No I don't fix shoes

[Guest]

He thrusted himself into the crowd and walked fast slipping in and out of the people who were looking for relatives or friends. Slithering through the crowd he didn't dare look back. The slap of the sword on his back in a rhythmic thumping that matched his heart beat. Keeping the coat over his head to hide his face. His bare feet slapping in heavy footfalls for what seemed like hours.

Soon stopping as he realised he had ended up in the a small quiet housing area. Swearing lightly to himself. Gripping his arm tightly he felt the sting of his wound that was eating away at his arm. It was septic and causing a fever through his body. His body was shaking in protest as he kept going. Trying to in somewhere to hide...wait. He could sense someone following him but the pulsing of his head and the coat muffled his hearing.

Suddenly a crack in the air caused him to cry out as his right thigh exploded in blood. The bullet went straight through and out into the wall across. Splattering blood across the wall. With a loud curse he fell against the wall just managing to remove his sword the coat falling to the floor. With a might curve of his arm he cleaved it in the air as he tumbled backwards. The blade made a swoosh as it cut the air and a gargle was his answer. The man fell dead throat slit cleanly. Leaning on his sword he hissed between his teeth as he limped using the blade as a crutch. Annoyance filled him as he knew he was ruining the blade. He grinded his teeth as he made it across the street in what felt like an eternity. Stumbling across the path toward an alley the blade slipped and he went crashing down to the ground below meeting only blackness.

[Shula Brighton]

Back in Central, Shu's two days off, always placed together to make a whole weekend once her rank was high enough that she could request that, were always a blessing. Even if they weren't just lounge about the house in her jammies days, they did give her a chance to get some fresh air, straighten her head, and maybe pick up whatever she was out of. Days off might have meant lunch or drinks with Acra or Spade at the pub (or finishing off whatever paperwork they'd both neglected that week), or even having a few hours to dance and keep up with the traditional forms for her temple dancing. Hell, days off meant she had time to go to the temple. But now that she was in charge of South, “days off” were never really that. Sure she had people who worked for her and would do whatever she asked of them, but South HQ was still so understaffed and there was so much in South that needed tending, even outside of the military's needs. So any time she was away from her desk there was a good chance the tiny general in charge of it all was out doing something to try and help get more done.

Most of the time, she was in the garden she was having built. All the money Aaron had been sending her each month that she'd put into savings to give back to him when he settled down and had a family of his own... That was her dream. All that money he'd sacrificed for her was being kept and was going to go to giving his children a good future. But that dream was gone forever now, wasn't it? And so the money was being spent to make a giant spherical garden floating above the water, and like the rest of South, would function as a tourist attraction... and a memorial. Plants of every kind and birds and lights and small waterfalls and a tiny temple to pray at and.... It would be beautiful when it was done. Shula would make certain of that. Today, on her day off, Shula was putting aside her other small mountains of work and the many things on her mind and had spent most of her day at the garden in progress and had gotten a lot done. The smallest sphere was coming along nicely, and the waterfall in it would make it so tranquil. But now? Now she was on her way home for the afternoon, tired and in need of a shower and lunch.

Shula's loft was beautiful, raised up above the ground on pier and beam, and set to overlook the lake. Covered with tall windows, it was meant to bring in as much light as possible all day long, adding to how open the floor plan was. Airy, bright, warm, comforting. And with eight longs on her door, very, very safe. Her house wasn't so far from everyone that she was all alone and beyond screaming distance, but alone enough that she had her privacy; being in charge had its perks. Her home was tiny and very modest, but built to respect that she wanted her space. And as Shula walked through the more crowded part of town, a small bag of fruit hanging from her elbow as she walked, she tried to keep her thoughts from drifting too much. It was kind of lonely in her home. Spade was in Central, and though Acra had been moved to South, he was still so far away...

There was some commotion going on, the volunteer police and a few MP's running about, but when she'd asked, she'd been assured everything was under control. Good, she liked that answer. They could function without her for an afternoon, couldn't they? Shula was nearly out of the marketplace and headed closer to her home when something caught her eye... Between the throngs of people, lost amid the boxes, there was a someone. Shula looked around, then stepped closer to the alley. It was a man. Laying face down on the sandy street, and bleeding. ”Hey Mister? You okay? Sir?” She knelt down, and shook his back lightly, avoiding the wounded areas. He was alive and breathing, but not responding. White hair, brown skin... Ishvallan? And... pointed ears? Shula blinked. She grew up on fairy tales, and the stories her brother would bring her from the village they lived in. Old people there still believed in the forest elves and would leave bowls of milk out for them. But they were supposed to be small, weren't they? But.... pointy ears... and funny marks on his body... Her mind raced. Were elves real?! Ohhh if Aaron could see this. She knew she was right when she said she'd seen one in the garden!!

