Revival, Act III: Courting Redemption (ShadoWeaver)

[Jaycy Ashleana]

(( August 6, night ))

Jaycy stared at the text she'd received, swallowing hard. It had been almost a full day since the failed Keeper challenge and the subsequent (and really, more important) events. It had turned out to be so simple, the relief from the prison that had held part of her ... Mart had just needed to touch her. Literally, anywhere. He'd done so - it was easy, given her exhaustion - and with a gasp she'd come back to her true self.

And in that last day, she'd come to sift through the memories of all that had happened in the last several months and been horrified. Much of the day was taken in working to undo the things she could solve now, and it'd kept her from breaking down under the weight of her atrocities. The next order of business was managing the hurts caused by her... well, alter ego, she guessed they could say, to two women. It was the text from one of them that held her frozen.

When and where.

With another flinch, she opened her phone and typed the response. Whenever you can, please, and the Cardinal Inn? It was cruel of her, possibly, to ask this woman to come into Jaycy's comfort zone but at the end of the day, the redhead didn't have the strength to meet her where Sammy might be more secure, safe, and comfortable. This wasn't going to be an easy conversation.

"I don't...." There was a huff as Sammy stopped her walk and faced towards one of her two guards. Gripping him by the shirt and shoving him back. "Go on lunch, the both of you. I am safe here... I don't give a flying fuck if were close to where it happened. I am far better armored... yes bring me back a coffee." She sighed and turned towards the Cardinal Inn. Her movement far more mundane than usual, as she strode quietly up to the front of the Inn.

There was, a moment, of hesitation around the Old Market. Just making sure there was nothing lurking in the shadows. The result of the ambush the night prior had Sammy very on edge. Something that corresponded with numerous things. The hawkish movements of her head in all directions, the coverage of her skin being far more then she had been wearing of late, and the obvious amounts of armor that were just weaved into those clothing.

Through the door of the inn she went, stopping short for a moment as her shoulders heaved downwards. Thankfully, as much as this was a place of comfort for Jaycy, the same could be said for Sammy. Enough trust being placed in both the Baroness and this place that she could breathe for a moment. The night alone, after entertaining the thoughts of interrogation of her employer and her sister, had been taxing mentally. Thoughts left far too untouched had to be addressed in solemnness and twilight hours of the day.

Regardless, Sammy would wave down a server and ask about Baroness Jaycy, letting them know to tell her that she [Sammy] had arrived as requested.

The server had originally mumbled, frustrated that someone would be coming in so close to closing time. The tension in his shoulders flowed away upon his discovery that Sammy was here for the Baroness and not for a bowl of freakin' chili. He directed her to an empty table near the wall, well away from the other patrons. It wasn't meant to insult the lady but rather to provide a measure of privacy in a place where there were still other patrons in attendance without forcing her all the way up to Jaycy's room.

He went to the door that led to the back kitchen, just for a moment, hollering "...getting Jaycy..." and then threaded his way around the tables in the great room and up the stairs. He ascended to that third floor and rapped at the last door thrice. The door opened and the person within had a quiet conversation before he retraced his path back to the kitchen.

Jaycy herself came down a few moments later. She wore her simple jeans and t-shirt (black) but her feet were bare. Her face had undergone a transformation, though, and not in any favorable way. While her hair was bound in a single braid down her back, wisps hung loosely in a frame around her face. Her face itself was engorged, skin puffed and flushed particularly around the eyes. Subtle rivers traced down her cheeks, the dirt linings a little darker than the flesh beneath.

Her posture, too, told a story as she descended the stairs and made her way toward the fateful table. Green-gold eyes were downcast, directed toward the floor. Shoulders lagged, hunched, and her movements were slow, not quite funereal but not much faster either. One hand rested on the bannister on the way down. Once she touched the main floor, however, she looked up enough to offer Sammy a tremulous, small smile.

[Jaycy Ashleana]

Sammy was ever so patient, needing the moment of casual relaxation that lent itself well to her feet kicking up upon the spare chair at the table meant for three. A low breath leaving her lips as she tossed her hands behind her usual mess of steely grey hair and closed her swirled eyes. Listening to the several other conversations that were occurring in the Inn that was approaching its closing time, it felt welcoming to just exist for once.

