dog days are o v e r ||ISBEL||

[sven]

As far as living on the streets went, Sven supposed today had been a fairly good day.

One thing he could say for the way the last fifty years of his life had gone was that it at least made it easier for him to appreciate every little thing that went right. A lot of people who had to live out on the streets would probably spend their time feeling sorry for themselves. There were definitely a lot more comfortable ways to live. Not having a roof over one’s head could be rough; being out in the cold in the winter had been especially hard for someone who liked warmth as much as Sven did.

And, to be honest, it likely wouldn’t have been that hard for Sven to find a new person to take him in. He wasn’t even particularly fond of being out on his own; he shared the genes programmed into many Jasts that made them crave company. If he was honest with himself, he even preferred it when someone was telling him what to do. He didn’t know what to do with himself when he was out on his own. He felt directionless, just kind of wandering through life without any idea of what he was trying to do. And he wasn’t the ‘cutest’ Jast, but he was far from ugly, and he had artistic skills that would make him more valuable to a potential owner than your average Jast. All in all, it would be fairly easy to find an owner willing to take him in.

But despite all that, Sven didn’t want to go back to that life. He’d been thoroughly disillusioned about the luxuries of being taken care of by an owner. It had been nice for a little while, but then… well, suffice to say things had taken a turn for the worse. He’d finally managed to get away onto the streets, and he wasn’t about to go back. His most recent master wouldn’t be able to get his hands on him again, but he didn’t want anyone similar to have control of him, either. So, discomforts aside, Sven had decided to remain on the street.

The day hadn’t exactly started out too great; he’d been woken up by a couple of Navy guys. The Navy patrols in the mornings apparently had orders to wake up any homeless people sleeping out in the open. Probably for appearance’s sake, as far as Sven could tell. At least the men had been fairly polite. Rather than dumping Sven violently off the bench he’d been sleeping on (which had happened more than once in the past few months), he’d been shaken awake and one of the officers had left half a doughnut he didn’t feel like finishing. It had taken the edge off of Sven’s hunger, plus he didn’t have any new bruises to deal with. Compared to the way most of the Navy patrols treated him, it was a pretty good start to the day.

It was nice and warm out, too. Sven, like most of the cats he shared his DNA with, liked to stretch out in sunny places and relax for a bit. So, after a bit of wandering about and scrounging for a bit more food (he’d stopped to draw for a bit and gotten a sandwich in return for a quick portrait of someone walking past), he’d headed over to a park and found a nice spot in the grass to stretch out. He’d curled up in the sunniest spot he could find, and it hadn’t been long at all until he dozed off.

The grass was warm and soft beneath him. It wasn’t until the sun had moved enough in the sky for a nearby tree to throw a cool shadow over him that Sven stirred. He let out a quiet, sleepy groan and stretched out again, digging his fingers into the grass as several spots in his back let out loud cracks. He opened one eye long enough to figure out where the sun had gone, rolled back into the sunlight, and closed his eyes again with a sigh of contentment.

But then, his ears pricked at the sound of soft footsteps approaching in the grass. Sven pushed himself up on his arms, opening his eyes, and looked around for the source. He could hope it was just someone passing by, but he couldn’t help the nervousness on his face. He’d been hurt a few too many times to assume the best.

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Tagged: Isbel~
Words: 754 $$ added

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[isbel]

For most part of the day, the green haired fairy had been spending it hunting to eventually sell it at the black market to the butchers and what not. They liked what she was bringing them and she loved hunting, it was what kept her alive in a way. Being close to the nature had always given her the feeling of being free and now that she was living in the forest, far away from her previous slave masters she couldn’t be any happier. The only person she had to worry about was herself and she liked it that way. People were most of the time, bad company and while she was known as a thief, things would get rather spicy if they were to find out. They wouldn’t trust her and honestly, she never really trust people ever since the episode of her life when she was forced to do things against her wills.

Not to add that the hunt had been quite good as well. She had to stay onto her guard whoever when going into Billet Doux- it was a town full of navy and sometimes, they were looking for a thief (which was not her, she was really discrete). When it was the case, she always was worried it might be her, but it ended up not being the case, someone else being caught instead. It was exactly what happened at the right moment. Guards, she never knew when they were targeting her or someone else so when they were in what it seemed a searching mode, she tried to jump on the buildings’ roofs and hide as much as possible into the dark places until she ended up into the park.

