Fade
Posted: Sun Jul 05, 2020 9:36 am
36th of Searing 120
His condition was... Pretty bad, yeah. Through the haze of his concussion, the bleeding, and the white-hot sting that frayed his nerves, he still knew that this was one of the worst beatings he'd endured, probably the worst. But, to determine the level of fucked-up he was, he'd need to be able to think straight, and that wouldn't come around for some time. Like a drunk, the lizard wandered and limped to his home, where he very gently let himself in. His nose had stopped bleeding at that point, but it was clogged with clotted blood and nasal fluid. He breathed through his mouth, which hung open partially as he dragged his sprained ankle through the door, then looked to Cojack. As always, he was asleep. Ark wasted no time, and lowered to squat by the dead hearth, and gripped the loose floorboard with his shot fingers.
A hard yank saw the board come free and exposed the contents within to the cool night air that flowed freely through the house. Cojack still slept- he believed- he couldn't tell. His shaky hand reached into the ground, where he turned the jar of their savings so that the lid faced upward, then gently opened it with both claws and drew a wad of farthing notes from its contents. He wasn't sure how much he'd need to buy rubbing alcohol and bandages, as well as a few splints, but he hoped that was enough. He couldn't count; his vision blurred too harshly. So, he just had to pray that the shop owner would take pity and accept the money even if it wasn't enough. Once he had the cash, he carefully emptied his ruined backpack of all the firewood and tinder, then put the farthing notes inside. Once he was done there, he covered up the board again and left. Despite his wounded stupor, he was sure to close and lock the door behind him for the sake of Cojack.
Then began his long limp to the general store, which he could only pray had what he needed. Some rogue string of memory could recall seeing bandages and alcohol there once upon a time, but again, he was unsure. Nothing was firing right in his mind, his vision still hadn't completely cleared and the sound of his own quickened heartbeat and breathing was almost deafening in his ears. If he'd had any capacity at all to worry, he'd have thought that he was dying. But instead, his instinct of self-preservation had completely taken over. He needed to patch himself up and soon. So, that was all he focussed on. There were very few people on the streets of Lower Nivenhain at this hour, and even fewer seemed interested in being anywhere near the broken lizard. By now, the bleeding had stopped, but his wounds were still fresh and needed cleaning and covering. He could probably do with some splints too once the adrenaline wore off. Who knew if he had any broken bones or not?
Soon, he arrived at the store which was somewhat close to the border between the higher caste's districts and lower Nivenhain. It was a small building of stone brick, complete with barred windows on the front and an intimidating-looking door of wood and metal. It didn't register that none of their lamps were on as he gripped the handle and pulled, only for the door to catch on the lock. It was closed. Of course it was. It was night time in Lower Nivenhain, who wanted to be open at those hours? The obstacle steadily roused his conscious thinking while he stood there with his claws clutching the handle, and his breathing turned ragged. His heartbeat slowed and his eyes watered. The flat of his head pressed to the door, and he sobbed. It was so unfair. Nothing ever went right for him. The ax. The store... Some other things, he was sure.
"Yeesh..." Spoke a voice beside him, "What happened t' you?" It barely registered over his crying that there was someone in his company, but he managed to look through his teary, shot eyes to spy a man dressed in rags, just like he was. Only, this guy was far better dressed, as he had a shirt and pants alike. Arkash didn't dry his tears, but sniffled hard and swallowed some streaks of drool and venom that hung from his lips. "I jus' wanted t' buy some bandage-" "-You got cash?" Interrupted the bearded, dirty man. Arkash's heart sank, and he shifted to hold the broken bag behind him as he nodded. The homeless man spied his movements, then shook his head and lifted a hand "wha- whoa, nah buddy. I ain't gonna rob ya." Arkash didn't trust him. "haha, no sir. No robbin'. I think we can 'elp each other out 'ere, ya know."
