Morning After
Evie had never been terribly fond of the sewers. The smell wrecked her nose, the sewer gunk took days to get out of her fur and the cramped tunnels took away from some of the very things she was best at. Climbing and running. But as she walked through the tunnel, her pockets stuffed with the gold and gems from those fish people's treasure, she was feeling pretty decent about the whole thing.
Soddin' fool, her internal voice said. None of this is right and you're too full of yourself that things ain't as they should be.
Evie stopped a moment. It did seem a little off kilter, like the rare occasions where she was mazed and felt all jumbled and turned around. But she wasn't lost at all, she was right next to her friends...But when she looked around, they had all taken a vanish on her. They had just been right beside her, hadn't they?
None of this is right, Eglantine. Her internal voice had suddenly gotten very serious. You aren't just earning a book here, you're about to walk in the reaper's shadow. And he's not the sort of fellow you give the laugh to.
Evie shook her head. She really was getting a little addled in the head from wandering down here. There was a light just ahead around the corner. Her friends were probably there, she thought to herself. So you can stuff it, you irritating little prig of a voice. The fact that she was arguing with herself was perhaps a point in favor of the idea that she had gone a bit barmy. But she'd be reunited with her friends soon and they'd help set her straight.
She walked around the corner and there was nothing but pain. Pain so hideous she couldn't even scream for how it had in her grasp. Was this what it was like to die? Then the pain went away and there was black, a darkness like she had never experienced before. Her cat eyes kept her from really ever experiencing true dark. But this dark wasn't scary. In fact, it was almost peaceful. A light approached her and wrapped itself around like a warm blanket and she snuggled in its familiarity and comfort. Until it changed into a horrible, horrible darkness. Not comforting, but one that left her freezing through her bones. The chill creeped up her body becoming almost tangible, like fear itself crawling across her. Before she could scream, the inky blackness, now dark tentacles, shoved their way up into her mouth and up into her brain.
Evie bolted awake, screeching at the top of her lungs, an unholy wail that trailed off as she realized where she was, in the comfort of her bed. Had it just been a dream? As she looked down at some of the bald patches where fur had been steamed off by that crazy down in the sewers, Evie was reminded it wasn't just a dream. No matter how much she might wish it so.
Josephine jerked upright at Evie's howl and before it faded, she was at her partner's side.
"Evie," she said, her voice low so as not to frighten the girl. "It is I, Josephine. You're safe. You're in your room. You were dreaming. You're safe." Josephine came as close as she dared without touching or crowding her, however much she wanted to take Evie in her arms. Instead, she softly patted the coverlet beside the girl's leg. "I'm here. You're safe."
"Oh, Jo, it was so dark," she whispered. "Was it real?" Even as she said it, Evie wasn't sure whether she meant the dream or what had happened in the sewers.
"I won't lie to you," Josephine said, taking Evie's hand and squeezing it gently. "Some of it was real. You were attacked. You were burned. Katherine saved your life. More than that, I cannot really say. I don't see magic the way the others do. I'm only human. But you're safe. Katherine and Ezekiel wouldn't leave you in the grip of whatever it was that held you. Not a single hair."
Josephine's kept her voice low, hoping to dispel any lingering effects of Evie's nightmare, and continued, "Can I get you anything? Are you thirsty?" Food and drink had the benefit of grounding a person during an upset and based on Evie's rude awakening, Josephine reckoned her partner was upset indeed. Don't smother her Jo. I expect she's had enough of that.
Evie nodded quickly. "Maybe some toast and some water, if you don't mind?" For a minute, Evie was six years old again, asking her mum to bring her food while she was sick. And the thought made her feel a little better...kept the darkness from the dream a little further at bay.
Thank God, she's all right. Pathetically relieved, Josephine nevertheless managed to keep it all inside. Aloud she said, "Of course. I shan't be long." With a parting caress of Evie's cheek, Josephine left the room to find her partner something to eat.
The hallway was empty. Apparently Evie's cry had not alerted the household and brought them running. Which, Josephine reflected as she took the stairs down to the kitchens, was just as well. She was certain that Evie did not want an audience when she was at a disadvantage. It didn't take her long to get a tray arranged with tea and toast for Evie, with a plate of sandwiches on the side for Josephine. A quick trip back up the stairs saw the tray laid across Evie's lap.