Getting Jaycy was yelled, and soon the server disappeared, before passing back through and into the threshold of the kitchen. It was only moments after that she straightened out her posture, an elbow landing on the table as she took in another deep breath and began to shift subtly until she did her best approximation of the way that Jaycy had expressed her delight in seeing Sammy. After all, she had looked delicious.

Royal purple took over her gaze as she caught the numerous changes, and the emotions worn so directly and openly by Jaycy. A sharp inhale came through her nose as there was an evident tension that filled her muscular form, her mind drifting to the possibility that someone had intentionally hurt Jaycy, and the number of ways she could remove said imbecile from existence. However, when there was the small, trembling smile, Sammy pushed that all aside.

As she had before with another, she was going to be the strong one. Her smile ever so alluring, though mixed with the natural worry that she often displayed at odd times and more so with strangers then with those she grew close to. Slowly moving to stand to her full height and pull out that of Jaycy's chair in a gentlemanly manner. "Good to see you." Her voice purred softly.

"Please, sit down," she requested, flopping a hand in some approximation of a wave toward the seat Sammy had just vacated. Oh, she looked healthy enough (Mart had seen to that) and while she moved with deliberation, it wasn't with any physical impediment. She did grant a thankful nod at the lady's chivalry, however, and eased into that seat and turned green-golds well up to the taller woman.

Both hands settled in her lap, twining together, and legs connected at knee and ankle. Her gaze drifted first over her companion's form, taking in the newness without comment as well as relearning her body. Her own patchwork sleeve of skin might have helped her both notice and understand (to some degree) what such a sight meant.

Her focus then turned again to the larger great room where the servers were diligently working to usher the last few patrons out. While they waited for that, however, she turned to pleasantries to pass the time. Or to stall from offering the meat of the conversation. "How are you?"

"Do you want the truth or want me to make it pretty?" She asked with a raise of her brow. Small talk; that was new. A slow churning of her jaw as she had easily settled back into a chair. Not the one that was directly across from Jaycy, but rather the spare that was closer, askew only slightly from the Baroness. Her gaze following the woman up and down for a moment, noticing the patchwork skin for the first time before focusing in on the woman's gaze.

A slow motion carried her right hand, the arm far more devastated in the ambush... mostly due to her own unbridled rage. Over towards Jaycy. A motion that had been done several times over when things were far more intimate. However, this time, instead of taking her hand forcefully it was offered upwards towards her upon the table as she would speak again.

"I am alive. Mostly uninjured, and thirsty." She said that as her left hand flagged down the same server, with an apologetic smile. "Could I get some whisky, please." She nodded and offered more than enough coin over towards the man before looking back towards Jaycy. "And how are you?" She retorted in a quick way to the Baroness.

She flinched as her gaze went from Sammy herself to Sammy's offered hand. It was a tiny, minuscule jolt but it was there all the same. "I'll get it," she assured the young man. He nodded and returned to his evening duties while Jaycy stood again. "I'm going to wait on that," came the next words and those directed to the gesture waiting at the table for her. "If you still want me to," she added with a wry look. It wasn't the atrocities that Jaycy had committed that she was worried the woman would reject, but rather the circumstances in which they found themselves.

"I'll be right back." Those parting words were the last she said before moving to the counter to pour a few fingers. In a second glass, she added some ice so that she would have an option. The money, of course, remained on the table. Jaycy brought both of them back, tucking the bottle of whiskey under her arm, and set them side by side so near to the upturned hand.

"I'm sorry you got hurt; do you want to talk about what happened?" It wasn't entirely an empty offer, the head tilt after she sat down seemed to suggest that she genuinely wanted to hear. Of course, that might have been another stalling tactic. "Do you want truth, or pretty, in relation to me?" Because of course they could have both conversations at once.

Sammy looked towards that of Jaycy, and the comment about waiting and still wanting. The way it was worded and the fact she left Sammy along to digest those words as she went to kindly grab the whisky bottle and a set of glasses. There was a watchful eye as she came back over with the drink, her hand moving to take the bottle itself and pour into the tumbler with ice.

"I think you know the answer to that." Speaking of the later before the prior. "It wasn't anything like the Tattler had it written, that much I can tell you. Though I am alright just... work hazard." She hissed something akin to a white lie, unsure of how to approach the topic of being ambushed to openly by feral vampires, or what that meant over all... especially knowing what Jaycy knew.

The other glass, presumably, was for the Baroness and Sammy made sure to pour a health dosage of whisky, before taking her own glass and raising it. "To hearing the truth, the only thing that matters" Her voice purred in a husky way as she shot back the whisky with a heated breath leaving her pouted lips.

