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Posted: Tue May 11, 2010 1:08 pm
WHO Elsie Crane & Plague!Cup, Sloane (&possible Lady Estratus)
WHERE North Base, Shyregoed
WHEN Late-Morning/Early Afternoon; Lunchtime
That morning, Elsie had woken up in a cold sweat. She'd been sick for a few days after her arrival at the Base, her body having barely held on once it found she was safe and no longer in harm's path. The cold had onset itself rather rapidly once she'd taken to bed after her meeting with the Lady Estratus, and for nearly a week she'd stayed in the provided bed, tossing and turning and burning with fever. Seeing as the disease was not plague, just a combination of elemental stress, poor nutrition and everything else, she wasn't left to her own devices and was cared for, nursed even. Such actions were so foreign to Elsie that most of her memories were blurs, the days moving together in one jump until the morning her fever broke. The sheets were soaked as she sat up, and in a dizzying haze she tried to survey the area in which she was being kept. nothing look familiar, yet despite the fear she may have possessed she had no desire to run and hide. This place was warm and smelt clean - things she hadn't felt or known since childhood.
Her joints were stiff from staying in bed for so long and they caused her slight discomfort as she attempted to slide out of the bed, her stance unsteady as her feet met the cold floor. Her toes instantly curled and a shiver ran itself from her ankles and up her spine, but nothing too traumatic. It was refreshingly invigorating, and she staggered forward towards a table in the corner. It was set near a small fireplace, in which a roary fire burned merrily, and she was quite pleased to see that her possessions had been laid to rest on the tabletop. The clothing she had been wearing was nowhere to be seen, the nightgown she had on not her own, but those articles didn't really matter. Her relief was based on the coffee cup that sat near a pot of freshly brewed coffee, and a thin smile crossed her features.
"Jesse."
Her words were breathy, whispering. She likely hadn't spoken since that late night meeting with the Lady not so long ago, and having a sore throat mixed with coughing did nothing for her voice. A chair was pulled out and she sat herself down, reaching and pouring some of the warm liquid into the empty cup. Almost instantly the familiar smell of decay wafted upwards, and her nose wrinkled as she forced it to adjust.
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Posted: Fri Jun 11, 2010 11:04 am
A ruckus had formed shortly after Miss Crane was given her room and taken care of; an uproar from the story she had woven. The Lady Estratus, as emotionally unforthcoming as ever, actually mentioned to Sloane prior to their own time of sleep that she felt guilt over the Miss's situation, but she did not allow the Plague to speak anymore of it past the point of acknolwedgement and locked herself in her room for the night. He had no doubts that the raven haired lady was not sleeping, but in fact drawing out plans to do some sort of attack or other sorts of espionage for that castle in particular.
However, Sloane was at a loss, and always would be at how his lady reacted to things. Never would she request help or advice, though she was known to take it on the occasion that it was simply given, but there he was, desiring with all his being to just be there for the woman who refused at every turn to acknowledge her emotions. And so, to quell his need for assisting, he set himself to help someone who would at least take it and be thankful.
"Thank you, it smells divine," the red headed Plague leaned in close to a cup of amber colored steaming liquid, small and crunched leaves floating about the bottom as they continued to give off flavor. Taking care as he picked it up, Sloane placed the cup on a tray beside a bowl of broth and two slices of bread. A meager breakfast, but he was unsure of just how the maiden was fairing and didn't want to give her something she might not agree with. Hopefully the tea and broth would warm her and fix any ills she might have acquired during her long trek through the mountains, and the toast would ease her stomach and ready it for things more palatable.
A few glances were offered him as he walked by, silver tray in hand, and as he approached Miss Elsie Crane's door, he adjusted the tray onto just one hand to better knock with the other. Much more polite than kicking the door with his boot, of course. "Dear Elsie, I apologize for the disruption, but are you awake? It is Sloane; I've brought some breakfast for you."
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Posted: Wed Jul 07, 2010 10:34 am
"Ah, do come in. I'm sitting over by the fireplace."
Elsie quickly shifted and adjusted herself to look more modest for the company that entered, knowing that even though she'd been sickly for the beginning of her stay it was in her best interests to make herself presentable whenever someone arrived. It was odd of her to consider the present company something she needed to look fancy for considering where she was and what he was, but even a lowly streetwalker like Elsie had some manners at the very least. Modesty no but yes to manners. An odd combination, but it always seemed to serve her well whenever the occasion called for it.