Shula touched his face again; he was running a fever, too. South's hospital was still small and growing, and like everything else, understaffed. And... whoever he was, judging from his looks something gave her the hint that a regular clinic might have some questions. The commotion from down the street was clearing up, though a few soldiers milled about. Shu waved one down. ”Steinbach! Good to see you.... Be a dear, help me carry this man.” Her orders were plain and simple, and weren't questioned, the young man pulling the unconscious chimera onto his shoulders easily, soon joined by another soldier to help tote Fenris to Shula's loft. Up the stairs and into the house, Shula quickly threw a sheet over the sofa where he was laid.

The nice thing about being in charge was that a lot of people didn't question her when she asked them to do something. Shula had never been one for direct orders before she was placed in charge, and she certainly wasn't now. She only asked you to do something, and it was done, simple as that. And doctors would make house calls if she asked, the man coming quickly to tend to the unconscious chimera on the general's sofa. Things were removed, stitched and injected, and Shula was left with medicine and instructions for when her guest came to. He would be fine, the doctor had said, even though he wasn't sure what kind of a person this was. The ears could have been the result of a cosmetic ear pointing, but they seemed so long and natural... and the markings were odd, too. Shula sat by the sofa, checking on her guest now that the doctor was gone, wondering when he would wake up to explain himself.

[Guest]

It was long after the sun had dipped under the landscape of hills and a darkness had shrouded the sky. The moon had risen from its daylight slumber and white dots of starlight had littered the sky in a luminous glow was it till a small groan had escaped the dried chapped lips of the chimera. After a few moments of internal debate and a battle of inner wills did caramel eyelids slowly open revealing mossy eyes to the world. They flickered lazily around the room in a bewildered state as mental question after question rolled though his brain. Am i dead? where am I? Who is that girl? Why am I so hot?

He slowly sat up wincing at the pain in his leg. He could barely move and the horrible smell from his arm was gone and as he looked the dirty scrap of material was gone replaced by crisp bandages and the new smell of antiseptic wash. He blinked as the sleep slowly faded from his mind. To be replaced by utter panic.

His breathing speed up as he tried to move. Tried to stand. Tried to get the fuck out of this room. He was caught and trapped and most likely being made ready to be shipped off to who knows where. He would not allow it after his freedom he wouldn't let it go. Looking around he noticed his sword propped against the wall. Feebly trying to reach it he rolled onto his stomach, growling at the pain in his leg. Sliding his belly onto the arm rest he reached out pawing at the arm. His clawed gauntlets scrapping and twitching towards the hilt of the broad sword. It was so far from his grasp his thick brows furrowed in concentration and his ears twitched slightly. Almost....almost…almost....then suddenly his hand slipped from the arm rest and he went crashing down with and almighty wallop. "OH FOR FUCKS SAKE!!!" He swore loudly as the broken appendage smacked the arm rest but snagged leaving him in the most ungraceful of positions.

[Shula Brighton]

The incense had long-since burnt out, but the lingering smell of warm spices lingered in the air of the small loft that overlooked the lake adding to the tranquil quiet of the night as the silent stars went by over the great lake outside. Shula's guest had been sleeping all day since she'd found him and brought him into her home, and the doctor had left her with instructions for his care and money for his services and his patient confidentiality. Shula had made sure to keep things quiet in the house all day to let him rest, the smells of cinnamon and vanilla drifting around the room all day as she kept herself busy. There were things to look over for HQ and new personnel coming to her; when wasn't there something to do?

It was late when Shula finally drifted off in a fat, mismatched chair in her living room, her palm resting in her cheek. Her room was upstairs and not far, but she wanted to keep herself close when the elf finally did come around. She had already changed his bandages that afternoon, but she did have more clean bandages, antibiotics and pain medicines for him. Between him and everything else, she'd had a long day and a nap had been in order, so she didn't immediately wake when Fenris started moving.