Evie grabbed the toast and forced herself to nibble on it rather than stuff it in wholesale.. As hungry as she was, she still remembered that time when she had fallen off a third story and cracked a few ribs. She had stuffed it all in right after that and what had gone in came tumbling right out. Served me right too, she thought.
Evie put her toast down and looked Josephine in the eyes, wanting to get the straight from her. "Give me the straight chant, Jo. Did anyone get writ in the dead book? I can handle it." She knew Jo would be honest with her, most of the time, but she might be trying to protect her now. The idea that Jo might want to keep her from harm gave her a little warm feeling in her chest.
"No. No one died." Josephine looked Evie in the eye and told her the truth. "Everyone is fine. You may very well see them all yourself before the day is out."
Evie nodded, letting go of a breath she hadn't been aware she had been holding. Occasionally, it was a little unsettling how quickly she had got attached to these people from a whole 'nother world. Attachments weighted you down and tied you up. But then again, she thought, she was a lot wealthier now than she had been before. She took another bite of toast, followed by a sip of tea to settle her churning stomach.
"I don't know, Jo. Maybe I ain't suited for this kind of life. Maybe all I'm good at is being a thief." It was like two dogs pulling at either end of a bone. The thief in her missed running the rooftops and the thrill of quietly sneaking into a bedroom and removing a piece right underneath its snoring owner's nose. But the curious cat in her cried out at the idea of giving up trips to strange new places and seeing things ordinary folks couldn't dream of.
"To be sure, you are getting into this game sooner than I did," Josephine admitted, allowing some of her dismay to show. "But you have also been on your own since you were a little girl and have already seen and done more than I had at your age now. It's stood you in good stead. And yet … I am sorry, Evie. I should have thought to have someone serve as lookout. Had I done so, that old man might never have taken us by surprise."
Could she have? Josephine wondered if perhaps she were being too hard on herself. It was easy to let remorse and dismay color her assessment of the situation, as well as smother Evie with her concern, which was something Josephine did not want to do. Even so, she couldn't help stroking Evie's shoulder.
"Are you in any pain?" she asked. "Shall I get Katherine for you?"
"I ain't trying to put the blame on your shoulders, Jo. I'm just a little jangled up." Evie could still feel the echo of the darkness touching her in all the wrong places and a sudden shiver ran through her. You're going to have to give that fear the slip, Eglantine or just hang it all up and play the good servant girl. Can't run the rooftops if you're looking over your shoulder every second. Evie didn't like being afraid. There hadn't been many moments in her life where she had felt truly afraid and that moment in the sewers...in her dream...it was the worst of the worst.
Evie gathered herself up a little in her bed and then patted Josephine on the hand. "You're the closest I've had to a mum since her, Jo. It's nice when someone cares, you know?" Listen to you blubber! Miss Josephine probably thinks you're going all soft.
"I do," Josephine said, noting Evie's shiver. She curled her fingers around Evie's and gave them a reassuring squeeze. Josephine bit her lip, allowing some of her emotion to finally show, said quietly. "I am not trying to replace your mother, Evie. I wouldn't dare presume. But to hear that you regard me kindly in that manner … it means more to me than I can say."
Evie nodded. "I know. Me and mum have come to peace. She knows you're good for me."
She closed her eyes for a moment to remember her, just the way she was. When she opened them, Evie took a deep breath, feeling focused again. "So, what now? How do I end up not being a stone in the deep to all of you? I got no desire to be the one that gets in the way."
"You've been doing wonderfully so far. It was just bad luck the old man got the drop on us. Although …," Josephine paused, thinking. "If you were doing a job that needed more than one person to pull off, how many would you have and what would you have them do? Have someone working look out, another down below to catch what you throw? Do you think we could have done more of that in the sewers?"
"Never really pulled any jobs that required more than one." Evie had always had to rely on herself and only herself. If it had been too big for her to do by herself, then it had gotten put aside. That was part of why she was so twisted up about being with everyone, Evie guessed. She liked having someone there for her, but she didn't have any idea what she was supposed to do.
"I guess I would've just been a lot more with the quiet, Jo. But with that many folks, it's like trying to hide the Queen's procession. Waste of your time and hers."