Her hands were wrapped around the cup of coffee when Sloane entered in, Elsie no longer taken aback by his appearance but rather welcoming his company instead. The smell of decay wafted about her from the cup beneath her fingers and she smiled weakly, her body still so frail from the days of fever and the nights of tossing and turning. Her hair was likely matted to her face still from sweat an she looked unwashed no matter how much she tried to straighten herself but for some reason the woman felt that this Plague entering in carrying food wouldn't be too picky about her looks.
"Good morning Sloane, or is it the afternoon? I'm afraid I have lost track of the time while I lay here. I am ashamed to be taking such advantage of your hospitality."
She gave a sheepish grin though it was an honest one, one of a person glad for company and a face that was warm and kind all at once.
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Posted: Wed Jul 21, 2010 12:02 pm
Taking care to balance the tray on one arm, Sloane turned the knob and the door opened a crack before it was nudged fully open with his side and he entered. For privacy's sake, he closed the door gently behind himself with his foot and set the tray on the nearest table.
He couldn't help but smile at her reaction to what time of day it must have been, it was rather endearing. "Just a quarter past noon, you've not slept the day away yet," hopefully this reassured her. Taking a deep breath, he noted the smell of coffee and also something obviously mingling with it; it wasn't any human smells Elsie might have been giving off due to her state (in actually, she still smelled alright given the circumstances) but it was as any encounter he had been given the privilege to experience with others of his own. Did she know what she held in her hands was, though, he wondered, and should be bother mentioning it? Either way, he would be reporting this to his Lady and she would be most inwardly pleased. "I've brought you some breakfast... though I suppose it would be lunch now," with a quiet chuckle, he retrieved the tray and set it nearer to her so she could examine the contents. Hopefully they would be too her liking, but if not, he could always fetch other things.
Coffee probably wasn't the best thing for an ill stomach, let alone decaying coffee.
"And please, dear Elsie, have no fear. You are in our care, now. You are not taking advantage of us, there is no reason to be ashamed. You did what was asked of you, now we must repay that debt. You have helped us more than you know," and with that, the armored Plague placed a gauntlet over his heart, if it is there, and bowed. She would have her official induction as an Augur performed at a later date, when she was well enough, but whether Miss Elsie Crane had any magical potential or not was of no concern; she had done the Fellowship a great service by going out into that building and discovering the horrors within and now, even still, she assists them by being a Grimm, whether she is aware of it or not.
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Posted: Fri Jul 30, 2010 8:00 pm
Elsie gave a soft chuckle and smile to Sloane's light and friendly response about the time, and she casually brushed a strand of hair from in front of her face to behind her ear. She looked thin, tired, as though all the resting she'd been doing hardly assisted her health in any way at all. Her eyes were cast down at the coffee cup more than actually up at the person who was addressing her, though it was more a weary result than trying to avoid the creature's - no, man is what she called him - gaze.
"Even though you are so kind to extend much to me, I still cannot help but feel as though I should be repaying my debts to you for caring for my health. I could understand allowing me to stay in return for that errand, but you did not have to try and nurse me back into health as well. Such kindness on your part was, is, something I cannot overlook."
She wasn't really looking a gift horse in the mouth so much as she just wanted to make sure it was all okay. Elsie had always been a bit uneasy about accepting things from anyone before she'd gotten pregnant with Jesse, though during the time she carried him and his short months afterward she took pity without even batting an eyelash. With his death returned some of her more reserved feelings, though she still would take what was handed to her.
Sitting silent for a moment as though she wanted to think of what to say next, her stomach rumbled in a protest that caused the color of her cheeks to lift slightly. It was good to see she could still manage a healthy blush that came natural instead of induced from fever, and a weak chuckle once again escaped her chapped from fever lips.
"It looks as though my stomach is far more honest than my mouth, and by your leave I will take part in the meal you've so kindly brought to me."
The young woman placed her hands together as if mumbling a prayer before she partook in the food before her, and she gingerly took a piece of bread to her lips before she nibbled at a corner. It was just a test on the taste, not a test for poison, but her stomach protested how slowly she was moving and seemed to demand much more. Almost as if chiming in the smell of decay from the cup increased - perhaps it was only her imagination?