A soft waking sigh was exhaled, Fenris' movements reaching somewhere through the haze of sleep, though it wasn't until he'd fallen over the arm of the sofa and was swearing that she woke up all the way, suddenly on her feet and hurrying over. "You'll hurt yourself," Shula reached down slowly, potting her hands on him gently to try and help right him. "Here, let me help you back up so you don't tear your stitches..." Carefully and caringly he was helped back up onto the sofa, struggling or not, his precious sword still so far from his reach and Shula unaware that he had been reaching for the blade. "There, that's better. Are you alright? You didn't open your wounds, did you? You need to stay still for a while..."

[Guest]

Fenris blinked as the white haired girl came rushing to his aid. "You'll hurt yourself," She gently lifted him back onto the sofa. "Here, let me help you back up so you don't tear your stitches..." Stitches? What stitches? Who was this girl with crimson eyes and hair like his own snowy locks. "There, that's better. Are you alright? You didn't open your wounds, did you? You need to stay still for a while..." He was propped back on the sofa as she rambled off. His own brain running one hundred miles and second as the questions pounded against his skull.

His pupils dilated in panic as his breath came out in harsh pants. In a quick move his clawed gauntleted adorned hand grabs her wrist. Digging the sharp spikes against her skin. His upper lip curling into a snarl showing slightly sharpen canines his eyes feral and sharp. Almost as if he would attack her. " Where am I?" His voice was deep and harsh. "Who are you and who do you work for?" Each question he squeezed Shula's thin wrist harder with each question.

[Shula Brighton]

The strange elvish man was helped up easily enough, even though he seemed more confused than anything. Then again, he'd dropped in an alley and her flat was nothing like where he would have last remembered himself. She hadn't immediately noticed his breathing speeding up or the dilation of his pupils. Shula had only barely realized that she might have been overloading him with what she was saying as she was fretting over her guest hurting himself more than anything. Which was why as Fenris' spiked hand suddenly shot out for her wrist faster than she could have blocked it, it came as that much more of a surprise to her.

The metal pricked against her skin with just enugh pressure that it wasn't drawing blood but could at any moment, the man's grip on her right hand fierce. Shula let out a soft gasp but bit back the initial yelp of pain, wisdom fighting her initial instinct to try and jerk her arm free or panic. He had the advantage here, even if she was still recovering from Drachma and she was still tritchy. "Where am I? Who are you and who do you work for?"

Dear Ishvalla, the man she'd rescued was growling almost, and every beat of his heart seemed to make him squeeze harder against her tiny bones and the spikes to dig further into her flesh. It only took one pound of pressure per square inch to break skin, and only eight to break bones. It seemed like a difficult thing to get to, but that much force was really such a little thing that even children were fully capable of. Being self-aware enough to practice restraint was why it didn't happen more. But this man? He was intense and if he continued his actions, just a light twist or grind and her wrist would be cracking.

A faint, pained noise breathed out with Shula's soft words, the tiny woman keeping very still. "My name is Shula, and you're in my home." Though she swallowed most of it, her eyes showed the slight pain and fear as hers met his, surprisingly not looking away. "I'm a soldier and servant of the people... Please... Y-You're hurting me..."

[Guest]

She had gasped as his claw adorned hand wrapped round her wrist. Unknowing to her he had placed the pads of his fingers on her pulse. It had picked up speed like one would expect in her panic. But instead of racing into a gallop like a normal panic person's pulse would, her's only slid into a tolt.

She had made a pained protest to him as he asked his question. Though he himself panicked had managed to concentrate on her pulse. "My name is Shula, and you're in my home" His eyes stayed focus on hers. Almost as if he was waiting for the moment to rip her throat out. His pupils had shrank into slits. Feral anger and Wolf like aggression radiated from him. " I'm a soldier and servant of the people... please... Y-You're hurting me..." She hadn't lied but his eye narrowed. He relaxed his grip though. Unsure why he felt bad for hurting her. His thumb still feeling her pulse he gently tugged her closer so his mossy eyes met her red ones his voice and breathing seemed calmer as his voice still a growl seemed less nastier. " What...people..." It was a simple and straight foreword question.