From there, she hid for a good time, barely noticing that someone was napping around, in the trees, making sure her skin was as brown as these, sitting onto a branch. It was quite uncomfortable to say the least, but she could live with it. She didn’t want the navy men to steal her money, not when she hadn’t stolen it! They went through the park and she waited for a good hour until she thought that the area was safe. She gracefully jumped off the branch and landed near someone who appeared to be napping into the sun ray.

How strange she thought staring at the boy once she was onto the ground. She did notice him a few minutes ago but didn’t really pay much attention. She paused wondering about what could make him want to sleep in there. She was curious, but at the same time, she wanted to go back to the forest, and into her home she had built into trees. After a few moments of mental debates, she finally decided she’d approach him, but would stay on her guard. She still had her dagger with her anyways if it was to become a bad situation.

She never tried lying onto the ground but she didn’t take the risk to sit next to him, even if that sounded appealing. She wasn’t stupid and the navy might still be around. She gave a glance behind her shoulder and once she was sure they wouldn’t come back any time soon she returned her attention to him. “...is it comfortable?”

$$ added

[sven]

It didn’t take long for Sven to see the source of the noise; a green haired girl was standing not far from him on the grass. He wasn’t sure how she’d gotten so close without him hearing her earlier; even when he was sleeping or dozing, his hearing was much better than that of a normal human’s, and his subconscious was constantly on the alert for anybody who might be a threat to him. Normally, if anyone stepped even within twenty feet of him, he’d immediately be aware of them. That was the main reason it was difficult for him to sleep on the streets at night; with all of the footsteps and noises nearby, he constantly had to wake up and see if anything was threatening him.

The girl seemed to be looking for something else at the moment, so Sven took the opportunity to study her. His first thought was that she was pretty, but he’d learned a long time ago that that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be a threat to him. He kept looking, eyes searching for a weapon or anything that might indicate she meant him harm. He found nothing, which helped him relax a little bit, but he was still cautious of her. He still wanted to know how she’d gotten so close without him hearing, and he knew that just because he didn’t see a weapon didn’t mean she didn’t have one. Besides, most people didn’t necessarily need a weapon to inflict pain. A lot of people had magic powers that could do that just as well, and if all else failed, they could do plenty of damage with punches and kicks.

Sven stretched again, fingers kneading slightly into the soft grass, and shifted slightly as he did so so it would be easier to jump up and run if he had to. However, for the moment, he didn’t. For all that he was scared of almost everyone he met nowadays, it didn’t mean Sven thought everybody was going to hurt him. He still met plenty of nice or at least pleasant people on a day to day basis. It was just that he wanted to be prepared, in case they did mean him harm. He’d been caught by surprise a couple of times before, thinking that someone who looked nice couldn’t possibly want to hurt him. He’d quickly learned the error of thinking like that.

He didn’t quite flinch as the girl turned and looked at him, looking back at her quietly with his ears flattened to the sides nervously. The look on her face reassured him slightly, though. It wasn’t aggressive, or even annoyed. Instead, it was a sort of curious look, as if she’d never seen somebody napping on the ground before. He supposed it might look weird to be sprawled out in the grass rather than on a blanket or something, but he’d never really given it much thought. The grass was nice and soft, and he didn’t exactly have a blanket to lie on.

He tensed slightly as she approached, but her expression hadn’t changed, so he didn’t run. He watched quietly as she glanced around, wondering whether she was looking for someone or looking to keep away from someone. He suspected the latter, based on the way she was looking. Who, though? Was it the Navy? Was she a criminal? Sven’s head tilted slightly to the side, a curious expression of his own coming onto his face.

Then, she spoke. He blinked at her for a moment. It was an innocuous enough question. Didn’t sound like it was leading up to violence. So, Sven gave her a slight, shy smile, propping his arms up a little more so he could look at her more comfortably. His ears perked up a bit, as he was reassured by the question. ”Mhm, it is,” he told her with a slight nod, kneading the grass a bit more with his fingers. ”It’s soft, and the sun is nice and warm today.”

---

Tagged: Isbel~
Words: 669 $$ added

[/blockquote]

[isbel]

Isbel wouldn’t be mad at the boy who seemed to be rather suspicious of her. You could never know who you were talking to at Billet Doux; there were many anonymous pirates around, believe it or not, but there still had a lot of criminals who were hanging out around this town despite the fact that it was crowded by navy. Take her for an example. Though she didn’t consider herself as a criminal, she just lived to survive and she knew that she could actually take a job and make money out of this but she never trusted people. Not anymore; what on earth could they make her do if she was to ever find a job? She was better on her own with no one to take care of but herself, that way, she knew that she wouldn’t hurt other people and she knew that she’d only have herself to count on which was much better in her opinion.