"Also, good Sir, may I ask of you a few questions? I was. . .unable to speak with you on my arrival and if it is not too much trouble there are things I would like to know."
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Posted: Mon Aug 02, 2010 8:07 am
Truly, Sloane felt no need for her to make such a big thing out of what was merely instinctual from him and the Fellowship as a whole. They took care of them and theirs, and there were a lot of theirs, adding dear Elsie to the mix was no more taxing than adding anyone else. However, it seemed she would not be swayed and so he allowed her to continue, smiling and keeping his teeth hidden -- no need to accidentally intimidate the woman -- and nodded with her statements, deciding it best to just take them gratefully and move on.
How funny it would have been for the both of them to while the afternoon away with a constant passing of "Thank you" "No, thank you".
The quiet whine from her stomach caused Sloane to chuckle, always finding humans to be curious and interesting, it seemed to him that their minds would set themselves into something but their bodies would protest and steer them on the proper course. It was odd, he thought, how humans appeared to be disconnected from their own primal instincts at times, or even from their own physical forms.
Sloane's smile, ever present, faltered as Elsie raised her hands in prayer. Curiosity was the cause, the sword Plague did see this often but he was always unsure of why some humans did it and others didn't. His Lady, for instance, did not. Still, he imagined it would be rude to ask and so he kept silent, closing his eyes for a moment and inhaling deeply the stench of coffee and rot. He looked serene.
Taking a more professional stance, Sloane slipped his arms behind his back and stood at attention, locking eyes with Elsie and bowing his head. "You may ask me anything you like," he spoke calmly, smile returning. All sorts of thoughts were buzzing about his head as he wondered what sorts of queries Elsie might have had; perhaps about Plagues, perhaps about himself, maybe his Lady, the Mages, or even what she had seen thanks to his Lady's orders. "I will attempt to be as detailed as possible in my responses, dear Elsie."
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Posted: Wed Sep 15, 2010 8:18 am
"Please forgive me if I sound too forward...but are you indeed a Plague? I have only heard rumors from where I lived since we were in the poorer part of the town, never allowed up to where there was a higher chance of seeing one of these mythical creatures. My brother would often read the paper to me about how more and more were being found, but I was never able to find out on my own. I...cannot read nor write, and that limits what I can do on my own."
Would Sloane be surprised to find that she couldn't read or write, or would he expect it? Elsie wasn't a noble's daughter, or even one of a decent and honest craftsman. Her whole being called out signs of malnutrition and a poor lifestyle so perhaps all she was doing for him was confirming his suspicions.
"And...what is so special about Jesse's cup? I have seen several of your people here come in and glance at it while they thought I was sleeping, but no one will tell me anything should I try and ask. Have I done something wrong?"
After asking her questions the woman placed another bit of food in her mouth, slowly and carefully to make sure her weary jaws could process the amount given. The last thing she wanted to do after all this time was choke on a simple breakfast, not after surviving all she had to get here and tell her story.
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Posted: Wed Sep 15, 2010 5:55 pm
This question was not unexpected, though the following explanation of why she requested the answer was a bit surprising to Sloane. How she seemed to speak down on herself for the fact she could not read or write made him frown a bit--he would have to raise her spirits about that matter.
Now, how to address this question fully... "I am, dear Elsie," he began gently, judging her reaction first before continuing. Sloane offered a soft smile to attempt and reassure her she was still in no danger. "My Lady has taken great care of me so that I am what I am today, and there are many others like her in these walls." The Plague's head turned as he gazed at the corners of the room for emphasis. "Many Grimms with many Plagues."
What started as a smile turned into a grin, though he was careful not to let his sharp teeth show too much, lest he intimidate the poor woman. Bowing slightly and giving a whisper, the man-Plague winked as he confided "I cannot read or write, either."
The next one was only slightly less expected. She was perceptive, Miss Elsie Crane, and now knowing that people were coming in and examining the cup without her regard made his grin nearly disappear. It wasn't right to come into a woman's room without her permission, let alone when they're unaware of it.