[Jaycy Ashleana]

The second glass had been originally meant for Sammy, the redhead not sure if she’d want ice or not and she’d failed to ask. When the lady filled the first, though, Jaycy picked that one, saluted with a lift, and drank it down straight at once. And of course, then she gagged, and shuddered visibly. “It’s almost a miracle that I’m not suicidal.” There was the cold, unblemished truth. A truth unconnected to her interactions with the pair she’d abruptly left the few nights before. The words came in a low voice; while the leaving patrons were generally out of earshot, it didn’t do very well for them or even the servers to hear their current Baroness saying such blasphemies.

“Work hazard?” Brows furrowed, not because she didn’t seem to remember what the work was, but rather how what she knew of the attack could be connected to that work. “Seems a little extreme,” she ventured in that soft voice, caught alternatively peering up at her through lashes and watching the floor … stay there. “What was it like?”

There was a purple stare that lingered on Jaycy for a moment. That was one type of admission that Sammy wasn't exactly equipped to handle. Though it only caused her gaze to linger longer out of genuine-nature towards the practical stranger. As she brought the back of her hand to her lips to snuff out the breath of alcohol that came with her words, her smile turned soft as she shook her head. "There is no such thing as miracles. Only tough people who can withstand what the world wants to throw at them... and keep their chin up."

With that, she let out a breath and laughed a bit. "If you haven't caught on. My work isn't exactly just being a very expensive whore. That’s more for my own personal pleasure then anything... What was it like?" She poured herself a second glass, letting Jaycy set her own pace as she knocked it back with a throw of her head, before looking towards her.

"Eight feral dogs ripping you bit by bit... feeling their energy give way as you rip them to shreds with your bare hands... or turn them to... I guess grey mist since they were vampires." She paused and shrugged. "They had it coming... only just barely made it back in time to not bleed out. Thankfully my employer has connections to state-of-the-art medical facilities."

“Sometimes it’s less that and more we have someone to prop our chin up for us,” she murmured before casting her companion a soft, sorrowful smile that didn’t quite follow up to her eyes. Oh, she didn’t mean us in the manner of including Sammy but rather gave an admission that it wasn’t her own strength that sustained her. Her gaze flicked to the glass with a silent longing, fingers inching toward a bottle that could hold no answers or even an escape for her.

“Thankfully,” she agreed after listening with quiet attention to the description of the event from the one who’d lived it. “Thank you for your courage in coming here, in this District. I probably shouldn’t have asked you to come here after that but I didn’t know where else to meet you.” More truth. Not quite as bare, but still open and easily given. “Do you need help, or anything?” It was easier to focus on Sammy than continue to tell those truths she said she wished to hear.

Sammy would look towards her for a moment, her gaze catching the flickering of a smile that didn't seem to go all the way up to her eyes before then towards the glass that was empty. In all fairness, it did nothing to Sammy either. It just tasted better than water at the moment.

[Jaycy Ashleana]

"I wouldn't have missed it. And it got me away from having to deal with the assigned guards that I have to deal with now." She laughed a bit, heartily enough before then tilting her head. A moment was taken to ensure that her glass was fully empty before finally setting it down upside down. "Help... I don't know if I want to put anyone at risk... anything?" Sammy's royal purple gaze unsettlingly came to find Jaycy’s before speaking. "To know what's going on."

“Assigned guards?” She peeked up with just the barest hint of a grin that reflected a version of the Jaycy that Sammy thought she knew; strong, in command of mind, wits, and surroundings. Conspiratorial camaraderie also laced that bit of smile; she knew what and how she would react to assigned guards and thus could only assume how unwelcome they would be with the woman before her. 



The momentary amusement faded once Sammy turned to the crux of the matter, the reason for the summons from the redhead. Her shoulders slumped, deflating, and she slowly turned her face to the bulk of the space. The last customers were just closing the door behind them and the servers were beginning to wipe tables before upending chairs upon them. “Leave them for tonight; tell Franklin I said you could all go and I’ll deal with them for you.” The three paused, blinked, and then tossed her a jaunty salute and jogged into the kitchen. 

Jaycy turned toward her once more, eyes sparkling from the water that clung to the corners.

“I want to apologize,” she began.