"How?" Arkash was stern. Despite his broken state, he had some backbone left to show. "Well, I want int' this 'ere shop too, but I got no tools to do it, see. You got them there claws, which I thinks will work. I teach you to fiddle th' lock open, you buy me sumfin inside. Sound fair?" The Rath stared hard at the man. Was he genuine? Arkash's judgment was poor as he was, but that didn't make him stupid. "It's closed," explained the lizard. "Can't buy fuck all." The homeless human cocked a brow. "Wha-? Sure you can. Jus' leave the dosh on th' counta for the guy when 'e comes in." Was that legal? Arkash didn't know. It almost sounded like something that would be forgiven, but... Then again, what choice did he have? It was that or die to festering wounds, or get mugged by someone for real while he waited for the shop to open. He closed his mouth briefly, then offered a nod of affirmation. "It's a deal then?" The homeless human extended his hand. Arkash spied it for a moment, then accepted it. The feeling of skin had always been uncomfortable to the lizard, and the concept of shaking hands to seal a deal was a weird tradition, but he accepted all the same and shook the beggar's hand.
Finally, Arkash placed his bag against the wall in a way that put him between the beggar and his hard-earned cash and crouched before the lock. He showed his claws to the beggar, who instructed him to use his two index claws. Both fit in the plug of the lock to a certain depth, but the keyhole was almost wide enough for him to reach the other side of the door with the tips. He didn't have much feeling in the keratin that made up his natural weapons, but he could feel the general shape within. "...Rite ...Now what?" he asked with a turn of his head to the beggar. "Can ya find th' pins?" He asked, and crouched beside Arkash. "Pins?" he quizzed in turn. "Yeah, check th' top, should be some pokey-outy bits wiv a li'l give to 'em." The beggar was without a doubt an artist. An artist that painted in common. With something of a sigh, Arkash Checked for the pokey-outy bits with his upper claw, and something moved in the lock. A pause saw him hesitate, and he turned tot he beggar with uncertainty. "Somethin' moved."
Beggarman nodded quickly. "yeah, that's the first pin. You gotta try an'... press on the tumbler." he tapped the circle of the lock that was meant to turn when a key was inserted. "Turn that and hold it tight. Then use yer other claw to push th' pin upward 'til you feel it click." Sounded tricky. But Arkash did as instructed and pulled the tumbler to turn some, and it caught on the pins, as they weren't in position. He held his pull and kept the pressure up while he fiddled with the pin. The surface area was very small. And many attempts saw him slip and release the pin, which left it to spring back into place. It was slow going, but he eventually found the click. "I got it!" Arkash declared in excitement, and the beggar clapped his gloved hands once. "Aye, good going! Just four-ish left!" Arkash paused and turned to face the beggar. "...Four-ish?" The homeless man squinted and tilted his hand from side to side "maybe five if they're fancy." Arkash sighed, for that was going to take all night.
Eventually, all pins pushed into place, and the tumbler turned fully with Arkash's pull. On its own, the door swung open... The beggar again clapped his gloved hands and pulled his tensed arm down as an expression of victory. "You did it! Thank 'Rabe for yer spindly li'l claws, lizard guy." Ark furrowed the brow of his good eye and shrugged. "It's fine, I guess, beggar-man." The human grinned and laughed a breath before he patted Arkash on the back, stood, and walked into the store freely. With something of a concerned eye, Arkash followed the man into the dark store. "Name's Jerry, Jerry 'The Cat'." The Cat? The hell kinda name is that? "Arkash," he offered with a nod. Jerry began looking through the shelves and countertops, while Arkash hesitated. After a brief pause, he followed suit, and eventually found some bandages, a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a wooden pale. As far as splints went, he found some dowels that would work for some time.
"'Ere it is!" Declared Jerry, who lifted a bottle of something in the air. "Medicine for ma'. Yer a lifesaver, Ark. Should be about 200 Farthin's," Jerry also had a sick parent? For a moment or two, the lizard felt a certain kinship between himself and the beggar, but before he could say anything else, jerry was out the door, and Arkash was alone again. Who was that guy? Jerry The Cat, apparently, but... Arkash shook his head and put all the things he needed in the pale along with another bottle of his father's medicine. It was just cough syrup and painkillers, but it worked to relieve his father's pain whereas nothing else did. With everything in the pale, she set it in his bag beside the wad of cash, his savings... A pause saw him consider his actions, and he drew the farthings from his bag while looking at the countertop.
He could leave the cash on the counter to pay for the goods, but it was doubtful he had enough to pay for all that he took anyway. Besides, he needed these things, or he'd die. He was fine with stealing an abandoned ax in the woods, what was the jump from that to a few necessities for his survival? Uncertain, shaky claws put the money back in his broken bag, and he snatched a cloth on the way out of the shop. His tail latched the door handle and pulled the unlocked door closed behind him. He was a thief.