"Yes," Josephine said, frowning at the coverlet. "I cannot see a way around that, not without magic at any rate. And if we did use a silence spell, the lack of sound would be a dead giveaway as sure as a gunshot." She shook her head and looked up again, her expression carefully neutral. "Never mind that now. Where do you want to go from here, Evie?"
Why was she asking her? Evie didn't have any clue. At the moment, she just felt like a useless lump. She shook her head as she said, "I'm all mazed when comes to this, Miss. But if you'd rather not have me around anymore, I'd understand. I got more than enough jink now to live out the rest of my nine lives."
"Oh, Evie …," Josephine breathed, pained at the misunderstanding, and she let some of it show. "That is not what I meant at all. I would never just give you the shove. Never. You're my partner in this. Until the road ends." Josephine gently took Evie's hand in hers. "But you have equal say in what you do. I … You remember what I said to you, that day we first met? How I needed someone like you to be my eyes and ears on the City? The rumors of the fishmen and their presence in the sewers is just the sort of thing I would have wanted to know. Because as it stands, they might well pose a risk to the entire city, if not the Empire. But running down the whispers and snippets you hear is not without its risks. You got a taste of that this evening, a harsh one, and for that I am more sorry than I can say. I never wanted this to happen to you when I asked you to join me in this. Please believe that."
Josephine squeezed Evie's hand gently.
"If after tonight you wish to sever our partnership for your safety, I understand and will not hold it against you. If you wish to continue to send me information but stay clear of the verification process, again, I will not hold it against you. But if you decide to stay, it must be of your own volition and not from any coercion from me. I cannot demand you stay against your better judgment. It would only poison things between us and I …," Josephine took a deep breath to steady herself and pushed on. "I care too much for you and our friendship to force you to stay."
She wasn't getting it and that wasn't nobody's fault but Evie's. They used words like Evie would use a set of picks, precise and without wasted effort. But she always seemed to stumble over the words. She gathered herself to try again. "I ain't afraid of dying, Miss Jo." Or at least she hadn't been until those moments in the dark. "I'm afraid of being useless. I got no fondness for getting into a fight and that's where it seems to end up with adventures. I don't want to leave...I just don't want to be no hanger-on."
"I remember feeling the same way when I was with the troupe." She had, really. "I was never really assigned a permanent role but shifted around as needed. I learned so much that I otherwise would not have but I always felt, if not unneeded, then certainly temporary. Of course, temporary in this case ended up being ten years, but still … here I am and there they are. Somewhere else." Josephine sighed and tipped her head back, staring at the ceiling as if the answer she sought was there, then met Evie's eyes again. "My first instinct is to teach you other things, other roles, but perhaps more heads can be involved in this. Shall we take this to Ezekiel and Katherine? Perhaps together all four of us can find a way to integrate our talents more efficiently. What do you think?"
"I can do whatever you think's best, Miss Josephine." Evie, in times of stress, found herself reverting back to the old form of address. "I hate to bother the lovebirds. They got more important things to worry about than Evie, they do. We'll figure something out. I trust you." As she said it, Evie was a little surprised by how much she actually meant it. It had been a while since she really trusted anybody, but she trusted Josephine to do right by her.
"All right," Josephine said, hearing the trust in Evie's tone and humbled to receive it. "We shall. But first we must get you well. We have time to plan the details later."
And as Josephine said that, Evie felt fatigue wash over her, like a flood she had been holding back. She yawned a big cat like yawn, accompanied with a stretch as she curled into a comfortable position. "Guess I'm still not up to snuff yet. Going to sneak a little nap, if you're not minding."
"Not at all, love," Josephine said softly, the endearment coming easily as she stroked Evie's velvety ears. "Sleep."
And with permission given, Evie did exactly that.
Josephine gently stroked Evie's ears and head until the cat girl was well and truly asleep, then leaned back in her chair at bedside. After checking her father's watch—the hour was not yet past noon—Josephine returned to the task Evie's nightmare had interrupted. The habit of years and the Colonel's standing injunction to scrupulously write her cases down kept her mind and her hands busy until Ezekiel arrived to relieve her an hour later.
Since any campaign is a collaborative effort, Journal and RP entries by our other players can be read here.
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