You see, Isbel wasn’t one who knew how to take care of others, first of, she didn’t trust them, which didn’t help into the process of taking care of someone, then, she had always been on her own and always lacked of sociable skills in a way so it didn’t help the matters either. Though she decided she would try having a little conversation while she had the time to breathe without seeing the navy anywhere. They’d get tired quickly to look for her- she wasn’t a dangerous criminal she just stole a few things here and there but nothing big. She never killed people which she thought was a much more dangerous crime than stealing, in her opinion that is.

She started thinking that it might just be useless to chat with the boy but she had a feeling that he was homeless; was it the fact that he was lying onto the ground since a long time that gave it away? Perhaps, or maybe he just wanted to find a nice place at the park to hide but the entire time she had hidden herself nearby she saw him, sleeping in the sun ray. He didn’t look like any normal human at that but then, that’s when she remembered of the race that would replace slaves like her. Paperjasts. If her guess was right, that’s what he was and really, the last thing she wanted to see happening to him was to end up as a pet or worse a slave. Why would people create other creatures to serve them? It was an absurd concept demons had invented. She was mad at them for doing such an horrible thing but then again, demons were known to be horrible weren’t they?

She stared at the grass once more before taking the opportunity to sit down a little and feel the grass. He was right, it was quite comfortable she had to admit. She played with it slightly with her fingers for a few moments before looking at him. She made sure not to sit too close to him noticing that he didn’t seem quite comfortable with around but she would understand; she wasn’t either.

“I’m Isbel...” she said deciding to present herself, but didn’t look at him. One question had been playing onto her lips for quite some time now and she couldn’t resist but ask. “Are you a Paperjast?” Yes, she thought it was what they had called them. Really, next time she’d see a demon, she wouldn’t feel sorry to kill them off.

$$ added

[sven]

It struck Sven as a little bit funny how seriously the girl seemed to be taking the whole question. As though whether or not the grass was a comfortable place to sleep was a genuinely perplexing question to her. Most people probably would have just assumed he was homeless (which was true) and moved on, but she seemed genuinely curious about it. It was kind of endearing, to tell the truth, and despite himself Sven relaxed a little bit more. He was cautious of people, true, but he tried not to go about life being scared of everyone for no reason. Just… within reason.

Sven’s tail brushed across the grass absently, the tip flicking from side to side as though it had a life of its own. He barely noticed it, curling his fingers further into the soft grass. Watching the girl, he saw her eyes flicker to the tail and the ears currently poking up out of his hair. His tail stilled for a moment, as that part of Sven that was scared of everyone insisted she just hadn’t noticed that he was a Paperjast before then, and now she surely meant to do him harm. Sven tamped that part of himself down resolutely, though his ears flattened out to the side slightly in apprehension. There was a fine line between being careful and being scared, and he tried his best to stay on the former side.

He was reassured when he didn’t see metaphorical dollar signs pop up in her eyes, just more of the same mild curiosity she’d been showing all along. He’d run into a fair number of people in the past who were just honestly curious about Jasts, since they weren’t all that common. He tried to answer them as best he could when they had questions, though he didn’t like to talk about his past and he didn’t know all that much about the origins of his race, apart from that they were made in labs. The only question he really minded, though, was when people asked to touch his tail or ears. He could understand it, he supposed, but he really didn’t like being touched by people he didn’t know. And as much as he didn’t like saying no to people, he generally did in those cases. Unless it was a little kid; Sven hated to see the look of disappointment on a child’s face, so he would make exceptions for them.

Sven watched the girl as she sat down in the grass near him. She didn’t seem inclined to invade his personal space, which he was grateful for. She started playing with the grass in her hands, so Sven took the opportunity to stretch, arching his back and digging his fingers into the ground. It was a distinctly catlike motion, looking slightly odd with his mostly-human form, not that Sven particularly cared. He held it for a moment, then flopped back to the ground with a soft noise of contentment. Nothing like a good stretch after a nice nap.