His condition was... Pretty bad, yeah. Through the haze of his concussion, the bleeding, and the white-hot sting that frayed his nerves, he still knew that this was one of the worst beatings he'd endured, probably the worst. But, to determine the level of fucked-up he was, he'd need to be able to think straight, and that wouldn't come around for some time. Like a drunk, the lizard wandered and limped to his home, where he very gently let himself in. His nose had stopped bleeding at that point, but it was clogged with clotted blood and nasal fluid. He breathed through his mouth, which hung open partially as he dragged his sprained ankle through the door, then looked to Cojack. As always, he was asleep. Ark wasted no time, and lowered to squat by the dead hearth, and gripped the loose floorboard with his shot fingers.
A hard yank saw the board come free and exposed the contents within to the cool night air that flowed freely through the house. Cojack still slept- he believed- he couldn't tell. His shaky hand reached into the ground, where he turned the jar of their savings so that the lid faced upward, then gently opened it with both claws and drew a wad of farthing notes from its contents. He wasn't sure how much he'd need to buy rubbing alcohol and bandages, as well as a few splints, but he hoped that was enough. He couldn't count; his vision blurred too harshly. So, he just had to pray that the shop owner would take pity and accept the money even if it wasn't enough. Once he had the cash, he carefully emptied his ruined backpack of all the firewood and tinder, then put the farthing notes inside. Once he was done there, he covered up the board again and left. Despite his wounded stupor, he was sure to close and lock the door behind him for the sake of Cojack.
Then began his long limp to the general store, which he could only pray had what he needed. Some rogue string of memory could recall seeing bandages and alcohol there once upon a time, but again, he was unsure. Nothing was firing right in his mind, his vision still hadn't completely cleared and the sound of his own quickened heartbeat and breathing was almost deafening in his ears. If he'd had any capacity at all to worry, he'd have thought that he was dying. But instead, his instinct of self-preservation had completely taken over. He needed to patch himself up and soon. So, that was all he focussed on. There were very few people on the streets of Lower Nivenhain at this hour, and even fewer seemed interested in being anywhere near the broken lizard. By now, the bleeding had stopped, but his wounds were still fresh and needed cleaning and covering. He could probably do with some splints too once the adrenaline wore off. Who knew if he had any broken bones or not?
Soon, he arrived at the store which was somewhat close to the border between the higher caste's districts and lower Nivenhain. It was a small building of stone brick, complete with barred windows on the front and an intimidating-looking door of wood and metal. It didn't register that none of their lamps were on as he gripped the handle and pulled, only for the door to catch on the lock. It was closed. Of course it was. It was night time in Lower Nivenhain, who wanted to be open at those hours? The obstacle steadily roused his conscious thinking while he stood there with his claws clutching the handle, and his breathing turned ragged. His heartbeat slowed and his eyes watered. The flat of his head pressed to the door, and he sobbed. It was so unfair. Nothing ever went right for him. The ax. The store... Some other things, he was sure.
"Yeesh..." Spoke a voice beside him, "What happened t' you?" It barely registered over his crying that there was someone in his company, but he managed to look through his teary, shot eyes to spy a man dressed in rags, just like he was. Only, this guy was far better dressed, as he had a shirt and pants alike. Arkash didn't dry his tears, but sniffled hard and swallowed some streaks of drool and venom that hung from his lips. "I jus' wanted t' buy some bandage-" "-You got cash?" Interrupted the bearded, dirty man. Arkash's heart sank, and he shifted to hold the broken bag behind him as he nodded. The homeless man spied his movements, then shook his head and lifted a hand "wha- whoa, nah buddy. I ain't gonna rob ya." Arkash didn't trust him. "haha, no sir. No robbin'. I think we can 'elp each other out 'ere, ya know."