Considering her guards were currently deliberating over the consistency of blood over a food truck meal outside of the Cardinal Inn, and she was inside: she was loathing the extra protection. If she couldn't protect herself then what was the point! The grin from Jaycy had Sammy chuckling a bit, whites of her teeth even showing: a rare occurrence considering her often ever permanent confident smirk that she wore. After all, she had defeated the vampires that night... right?

As orders were given to the staff, ones that bewildered the crew of the Inn and eventually left Jaycy and Sammy alone in a calming silence broken by the atmospheric crackling of the hearth kept low during the summer months, the movement in the kitchen and the occasional noise from the outside: a large crowd passing by or a rowdy teen on their overpriced bike with loud exhaust.

Catching Jaycy’s eye, she intently held the woman's gaze as she had several times before. Yet this time, there was no taunting. No invitation for her to enjoy the pleasures of the body in a sinful display. There was just Sammy listening. "Apologize for what?" Sammy's purr rang ever true, though its usually contralto allure had turned to almost amusement as the steel hair protruded off of her face as her head fell to one side, tilted at a comfortable angle.

She pulled a deep breath in, releasing it in a shuddering, hopefully steeling sigh. How else but to say this, but the truth? “The person, me… that you’ve been seeing the last few weeks, that you and your…” An affirming glance around. “…. employer met…. Well.” She paused, hands dropping to her lap to hold there, clutching each other as if nails or fingers could be pearls with which to worry and stroke upon.

What was she afraid of? She didn’t fear injury from Sammy, did she? No… And Sammy hadn’t known her so very long at all - a few weeks, at the most - so she shouldn’t fear histrionics. Besides, she wasn’t (from what Jaycy knew) the type to deal in entanglements with mere playmates. And face it, that’s really all Jaycy was, or if more than that, a boon to her employer.

So what was she afraid of? Admitting to murder out loud? Offending some moral code of a woman that did so many of the same things as she had done in her life? Mayhap, but that didn’t feel right. Her green-gold eyes aimed for purple, soft from personality and not the lighting or unnatural enhancements of a certain Opal.

No, she wasn’t afraid to tell Sammy. She felt guilty that she had, in this time, taken advantage of the other woman … even if she’d been a very willing participant, and hoped for future favor with her employer via Jaycy. “… it hasn’t exactly been all of who I am.”

[Jaycy Ashleana]

That comfortable lean of her head slowly raised itself up to be straight. Perhaps unexpectedly Sammy would stand and turn towards the door. Mundane yet ethereal footfalls carried her right to the threshold of the door, her hand placed upon the room temperature handle. Pausing for a moment at her own dramatics, before she turned and reached upwards, slamming the locking bolt into place with a silent din as she turned. "Didn't want a late arrival entering thinking there were customers." Her voice ever so nonchalant as she walked briskly back to the table... but not to her seat.

The tall woman stopped right next to Jaycy and came down to squat. Heels flat against the ground as was customary, only moving so she could fully face the baroness as both of her hands reached forward and sought out the redhead’s hands. "And?" There was a raise of her eyebrow, as she lifted her gaze ever so softly to Jaycy's as she continued to speak.

"If I recall, neither of us got to ask many questions of each other being so.... pre-occupied." She teased gently, before letting her tone become more genuine. "Just means there is more to get to know about you, and you about me." Sammy's right eye fell into a lazy wink as she would brush her thumbs along Jaycy's knuckles, should she have allowed the brazen act of taking hands.

That bolt’s slam precipitated a jolt within the redhead, a jerking wince from that she wasn’t prepared for, having not turned to watch when Sammy walked away. It’d made sense in the moment; she was wrapped enough in the cloak of her own guilt that of course the woman would immediately understand precisely her admission and would fairly abandon the conversation. Eyelids slid shut, tight, but she would not cry. No, she would not cry anymore today.

Until Sammy wasn’t gone anymore.

Jaycy felt her before she saw her; the heat so close made her open those eyes again and peek at the woman squatting before her. Her hand was limp but unresisting in being caught, and she shook her head, braid swishing across her back. “That’s what I mean,” she prevaricated. Deep breath, Jaycy. “I… our time together…” She fell mute briefly, but her mind raced with unspoken denials. I don’t do that, she wanted to shout. “I…” she tried again, struggling, swallowing. “Your employer… I wouldn’t have accepted any offer; I don’t want that. I wouldn't have played otherwise.” Not to say that she’d never have given freely, but the circumstances of her submission would have been very different.