He blinked as she spoke, introducing herself as Isbel. ”That’s a nice name,” he said, with a slight shy smile. ”My name’s Sven.” The following question didn’t surprise him, since she’d been looking so curiously at his ears and tail a moment before. He still hesitated, however, before giving a small nod. ”Mhm, I am.” His ears flickered for a moment as he wondered what she was. He supposed it didn’t really matter, but he was curious. And since she’d asked, it wouldn’t be that rude to ask back, right? ”What about you?”

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Tagged: Isbel~
Words: 601 $$ added

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[isbel]

Isbel continued to feel the grass beneath her hands while she waited for Sven to reply to her questions. From time to time she would glance behind her shoulders to make sure that the navy didn’t decide to return to the park in case she would be there; so far she had been quite lucky in the matters and she was happy about it. She knew that she was classified as a criminal but she still enjoyed the life she was having and thus even if she was living in a tree and sometimes she had to rebuild her house when storms got really bad. It only happened once thought but she was making sure not to live the unfortunate event again especially considering it wasn’t comfortable at all to sleep in the streets, on the grass or on benches at the park. She was feeling sorry for the paperjast in a way now that she thought about it, sleeping like this on the grass even though it was soft and the sun was warm it was still the ground.

She was even surprising herself while thinking such things considering that most of the time she was one to worry about herself and her problems, not about other people. She grew to trust no one but herself and to push away everyone not trusting anyone. Her concern towards the Paperjast must only be from the fact that she knew how it felt to be a slave even if she managed to get away. From what she could see he didn’t seem like being in too much of a bad shape, which reassured her in a way. She hated seeing people getting beaten or not treated well. It infuriated her.

She blinked however when he complimented her name. Isbel, a nice name? It was actually the first time someone complimented her, then again, it was the first time she was telling her name to someone who wasn’t a kid. She assumed that not everyone would judge her from being somewhat distant though she was making great efforts there to try and see if she could socialize with someone. She assumed that the strange person sleeping on the grass would help her dealing with it.

She nodded when he introduced himself as Sven. Not a bad name at all, at least his master seemed to have given him a decent name. Not everyone was as lucky as he was, that’s for sure, or at least, when it came to names matters.

When he questioned her about her race she opened her wings to let him show a fragile but beautiful pair of transparent light green wings that looks like a pair of butterfly wings. She didn’t like to show them off though thinking that fairies were most of the time underestimated or considered as a bunch of happy people and would most of the time bug her with questions about why she was always so straight and serious. They didn’t know what she had gone through. “I’m a fairy.” She said before hiding her wings back not licking to have attention drawn to her, especially not when she was wanted by the navy. She looked up at him once again. Curious, where was his master? “Don’t you have a master?” She asked wanting to make sure he truly was sleeping there because he was homeless and not because he had a day off or anything. It was only when she asked it that she thought her question might sound rude. “Uh...Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude...” she added quickly as she started playing with her hair nervously and somewhat awkwardly.

$$ added

[sven]

Isbel seemed nervous, Sven noticed. She kept looking back over her shoulder, around the park. Judging by the way she did so, it wasn’t that she was waiting for or meeting someone; it was that she was trying to avoid someone. Being in that position a lot himself, Sven recognized the look. He wondered who it was she was hiding from. Chances were, it was the Navy. Most people weren’t like Sven, who tended to hide from just about anybody who looked like they were taking too much of an interest in him (Paperjast hunters came in all shapes and sizes, after all, and it never hurt to be careful). He wondered what she might have done that she would be wanted by the Navy. She didn’t seem violent or anything, and he had a hard time believing a hardened criminal would sit on the grass in a park and talk to a Paperjast.

Sven scratched absently at the bandages wrapped around the scars on his neck. They tended to itch more often than his other ones; he wasn’t sure if it was because he kept them covered so much or because they were some of the worst on his entire body. He knew that having the bandages there made it painfully obvious that he didn’t have a collar, which attracted attention from people who thought Paperjasts had to be somebody’s pet or slave, but if he bared the scars they would stare even more. It was the lesser of two evils, as far as he was concerned, and he’d rather be asked questions about why he didn’t have a collar than think about why he had to cover his neck.

His eyes got big and round, his ears perking up in fascination as Isbel unfolded a pair of beautiful, transparent green wings from behind her back. They shone slightly in the sunlight. Sven had met a few fairies in the past, but he’d never seen one’s wings. They were beautiful; he could see why people in books used words like ‘gossamer’ and ‘ephemeral’ to describe them. He was almost disappointed when she folded them away again, though he gave a little nod at her statement, even though it had been fairly obvious as soon as she showed her wings. He wondered if they were easily damaged; probably so, considering how thin they must be. Could she fly? He thought about asking, but he didn’t want to be rude and offend her. It had been a while since he’d gotten to talk to anybody.