"Oh, please, no, dear Elsie," Sloane lifted up a hand to stay her feelings of self doubt, "You have not done a thing wrong, not in the least." The rest would be a might trickier to explain, however. The way she worded the first bit of the question, 'Jessie's cup', Sloane could only assume that the cup was a belonging of someone very dear to Elsie who was likely no longer with them. The disease was unforgiving.
Uttering a quiet sight, Sloane resumed his at-attention position, eyes locked on the cup instead of the woman trying to eat her breakfast before him. "Your cup..." he mused aloud, taking another deep breath of the rot filled air, "Is of my kin." He turned back to her, unsure how clear that would have bee. "It has become tainted by the black fingers of the plague, dear Elsie. Your cup will grow. It will become as I am." For most, this was a difficult concept to comprehend. Disease and inanimate objects merging to create a sentient being? But it was the truth...
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Posted: Mon Sep 20, 2010 9:30 am
It did indeed surprise Elsie to know that Sloane could not read nor write himself, but his response to being a Plague hardly even made her bat her eyes. He gave her that same feeling she had once felt from a boy called Adal, a feeling that once froze her bones inside her body and made her veins run with ice instead of blood. She had felt that way about Sloane once, when she first arrived and he spoke to her, but not all she could feel around him was nothing but peace and safety. Perhaps the feeling was not from him alone however, but from the entire situation she had found herself in. Here, at the Base, she was safe from everything. She would not starve here, she would not go for want in clothing or food or being clean. She could live here comfortably if she wished, but...no. Perhaps not.
As the plague continued to speak with her the young woman gave him her rapt attention, her jaw only opening slightly with surprise as he mention what would become of her small cup. Adal had mentioned, had he not? Sloane only confused her more by saying the cup was tained and turning into something such as he, but was that possible? Jesse did not die in a way to invite plague into the house.
"But Jesse....did not die of the plague. His body never showed signs of the illness, I was always so careful for him - I never held him after my work. Could he...could his ashes have become tainted when I lied to have him burned with the others? Am I to blame then for what is becoming of the urn I created for him?"
A hand slowly rose to the woman's mouth as she covered most of her lower jaw, the small amount of food she'd gotten into her stomach threatening to show itself before her once more as she thought about the situation. Was Elsie really to blame then for all of this trouble? Or was it a combination effect, since Thomas had been the one to pour the ashes out originally? Did...Jesse bear her a grudge for letting him die? Is that way he tainted the cup Elsie associated with his memory?
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Posted: Tue Oct 12, 2010 8:19 am
With each word he spoke, it seemed as though Elsie was falling into a state of deeper discontent. The things he was saying were confusing her, making her uncomfortable, but however it happened, it was the truth.
The poor woman spoke up, attempting to rationalize and disprove, some how make sense of it all and perhaps linger in the illusion that the cup was just a gentle reminder of her passed son, but there was so much more to it. Mention of her work rose and Sloane's brows knit curiously but now was far from the time to ask, his own thoughts floating aimlessly on the current of Elsie's words as she leaped from idea to idea.
"Oh, Elsie..." he began, stepping closer to her carefully as she seemed unsure whether or not she was going to get sick. Taking to one knee before her, he rested a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle grip, an attempt at being reassuring. "These things happen... Even though you were careful, perhaps it could not be avoided. It is as it is... I suppose it is fate, and the only one at blame for that is fate itself." Whatever fears she had, whether well placed or not, Sloane could not bear to see her-- see anyone --force them with full force onto themselves without definitive proof.
As far as Sloane was concerned, perhaps twisted by his own heritage, Elsie was no more guilty of infecting the cup than she was guilty for having a child. To him, there were no negative connotations carried over to a Grimm for assisting knowingly or unknowingly to the creation of a Plague. Ignorant as he was to Elsie's story, Jesse's story, and the cup's story, he would still adamantly feel this way. After all, the life of death would soon show itself to Elsie and perhaps then she would not feel so sickened by whatever had caused the infection to begin with.
"It is possible I have overstayed my welcome in lingering here," he muttered softly, looking over to the food tray he brought in, "I did not mean to make you feel more ill or uneasy. If you wish, I will take my leave and we may speak again when you are feeling better." A calm pat of her shoulder and a flash of his smile ended their close proximity as he stood once more.
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