothes were ripped and torn, the small detail escaped him, and it was hard for him to pick out the aura of clothes against the aura of the actual person. Lady Nya could likely walk naked around the blind man, and he would never be able to tell the difference. Unfortunately for Damien, the torn clothing fell just in a way to keep the Lady decent, and she was quick to pull her clothes around her. Mumbling about getting her some clothes, he sulked out of the room, his mumbles now turning into something about "almost getting lucky". Quite the young boy indeed, he had already forgotten about the transformation.

Stitch, now worried for her health, quickly strode over to her, his face filled with worry. "Milady, are you okay? This one didn't mean to scare you so, you see, we have had thieves and beggars break in at night to get some food, Fentya usually feeds them, and this one thought he might have a little fun with the two of them, and this one didn't know it was actually you, and Damen..." The words quickly flowed together as Stitch babbled an explanation, not sure if he should help Nya up, or let her do it herself. He had never really touched a woman before, he had always considered it a bit rude, to do so without permission from the lady herself. He hadn't even given a thought yet to why Nya was in his building so late at night. "Can this one do anything, get you some food, do you need help up? There should be some leftover pork left in cold storage, if you want a bite..."

A knock sounded at the door, and Stitch tilted his head to the side, the stricken look only growing. "More company? Please, one moment, Lady Nya... Help yourself to some pork, if you wish..." Stitch hurried out of the room, through the office, and to the door, completely flustered now. As he slowly opened it, letting the aura of the outside fill his senses, he was relieved to see Abashai standing on the other side. His voice spoke his relief as more words cascaded from his lips. "Oh, Milord, hello. This one is happy to see you; you see, Lady Nya was playing with Damen downstairs, and this one woke up, and this one went down and tried to play a joke, but scared Lady Nya terribly." He shook his head, stepping aside, giving Abashai room to enter.

"This one has had really bad luck recently with you two. Always starting awkward situations. This one apologizes, truly. Would you like some roast pork?" Stitch was of course referring to the Fire Festival, and the events of that night.

[Nya Winters]

Nya wasn't exactly hungry. She nodded, frustrated and feeling a bit sorry for the fuss. Stitch was a sneaky sort, and would make a fine forest cat himself - though she suspected he'd be far more in tune to being a mountain cloud cat for those creatures could sneak up on anything their larger cousins couldn't. Nya indignantly climbed to her feet, pulling the remains of the shredded clothing and ruined boots off her feet. She used the cloak to conceal her form and then wadded up the ruined clothing and tossed it into the nearest hearth. She pulled the cloak she was wearing more tightly around her, but it was proving difficult because she'd worn the one she'd found at the temple of Rhysol, and it tended to move with its own will, flowing about her which didn't make it easy to keep tightly wrapped up. She growled at it, tried to tell it to settle down, then finally ended up grabbing fist fulls of its moving cloth and holding it around her that way.

Abashai's voice surprised her, though she smiled when she heard it. He no doubt had a tunic on over his pants or at least a shirt he'd let her wear for a time. His timing couldn't have been better, so when she heard him and stitch talking, she scurried around the fallen marbles that she'd pick up later, and went to greet him.

She followed the path Stitch had taken and ended up beside the doorway herself. Her expression was sheepish as she gazed at her bondmate. Flushing, still holding the cloak around her, she asked quietly. "Abashai, can I have your shirt? I seemed to have ruined my other things. I'll give it back..." She added, as if that would tip the decision in her favor. She had no idea Damien had went to get her something else to wear, or if they even had any clothing that would fit her.

"Stitch scared me... I didn't even hear him. I was playing marbles with Damien and... well he scared me right out of my skin." She said softly, laughing a little, but still red in the face. The nudity under the cloak didn't bother her. Her embarrassment was the result of loosing control of her human shape.

[Abashai]

It didn't take Abashai long to deduce the events of the past few moments. Though the subject of modesty was usually quite serious to Abashai, seeing Nya try to keep herself covered with they mysteriously writhing cloak made him laugh. "Yes, I would say you were scared out of more than your skin. Hello Stitch" He smiled at Stitch, who remained quite cordial despite the ruckus Nya and Abashai had brought to the Home.

"Here Nya," Abashai paused, trying to find a place to set down the large bundle in his arms. He decided to just set it on the floor. Abashai remove his desert coat and pulled his tunic off over his head, handing it to his bondmate. Abashai looked down at his own bare torso, still stirred by the sight of the scar on his chest left by a crossbow bolt, the one that should have killed him. He knew there was a matching scar on his back, where the quarrel's head had thrust out. He wondered if Stitch could see the details of the scar, still so curious about how the man could "see".

Pulling his coat back on, Abashai turned to Stitch. "I apologize if we have disturbed your sleep," he glanced sidelong at Nya, He felt a bit embarrassed to ask the kind man for a favor after Nya had snuck into his house, and he himself had banged on his front door after midnight. "but I figured, if Nya already had you up, you may be able to help us with something." As if it were any concession, he added, "I brought some tea." He motioned to the items bundled in a blanket on the floor. "We have some things that we believe are....special. We thought, maybe, you would be able to discern what kind of enchantments they may possess?"

[Stitch]

Stitch glanced as Nya plodded into the room, joining Stitch and Abashai, and listened as she explained to the Benshira. He stepped back politely, allowing them both room to talk a bit, as well as share clothing. He distantly realized she had likely lost her clothing when she had transformed, and thought of fetching Damien to grab her some clothes. However, it looked like Abashai had it covered, and Stitch simply settled down in a chair to try and let his body and mind relax. The Lady Nya was quite stressful, but it was pleasant to be around. It wasn't like the children weren't as much of a handful, at all hours of the day.

As Abashai explained his presence here, Stitch cocked his head and quietly listened. He shook his head at Abashai's apology, smiling and waving it off with one hand, but quickly took on something of a confused look when Abashai gave words to the the favor he wanted of Stitch. The blind man paused, thinking it over, slowly speaking. "Why do you think this one co-..." He paused as the light dawned on why they had came to him, and he slowly nodded, a small smile flickering on the corners of his lips. "...Ah, this one understands... Well... This one would be happy to help as much as he can, although I am not sure how much I could see, or if I could see anything at all, but..."

Stitch glanced at the cloak the Lady Nya was wearing, and offered her a gentle, bright smile. Words came to his lips, words that he himself didn't know how he knew. He just felt it, the minute his eyes had set upon the still-struggling bundle of cloth. "Lady Nya, perhaps the cloak would cease to struggle if the Lady would perhaps loosen her grip on it, and let it flow freely? This one thinks you are hurting it..." Indeed. He wasn't sure how, and he wasn't sure why it didn't surprise him, but the cloak was pulsing. It was pulsing with pain, light waves of the sensation trickling from the brightly cloaking object, and it was flickering with something else.

A pulse similar to that of a human heartbeat.

Still oddly calm with the fact that he had just looked at what seemed to be a living cloak, Stitch laced his fingers and glanced between Abashai and Nya both, each of them possibly feeling some sort of invisible gaze sweeping over their bodies. "Might this one see all of these items, as well as get a closer look at your cloak, Lady Nya?"

Suddenly, Damien came bumbling in the door, an enthused look on his face, holding a large bundle of Stitch's clothing. "Here, Nya, I brought you some-" The boy paused, his eyes going wide at the sight of Abashai, shirtless, holding out some clothes for Nya. It only took a second before the boy mumbled, and shook his head. "Sue me for not being her size." Grumbling, he spun on his heel and stalked back the way he had came, mumbles echoing back to the three gathered friends.

Stitch chuckled, very well aware of what was going on. Damien had a crush, and Abashai was his competition.