"How?" Arkash was stern. Despite his broken state, he had some backbone left to show. "Well, I want int' this 'ere shop too, but I got no tools to do it, see. You got them there claws, which I thinks will work. I teach you to fiddle th' lock open, you buy me sumfin inside. Sound fair?" The Rath stared hard at the man. Was he genuine? Arkash's judgment was poor as he was, but that didn't make him stupid. "It's closed," explained the lizard. "Can't buy fuck all." The homeless human cocked a brow. "Wha-? Sure you can. Jus' leave the dosh on th' counta for the guy when 'e comes in." Was that legal? Arkash didn't know. It almost sounded like something that would be forgiven, but... Then again, what choice did he have? It was that or die to festering wounds, or get mugged by someone for real while he waited for the shop to open. He closed his mouth briefly, then offered a nod of affirmation. "It's a deal then?" The homeless human extended his hand. Arkash spied it for a moment, then accepted it. The feeling of skin had always been uncomfortable to the lizard, and the concept of shaking hands to seal a deal was a weird tradition, but he accepted all the same and shook the beggar's hand.
Finally, Arkash placed his bag against the wall in a way that put him between the beggar and his hard-earned cash and crouched before the lock. He showed his claws to the beggar, who instructed him to use his two index claws. Both fit in the plug of the lock to a certain depth, but the keyhole was almost wide enough for him to reach the other side of the door with the tips. He didn't have much feeling in the keratin that made up his natural weapons, but he could feel the general shape within. "...Rite ...Now what?" he asked with a turn of his head to the beggar. "Can ya find th' pins?" He asked, and crouched beside Arkash. "Pins?" he quizzed in turn. "Yeah, check th' top, should be some pokey-outy bits wiv a li'l give to 'em." The beggar was without a doubt an artist. An artist that painted in common. With something of a sigh, Arkash Checked for the pokey-outy bits with his upper claw, and something moved in the lock. A pause saw him hesitate, and he turned tot he beggar with uncertainty. "Somethin' moved."
Beggarman nodded quickly. "yeah, that's the first pin. You gotta try an'... press on the tumbler." he tapped the circle of the lock that was meant to turn when a key was inserted. "Turn that and hold it tight. Then use yer other claw to push th' pin upward 'til you feel it click." Sounded tricky. But Arkash did as instructed and pulled the tumbler to turn some, and it caught on the pins, as they weren't in position. He held his pull and kept the pressure up while he fiddled with the pin. The surface area was very small. And many attempts saw him slip and release the pin, which left it to spring back into place. It was slow going, but he eventually found the click. "I got it!" Arkash declared in excitement, and the beggar clapped his gloved hands once. "Aye, good going! Just four-ish left!" Arkash paused and turned to face the beggar. "...Four-ish?" The homeless man squinted and tilted his hand from side to side "maybe five if they're fancy." Arkash sighed, for that was going to take all night.
Eventually, all pins pushed into place, and the tumbler turned fully with Arkash's pull. On its own, the door swung open... The beggar again clapped his gloved hands and pulled his tensed arm down as an expression of victory. "You did it! Thank 'Rabe for yer spindly li'l claws, lizard guy." Ark furrowed the brow of his good eye and shrugged. "It's fine, I guess, beggar-man." The human grinned and laughed a breath before he patted Arkash on the back, stood, and walked into the store freely. With something of a concerned eye, Arkash followed the man into the dark store. "Name's Jerry, Jerry 'The Cat'." The Cat? The hell kinda name is that? "Arkash," he offered with a nod. Jerry began looking through the shelves and countertops, while Arkash hesitated. After a brief pause, he followed suit, and eventually found some bandages, a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a wooden pale. As far as splints went, he found some dowels that would work for some time.
"'Ere it is!" Declared Jerry, who lifted a bottle of something in the air. "Medicine for ma'. Yer a lifesaver, Ark. Should be about 200 Farthin's," Jerry also had a sick parent? For a moment or two, the lizard felt a certain kinship between himself and the beggar, but before he could say anything else, jerry was out the door, and Arkash was alone again. Who was that guy? Jerry The Cat, apparently, but... Arkash shook his head and put all the things he needed in the pale along with another bottle of his father's medicine. It was just cough syrup and painkillers, but it worked to relieve his father's pain whereas nothing else did. With everything in the pale, she set it in his bag beside the wad of cash, his savings... A pause saw him consider his actions, and he drew the farthings from his bag while looking at the countertop.
He could leave the cash on the counter to pay for the goods, but it was doubtful he had enough to pay for all that he took anyway. Besides, he needed these things, or he'd die. He was fine with stealing an abandoned ax in the woods, what was the jump from that to a few necessities for his survival? Uncertain, shaky claws put the money back in his broken bag, and he snatched a cloth on the way out of the shop. His tail latched the door handle and pulled the unlocked door closed behind him. He was a thief.