A shudder went through his body at her next question, his tail puffing out slightly and his ears flattening against the sides of his head. Even just the mention of the word was enough to start bringing up memories. Unpleasant, violent memories, that Sven would have just as soon forgotten. But he couldn’t. It was sometimes a blessing, but mostly a curse that he could remember everything that had ever happened to him in excruciating detail, down to the last blow or kick that had been dealt to him on any day of his life.

Sven struggled to keep the memory from coming up, clenching his fingers in the grass. A cold sweat broke out on his body, the hair on the back of his neck standing up slightly. But, after a moment, Sven managed to push it back down, using the feel and smell of the grass to keep himself rooted in the present. He took a deep, shaky breath. Then, finally, he answered, ”No, I don’t,” in as firm a voice as he could muster (not very). ”And I never want to again.”

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Tagged: Isbel~
Words: 609 $$ added

[/blockquote]

[isbel]

Isbel wasn’t like most fairies though or any winged creature; her wings didn’t allow her to fly but she could jump higher, much higher than an average person. She had to presume it was why fairies didn’t keep her with them, letting her there on her own to end up into slavery before being able to free herself from the hell it gave her. She didn’t need them to jump but it helped with the landing; making it less rough than it would have been without them. It was why most of the time she didn’t show her wings, first they were quite fragile and could easily be damaged and second, they were more troublesome than anything when she was not using them. At least, to her point of view. She was only releasing them when she was in her home, sleeping.

She noticed the few scars that Sven had, or at least seemed to be scratching and frowned slightly as she wondered about what they could have done to him. People could be quite horrible at times and she knew it; she even had a taste of it too. She was just able to hide them more than the poor jast seemed to be able to do. Part of her wanted to help him, but another part told her to let him be and that he’d probably refuse any offer from her at this rate. It wasn’t as if she minded though; she was better on her own, without taking care of anyone else but herself so she decided to focus back on the soft green grass when she could.

She observed him when she questioned him about his owner, or master, how however you called these people nowadays and waited for an answer. She wasn’t sure about what to expect; she didn’t know him much maybe he was feeling lonely or maybe, it was the complete opposite; he was feeling free, just like her, able to do whatever he wanted without having to serve anyone but himself. She secretly hoped it was the case for him; people owning Jasts for pets and slavery infuriated her to the most anyways.

His words only confirmed her suppositions and she was glad that he wouldn’t want another master. She wanted to see the freedom of Paperjast; no one deserved to serve people against their wills, even if they were created for that. Though, that was only when another truth came to her face. The wounds he seemed to have, she hoped they didn’t come from his previous master(s), especially considering the voice tone he was using.

Her head gestured to his wounds. “Did they do that to you? Your previous owners?” she asked him softly, not wanting to scare him away with such questions. She then looked back up at the sky. “I’ve been in that position too.” She finally said thinking that it could get him to trust her more if she said so.

[sven]

Despite what he had been through, there was, in fact, a small part of Sven that wanted to go back to his old life. He was a Paperjast, designed to crave contact and a bond with another person. Being on his own as he had for the past few months was hard, and it was lonely. A part of him wanted to go back to being able to depend on someone, to be taken care of like he had once been when he was much younger.

But the rest of him knew better. It wasn’t worth the risk of putting himself at someone’s mercy like that again, no matter how much more comfortable it might seem. He didn’t want anything to do with collars and the like anymore; even thinking about it was enough to make his stomach twist and unpleasant memories stir in the back of his mind. It was true that life out on the street was rough, and he had to go hungry sometimes, but it was a small price to pay. At least out here he had a chance of being able to run away, or even find help, if someone started to hurt him. That wasn’t the case when he belonged to someone.

He flinched slightly at the sound of Isbel’s voice, nerves wound tight by his struggle with his memories. His ears flattened even more at the question, the thought bringing more echoes of the past to the forefront. It wasn’t any specific memory this time, but just quick flashes, impressions of being hit or cut. The worst of them was still the scars on his neck; those had taken a very long time to do. Intricate designs, done slowly and carefully while Sven writhed and pleaded for the pain to stop. Phantom pain etched itself along the lines of the scars, still hidden under the bandages. They felt hot, uncomfortably so, but Sven resisted the urge to pull the bandages off with effort. He didn’t want anybody to see the thorny vines and words that had been carved into the skin of his neck. Isbel would almost certainly ask about it, and if he thought about it too hard, he’d fall back into memory, and Sven in no way wanted to relive that awful day.