“I…” Words failed.

There was a simple motion as the woman that she was crouched against danced and stumbled around her words: One hand lifting that of the Baroness' until it touched the Steel Haired woman's cheek. Letting her feel that warmth that the way the words danced around against her lips. The fact that her purr, as sultry as it was calm. As her hand peeled away, she did not force Jaycy to keep it there.

"What do you want?" Her words rang true as she continued. "Our time together I enjoyed, and I hope those comments about me not leaving you speechless and a mess did not mean I was not enjoyed by you." She laughed a bit, though it was not at Jaycy but rather at her own thoughts that were crossing her mind. Purple eyes lifting to find that of Jaycy's and hold it. "You don't have to apologize, if anything I am the one that is sorry. I am as much to blame for your discomfort, and that is not something I would ever wish."

As she said that she stood and spun back into her chair, leaning back and crossing both legs up and under her with a childish like grin on her, seemingly focused on making the Baroness both comfortable and happy.

Confusion lanced through Jaycy and her brows knit even as the tension in her set shoulders eased. She gave an exasperated huff as frustration rose to replace it; Sammy had been too casually amiable about everything she’d tried to say to actually comprehend the depth of her transgressions. She allowed her hand to be manipulated and moved, a putty plaything in the steel-haired woman’s hands. Once Sammy had moved away, her hand eased naturally back her to lap.

“I was possessed,” she tried, giving the first untruth of this conversation, but how else could she explain it? ‘My soul was shattered by an event I don’t think you were around for and anything that happened was because I had no heart?’ That seemed even more wildly unbelievable in this strange city full of impossible dreams and happenings, and if she couldn’t be believable, Sammy wouldn’t come to understand. Sammy needed to understand … no. She needed Sammy to understand. “You… caused no discomfort, at all. I…” Damnit.

[Jaycy Ashleana]

“…. want to apologize,” she repeated. “I’m sorry.” Oh gods, it sounded like she was trying to break up with her; Jaycy cringed at the tone of her voice. It wasn’t like they had that formal or type of ‘relationship,’ and besides, that should be Sammy’s path, rejecting Jaycy. She deserved it. Hands clutched again, clinging, fingernails digging into flesh and drawing thin crescents of red along the skin.

"I forgive you " It was that easy for Sammy. It wasn't something spoken casually or without disregard of Jaycy's struggle. She understood.

There was a momentary pause as she rocked on her rear forward so her legs furthered under her body weight before she reached for the bottle, and poured a single fingers worth and shot it back to keep her throat lively enough that she could speak. The words bouncing around in her mind that she knew would come across in a way that might have Jaycy asking her never to return...

"If anything I have my own reasons to apologize for." She tapped a finger against the table before she looked towards Jaycy. Sammy had not done anything to her at all, there was no pain caused, no burdens placed... if anything she had been absolutely clean around her. However, Sammy knew better then to expect it to remain that way... to hide what she really was.

"I'm more than a whore... I am worse than the feral vampires sent to kill me." beat "I am a monster in my own right, and you have every right to understand that I am not a good person." She looked towards Jaycy. "What I do gets people killed, often. Either feeding my employer or feeding my boredom at the mundanity of most people’s lives."

“You’re not a whore,” came the rushed denial. That might have been the truest evidence that the prior incarnation was cut of some different cloth than the one that sat here this night. Warmed, colored cheeks turned fully to Sammy as Jaycy raised her eyes to meet purple. A kindred spirit, understanding burgeoning. She softened. “This town has very few good people.” It was easy to soothe troubles in someone else; she too knew the call of pleasing and aiding those nearest her before herself.

Those easy words, though, perhaps at least in this case, could salve her own aching heart. I forgive you. Sammy didn’t need forgiveness from her despite her apology, Jaycy didn’t say those words out loud; the utterance of that sentiment would be meaningless when Sammy had done nothing to her. Sammy would have to find her own absolution for her supposed crimes.

For the first time, the Baroness reached out to this woman; her hand moved from lap and aimed for Sammy’s corresponding one. I forgive you. She still had so much to atone for, so many lives that would hang over her soul and haunt her. But in this she might find some peace, monster to monster. Fingertips extended, fluttering against the back of Sammy’s digits. “I’d like to get to know you better,” she offered in a gentle whisper. Not in bed, perhaps, yet, but as women who could maybe someday understand each other.

They could begin that process now.