[Shula Brighton]

The grip on her wrist lessened slightly, as did the pressure of the metal prongs poking into her soft flesh. . Shula took a few slow breaths in and out, trying to remain as calm as possible; despite the intense "training" Raistlin had put her through to hide her feelings under pressure, there were some things that Shula could not immediately hide. Fear when someone looked ready to rip out your throat and felt like they honestly could without even trying was one of those things. Dear lord, just my luck to rescue someone who wants to kill me..

"What...people..." His tone had changed ever so slightly with his grip lessening, though Shula didn't dare take her eyes away from his. Right now he seemed he could go either way, and of the options dead wasn't the one Shula really was crazy about.

"The Amestrian people. I'm an alchemist for the Amestrian military." Not a truth everyone was keen on these days, but it was the truth. She took a small breath, trying to redirect his attention off of her. "I found you unconscious in the alley. You were hurt, so I brought you here..."

[Guest]

"The Amestrian people. I'm an alchemist for the Amestrian military." He frowned. "I found you unconscious in the alley. You were hurt, so I brought you here..." An Alchemist. He was trapped in the home of an alchemist. But she had complied and answered his questions. Heck she saved his life most likely. He gently let her go removing his clawed gauntlets from her delicate wrist he placed his hands in his lap feeling bad when his mossy eyes caught a view of the marking he had stained her skin with. His ears drooped slightly like a scolded puppy. "Forgive me...I struggle to trust people....I did not mean to seem ungrateful to you for saving my life....even...if you are....an alchemist..." He mumbled the last part clearly not at ease being here. His life had been ruined by an Alchemist…now it had been saved by one. What irony it was. He wondered if the people above was laughing at him.

[Shula Brighton]

Shula's growling guest didn't seem terribly pleased with her answers, the look in his eyes speaking volumes as he frowned. And yet, he slowly let go of her wrist with surprising gentility, his long ears drooping back slightly. A faint sigh of relief passed through her nose, Shula withdrawing her arm away from Fenris slowly, rubbing the tiny red marks the points of his gauntlets had made. The sharp points had broken skin, but weren't deeper than just enough to draw blood to the surface int tiny red gems. She looked up from her arm up to Fenris, shifting onto her knees to sit more comfortably.

"It's alright," she replied quietly. "Right now State Alchemists aren't too high on many people's lists. But I'm working to change that, slowly." She stood up slowly, working to make no quick motions next to him before she ducked into the kitchen and poured a glass of water and brought it back to him, offering it slowly.

"The doctor says you should be fine in a few days and you just need to eat and rest while your wounds mend. I would be happy if you stayed as my guest until then, um...." It just dawned on Shula that she didn't know her guest's name, as he'd had no ID when she found him, and since waking he hadn't really stopped to introduce himself. She still wasn't sure what he was, for that matter, just that he looked like all the pictures she'd seen drawn of elves in her books when she was little. "Um... What's.. your name?" I will not ask if he's an elf. I will not ask if he's an elf. That'd be beyond rude, and if he is and gets mad he might bite me...

[Guest]

"It's alright," His ears twitched slightly as he glanced towards her through the barrier of white fringe. There was slightly dots of blood on his wrist and he couldn't help but tense. He was stuck with an alchemist. "Right now State Alchemists aren't too high on many people's lists. But I'm working to change that, slowly." He couldn't help but snort. That was an understatement.

She slowly stood and exited the room. To shortly return with a glass of water which she held out for him. He blinked at her confused. His ears twitched again as dark eyebrows retreated into his hair as they raised high in his confusion. What...was she doing? Was she offering him the glass. After an internal battle of the century he gently took it. The metal gauntlets clunking against the glass even though Fenris took it with caution of a time bomb.

Here came the next battle as he stared at the water. It was cold and caused the glass to condensate against his fingers. Why would she get him a glass of water. He gave her another curious look the ears dropping at his brows knitted in a suspicious glare. He sniffed the water curiously. No oder...well that was a goodish sign. But not all poisons or sedatives have oders. He gently let his tongue dip out and lap a few drops onto his tongue and pulled it back sucking on his own tongue slightly. No taste either. He frowned and held the glass in his lap.