At her admission that she had been in the same position, Sven looked over at her, startled. He hadn’t known anyone besides Paperjasts were enslaved anymore. He was pretty sure it was illegal, not that he supposed that would help all that much. The Navy seemed to be more interested in him stealing a sandwich or two than stopping bigger criminals.

Sven eyed Isbel for a moment, searching for any signs that she might be lying, to try and trick him into relaxing around her, but he didn’t find anything. She just seemed sad, which made sense all things considered. She wasn’t looking at him, though; he got the sense this wasn’t something she went around advertising to everyone. The Paperjast sat up slowly, tucking his long legs into a pretzel shape in front of him. His tail flicked around behind him for a moment, then curled around the side of his leg and stilled. ”Yes,” he finally answered her, giving a very slight nod, his eyes fixed on the grass in front of him. He pushed one of his long sleeves up for a moment, looking at the scars that crisscrossed it, particularly the largest, nastiest one that wrapped around his wrist (he had a matching one on the other side). Then, he shuddered and pulled his sleeve back down to hide his scars. ”That’s why I ran away."

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Tagged: Isbel~
Words: 612 $$ added

[/blockquote]

[isbel]

Isbel stared at Sven who seemed to be lost into his thoughts and staring at her. She presumed that he didn’t know what kind of treatment she had dealt with. Some days she would not be fed for a week or others she would get whipped on the back. But her wounds were only there, the rest was safe if you forgot about her psychology. She kept having nightmares and even trashed around when she was having these at nights from what happened the time she was held back as a slave. Luckily, she had managed to be free. For a moment she thought he seemed not to believe her and she couldn’t blame him; she looked perfectly normal if you forgot about the fact that she kept most of the time a straight expression not letting anyone see through her and her clothes were enough to hide her scars.

“My back, that’s where they hit.” She told him though she wasn’t about to show him her wounds. People in the park didn’t need to know that side of her…or her in general. She was wanted by the navy for stealing, which was absurd in her eyes considering that there were criminals who were much more horrible than her. She, unlike them fought to survive. She didn’t do anything to harm someone so far if it was not for her protection so what was the problem with her being around? Not to add that she was living in the woods. She wasn’t causing trouble to anyone! She sighed softly at the thought that started to annoy her slightly.

She nodded at him when he answered to her. “I ran away too, we’re better off on our own.” She said, speaking up her thoughts. She listened to what was going on around in the meanwhile, hearing footsteps, children playing, parents chatting, more footsteps. She arched an eyebrow and turned around noticing a group of navy men that were coming their way. Shit. She thought before standing up quickly. She hoped they didn’t see them. Considering that Sven was in the streets too she figured they might be looking for him too. She just needed to look like normal people. She grabbed his hand forcing him to stand up. “The navy.” She said and without a word she began walking in the opposite direction as the men. She didn’t want to fight and Sven didn’t deserve to be left alone out there. He could get beaten and she didn’t want him to die. No one deserved that except maybe criminals.

“Come…” She said not paying attention much to his reaction. She just wanted to keep him safe. “I’ll show you a safe place.” That was when she decided that she would show him where she lived. That way, if he was in trouble, he could always go and stay at her home for a while, as long as he wasn’t going to tell where she stayed at to the world she was fine with having some company. Her days would be less lonely.

[sven]

Sven’s neck itched incessantly, a phantom sensation brought on, as it always was, by thinking about what he had been through. He scratched at it absently, fingers dragging across the bandages with just enough pressure to relieve the itch slightly without pulling the bandages aside. He didn’t want to have to explain the designs carved into his skin. Not in public, especially. Those scars weren’t like the others. The others came from blows or a whip, where the scars were just a side effect. The ones on his neck had been created slowly, the point being to create as much pain as possible. He shuddered and blinked, shoving that thought firmly away before he could slip back into that horrible memory again.

He glanced up from where his eyes had been fixed on the grass as Isbel spoke again, telling him of her own scars. Sven’s ears flicked back in sympathy as he gave a slight nod. ”They do like to hit there…” He had his own collection of scars on his back, though he usually avoided anything that might result in so ‘official’ a punishment as whipping. For some reason, his owners apparently found it harder to justify that than just a kick or a punch. Still, it had happened on occasion…

Rain dripped down Sven’s face, his soaked hair plastered to the back of his head and neck. He shivered in the cold, pressing his forehead against the equally soaked wooden post in front of his face. He didn’t bother to struggle against the ropes binding his wrists to a crossbeam fixed to the post above his head; he knew better than to think he would be able to get away, and even if he did, they would just hit him more for it later. Better to just stay still and quiet and hope it would be over soon.

Even so, he couldn’t help but cry out as the first strike left a stripe of stinging fire across his back, the crack echoing in his ears. His back arched with the pain, involuntarily pulling at his bonds. Another stroke fell, and—

The sound of Isbel’s voice once again cut through Sven’s memory, yanking him back to the present. He was shaking with the reaction, cold sweat dripping down the back of his neck, but he swallowed and pushed through the cold fear around his heart. He wasn’t there anymore. No one was going to hit him like that now that he was away from that place. He nodded slightly in agreement with Isbel’s words, not trusting his voice to stay steady at the moment.

She had been so reserved thus far that it caught Sven by surprise when Isbel reached out and grabbed his hand. Too surprised to resist (his natural inclination was to do what others told him, regardless of how long he had known them), Sven followed the tug of her hand and got to his feet, bits of grass he had plucked falling off his pants as he stood. As Isbel started to walk, pulling him along with her, the Paperjast finally registered what was happening. He glanced over his shoulder nervously at the Navy men; he was no criminal, since rummaging food from dumpsters wasn’t really considered stealing, but he still avoided the Navy when possible. They asked all kinds of uncomfortable questions about a lone Paperjast, and as a runaway Sven had no paperwork to prove he should be free. He might very well get dragged back to his last owner, and he didn’t want that.

Plus, the prospect of a safe place appealed to him. He had been without any concrete place to hide for a long time. He was surprised that Isbel, clearly so cautious, would offer a safe place of hers to a relative stranger, but he wouldn’t question it. He just followed quietly, leaving his hand in her grip rather than pull it away from her. As unusual as contact was, it was kind of nice. The first sign of connection he’d had in a long time.

---

Tagged: Isbel~
Words: 679

[/blockquote]

[isbel]

Isbel dragged Sven out of the park, making sure that she would be unnoticed by the navy men. She didn’t want to be into the middle of a fight with these men. They were annoying, constantly after people like her, thieves. Even if she considered herself as one, she didn’t think that she was worth to be captured unlike many more criminals who killed and stole a lot more things than her. She just did that to survive and also, she did that because she didn’t think that she would actually make a good employee considering that she had a short temper and wasn’t afraid to tell them to go off no matter how reserved she might look like at first.

Besides, she was probably into the wanted posters now, even if her crimes were minors, she was probably lucky to have a small bounty onto her head. It must be why people didn’t bother to look after her. She tightened her grip onto Sven’s hand in her way outside the park. Luckily, no one seemed to have noticed them as she walked in a fast, but normal looking paste, as if they were late for something. She knew that her green hair was easy to notice but it was worth the shot and seeing that it was working quite well, she sighed of relief, but was still holding Sven’s hand making sure he wouldn’t get lost into the middle of the crowd, knowing the town; it was bound to happen if you weren’t careful enough. She knew it- it was the best way for her to steal things from people if she ever wanted to do so.

She didn’t speak much while she was heading out of the town. She was still cautious that navy men could perhaps chase them while she’d go to her secret hiding. She listened to people chatting with one and another, laughs, kids playing, there were life in the town either it was during the night or day time. Once they were outside the town, she released his hand and still lead the way to the forest, going a little deeper until she found her tree, a large enough one to hold a house into the tree, which really, there was, but at first, you wouldn’t notice it considering how well hidden it looked like up there, with the leaves. It took her days and months to build that with her hands, but it was worth it and she even managed to make something comfortable out of it. “Are you comfortable climbing trees?” She asked him. She could easily get up there, by jumping but she wasn’t sure with Sven. If not, she had made steps but in a specific angle that people wouldn’t know at first glance.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to drag you by force…” she added while scratching the back of her head, embarrassed a little. She didn’t know about how he would react to her sudden gesture. She knew that she wasn’t one of the most talkative girls, going only with what she had to say and not going into details but she assumed that he was worth efforts. She didn’t want a pet, but a companion would be nice to talk to from time to time, when she would feel lonely and insecure…

[sven]

Sven was tempted to ask where they were going as Isbel led him out of the park into the streets of the town, but he didn’t. In his experience, asking too many questions tended to have rather negative results. Sometimes it had even resulted in a beating, more often in just a single kick or a shove, and only rarely with an actual answer. Better to just wonder privately and not risk it. Besides, even though he was somewhat convinced that Isbel wouldn’t react violently in any way, he had noticed that she was a pretty private person. He didn’t want to push for information that might make her uncomfortable, particularly if it might make her reconsider showing him her safe place.