His gaze and attention went back to the alchemist. "The doctor says you should be fine in a few days and you just need to eat and rest while your wounds mend. I would be happy if you stayed as my guest until then, um...." He blinked and cocked his head. Was this normal to pick up questionable chimera from alleyways then invite them to live in your house. Then again was he normal either. "Um... What's.. your name?" He coughed nervously and looked to the water in the glass in his lap. "....It's...Fenris....." He couldn't help but be cautious. She may of been telling the truth to him about working in the military but.....what if someone used her for information on him.

[Shula Brighton]

he was so quiet, and seemed so suspicious. It was only a glass of water. Dd he think she was trying to kill him or something? Shula watched as he tested the drink and lapped at it for just a moment, still seeming totally on his guard. She moved back to sit in the chair nearest the sofa, watching him quietly. Oh, whatever WOULD everyone else think? Leave her alone for a day and she goes and starts picking up strays.

"Well, that is, if you don't have somewhere you should be Just I found you outside and you were hurt and nobody was helping you, so I wasn't sure, and until your thigh's mended you might not want to put too much weight on it walking around and-"

"....It's...Fenris....."

Shu realized with a blush that she was rambling, a little too caught up in her excitement that she almost didn't hear the wolf's quiet reply. Fenris. Interesting name. It was kinda pretty. She took in a breath, swatting her wrist mentally and telling herself to chill out.

"It's nice to meet you, Fenris. So tell me... Is there, um... someone I should call for you? To let them know you're okay or where you are?"

[Guest]

"It's nice to meet you, Fenris. So tell me... Is there, um... someone I should call for you? To let them know you're okay or where you are?" He growled and frowned. "There is no one!" He said firmly. "I am alone."

He looked around the place confused. He had no where to go his eyes flitted around before his ears drooped again in sadness. He was lost and trapped once more. All he wanted was to be free. But then he had no where to go. No goals in life. All he had was memories of chains and pain. And who would want to be around someone like him? He wasn't human and he looked frightening. The markings on his skin were impossible to hide. His ears were long and pointed. Yeah he would totally blend in....HA. He had more chance of going to the moon.

His eyes flittered over to Shula once more. “Alchemist!” He practically snarled the word as if it was venom. “What’s…your name again?” After all…he didn’t want to keep spitting that horrible word at her.

[Shula Brighton]

Fenris' voice was gravely, growling as he snapped at her with a frown. It almost sounded canid, as though it would be the noise a dog would make if it were pissed at you and could talk at the same time to tell you about it. Or maybe that was just the grain to his voice. Regardless, it was rather abrasive in tone, and made Shula twitch backward slightly in her seat. Though she flinched at the tone, her eyes didn't leave her guest; he had seemed slightly repentant for a moment at hurting her, so it didn't seem likely that he was going to get up and grab his sword and run her through... but dammit he seemed to keep giving off the bell that he might bite her.

Shula sighed inwardly, wondering what she'd just gotten herself into and what she was thinking. She didn't regret saving him at all, but did make her wonder what went through her own head at times and what on earth the people that lived in the little house with her would say. "Alchemist!" The venom and disdain in his voice caught her attention, drawing red eyes back to him. Really, if he hated her so much for saving him, the door was only fifteen feet away. "What's...your name again?"[i]

"It's Shula," she replied, her Amestrian accent slipping, giving to the heavier IShvallan undertones. She'd nearly said [i]Shulat. She fidgeted a little, looking around her home before looking back to Fenris' eyes. "My family should be home tomorrow, so you're welcome to stay here the night, unless there's somewhere else you'd rather be. I can put you up at hotel for a few nights just fine." She wasn't going to throw her guest out when he shouldn't be moving around much until he'd healed, but if he didn't care to be in her company he was welcome to be elsewhere and she'd help however she could.

[Guest]

"It's Shula," "My family should be home tomorrow, so you're welcome to stay here the night, unless there's somewhere else you'd rather be. I can put you up at hotel for a few nights just fine." He listened calmly. sighing and with a slight growl he sat up. "No...I will not be a burden to you..." Trying to get some feeling back in the limb so he could stand and leave.

He couldn't expect this girl to pay out for him. also what was to say if someone approached her she wouldn't be able to resist the urge to sell him out. It wasn't like he blended in and clearly from the way she found him he was classed as suspicious. But as he tried to turn to stand a thick wave of nausea hit him. Crippling him back to the sofa as he tried to shake the feeling from his head. His elvin like ears drooping low in his pain.

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