So he just followed after her quietly, letting her pull him along by her grip on his hand. He moved a bit closer to her as the streets became crowded, using the connection as an excuse to nudge past people where he would usually duck out of the way. His usual choice would have been to find a way to avoid the crowd, go a more roundabout route rather than get caught in the press of people. He didn’t like having to bump into people so much; it made him rather nervous.

In the worst of the crowd, with the sounds of chatter and laughing children all around, Sven began to get disoriented. His cat DNA gave him better senses than a normal human would have, and all the noises and smells were overwhelming to him. He wasn’t very good at filtering them out. His head started to hurt as the noise assaulted him from all sides, a bit of dizziness making his steps falter, but he pressed on, following the hand holding his. The better he kept up, the sooner he would be out of the overwhelming press of people.

Sure enough, soon they reached the edge of the town, the noise and crowds left behind them. Sven’s headache faded slowly, his senses no longer so overloaded with stimuli. Isbel finally let go of his hand as they walked out of the town towards the trees. Sven’s ears swiveled back slightly in apprehension (he couldn’t help but worry about all the nasty things lurking in the woods), but he continued after Isbel despite it. He hadn’t expected them to leave the town, but he supposed it made sense. There might be some nasty things in the woods, but there were also less people, and it was probably easier to avoid aggressive creatures like bears and such than avoiding people.

He stopped when Isbel did, looking at the tree in front of them. His ears swiveled forward again in cautious curiosity. It looked like any other tree, but apparently there was something special about it. He blinked and looked at Isbel as she spoke, giving a slight nod in answer to her question. ”I can climb…” He had plenty of experience climbing up trees and the like in town to hide from people who were giving him a hard time.

Sven managed a very faint smile at her apology, shaking his head slightly. ”It’s okay.” He didn’t mind, really. It hadn’t hurt, after all.

---

Tagged: Isbel~
Words: 536

[/blockquote]

[isbel]

Isbel eyed Sven as she had stopped in front of that one tree where she had her hideout; she didn’t know how he would react to this but so far, he seemed inclined to the idea of having a home. She didn’t care about if he was a paperjast, and she didn’t want him to be her pet but having some company into these lonely days was something she wouldn’t spit on at all. Even if she wasn’t the most talkative type of person, she still enjoyed to have the presence of another person around. She might not show it but she did and looking at Sven, he didn’t have a joyful past either as well as from what she had heard too. She didn’t know what he had gone through but she could understand why he wouldn’t want to go back to the status of a pet and she would understand that. She had been a slave back then after all and she understood how it was to be under someone’s orders. He seemed to have had it rough too. Part of her wanted to make sure he was alright- no one deserved to be mistreated.

Moving further to the tree, she paused and looked at him once more until she jumped into the entrance of her hideout. It was big enough for tree people. There was a window so she would be able to see what was going on outside and she had managed to play with the leaves so she would have some sort of curtains. She did have the material but she used it as her sheets instead- they’d be warmer that way and she had to use camouflage if she didn’t want to be found. Her bed was in a corner of the hideout. It was made of hay and it was comfortable enough to keep her warm during the cold season. On the other side, there was a small table she had made herself that held a candlestick for some light when it was needed. She had a few boxes for storages and her weapons rested near. Nothing fancy but she had all she needed. She even had dry food stored as well as some bread she had gotten a few days ago.

She pushed the leaves that were hiding the view from her window and her head popped out allowing her to see Sven from above. “You can come up.” She said with a small smile before getting back in. There didn’t have a door but a whole where she would climb inside at the opposite side of the storage. She looked around thinking about the fact that she’d need a second bed- it wouldn’t be trouble, she could always do that the next day and besides, she doubted Sven would complain considering he’d been in the streets. She grabbed a hairbrush and started brushing her green hair, taking a seat on a pillow; she had two in case she was having a guest even though no one really entered in anyways and two others for sleep as well as a few other sheets to stay warm. It wasn’t a palace but it did the job well.