[Log] Thanks for the flowers
Jun. 20th, 2017 01:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
st_ingofthehundredCaroline comes to thank Kash for the flowers. He's channel-surfing.
Caroline didn't expect thanks - or apologies - from new arrivals. They were often cranky from being yanked unceremoniously out of their homes and dumped into a kitsch fantasy land of a prison. It was hard to hold a little bad temper against them, given the circumstances. Kash hadn't been all that much worse than any others, but he was definitely the first to actually say he was sorry for it. Even if he did drop the goods and run without so much as a word.
However, it was an opening and Caroline wasn't averse to making use of it. She gave him some time first - he seemed like the sort who could use it and she had to sort out his schedule anyway - then made her way to his room one evening. He usually spent them alone, which made this a convenient time to drop by. A basket swung from her wrist as she rapped on the door.
Already settled for the evening -- exercise done, dinner eaten, Vox Machina off being Vox Machina, second Sending to Z accomplished and failed -- Kash had stripped off the pink "tank top" that satisfied whatever passed for standards of decency in the Madonna Inn and parked himself on the "couch." He'd worked out the "remote" by accidentally turning on the picture box (and narrowly avoiding having to use the "phone" to get help turning it off), and now "flipped channels" to see what was "on." Whatever that meant.
The knock at the door drew a surly look that was pure reflex. He pushed the down arrow on the "remote" to make the box quieter. "If this involves assassins or dragons, I'm not here," he called through the door, using thaumaturgy to amplify his voice.
Well, at least she was pretty sure that cranky was a default setting and not just part of new arrival stress. "It doesn't involve either. Can I come in? It's Caroline."
Caroline? What'd he done to provoke her this time? Sighing, Kash rubbed a hand over his face and stood, then tossed the remote to the couch. Instead of calling through the door again, he just walked over and opened it. "If this is about the pool, talk to de Rolo."
"The pool?" Caroline asked blankly, then took in the full...shirtlessness in front of her. Wow. Father What-a-Waste. She dragged her eyes back up to his face with effort and slapped on her best friendly neighborhood cheerleader smile. "Um, no. I actually just stopped by to thank you for the flowers and to bring you these." She held up the basket.
"On Vax's..." he'd begun to say but stopped at the full-on stare. "You know what, never mind." He followed her gaze to his chest and then lifted his back to her face. He almost asked. But that, too, never mind. She'd tell him if he was being rude. Then he'd decide if he cared. He might, if those were what he thought they -- he inhaled -- they were. "Thanks." It almost merited full enthusiasm.
For anything less than chocolate chip, he probably would've thanked her and shut the door. Chocolate chip, though... "Any chance you brought milk, too?" he asked from over his shoulder, since he'd already turned away to make space on a small end table for the basket.
Caroline remained standing in the doorway, unable to cross the threshold until she had permission. But it did give her a chance to ogle his back, which looked just as good as the front view. Plenty of scars, though, especially on his arms. She wondered what the story was there. "No, I didn't think to bring milk too." She'd figured it would be even odds he'd slam the door in her face, after all, and hadn't wanted to waste the groceries.
"Too bad." Since he'd already picked up a cookie and taken a bite, he even forgot to snarl about it. He gestured at her with the cookie-hand, very nearly smiling. "Might as well come in. These are great." Different than the ones the pretty baker girl made but still great. "I was just 'flipping channels'."
She breathed a sigh of relief and stepped forward. "Is there anything good on? I tried for about ten minutes one time but then I remembered the 90s were a wasteland TV wise." The cookies were still warm, so they quickly filled the room with their scent.
Kash gave her a look, a cross between the hell were those words you just made? and you're asking me? and the blankness probably not improved by the cookie half in-half out of his mouth. He broke it off, chewed, swallowed and finally managed, "Blonde chick running around staking vampires like they're that easy to kill, bunch of talking slaad that are supposed to be dinosaurs, governess with a voice like torture in hell, and the city watch doing a decent job of tracking killers."
Caroline's automatic flinch was mostly controlled. Staking vampires was a touchy subject with her. She folded her arms and tried to look nonchalant. "Yeah, those all sound pretty awful. Not that I have any idea what a slaad is, but I'm guessing they're...lizardy?"
"Creations of prime magic. Evil. A bitch to kill," Kash said like he was reciting something he'd memorized, while he sat and gestured for her to join him if she wanted. Something he'd said, maybe about vampires or killing, had made her flinch. He felt like kind of a dick, since for once, he hadn't been trying to shove her away. "Think bipedal frogs with six-inch claws."
"This is where I make a joke about my exes." Whether she meant evil, a bitch to kill, or frog-like was unclear. She smiled, just a little forced, and took a seat on his sofa. "Is that something you do? Kill evil magical creatures? I didn't really get a chance to learn much about you when you arrived. How are you, by the way? Did Dr Butters help?"
"This is where I don't even joke about mine." Kash didn't shudder, but it was a near thing. He forced his attention to Caroline, away from Vesh, which worked out fine, since they were very nearly opposite in every way. He pushed the mute button on the remote and then waggled his hand. "I kill shit when I get paid to or when it's trying to destroy the world. Otherwise, I'm a healer. So, no. Butters didn't help. He offered, but I had it."
She didn't have her notebook on her; she'd have to update it later. "Oh. Well. I'm glad you're okay. I was worried when you just ran off still bleeding. That's not usually a recipe for a long and prosperous life." Caroline picked up a cookie and broke it in half. "What does it mean, being a healer in your world? Are you a doctor like Dr Butters or ...you're a priest of some kind, right?" Vampire ears were good for eavesdropping and she was almost certain that she'd heard Percy mention something like that at some point.
"Yeah. Sorry about that." He was, actually. She'd been nice in her bossy way. "We'd just taken down the Cinder King and suddenly I was here. I was more worried about the bitch green dragon that took off on us than me bleeding out." In a way, that was actually an answer to her question, but he didn't figure she'd realize that. "That's kind of what a cleric does. Fights evil shit, fosters life, heals people. Technically I can do rituals but it's not my bag of tricks."
Oh, one of those kinds of people. A Tyler or a Stefan, not a Damon or a Klaus. The sort who would suffer for others without thought. The green dragon, Caroline knew, was the reason Percy had shown up looking two seconds from dead. "You sound like some kind of supernatural do-gooder," she suggested.
"Blame Vox Machina for that." And Z, and the people of Whitestone. And Vesh in her way. "Lately it's been more city defense, siege-breaking and taking back our cities than adventuring. Suits me better than getting all up in strangers' business." Blame Z and the lot for that, too. Reminding him, or maybe straight up teaching him, that he preferred having his own patch of ground to protect, even if he'd go wherever he had to to fight Vesh.
Caroline nibbled on her cookie, thinking about that. "So you like helping but not doing the public interfacing part. Except that you also do medicine, so there's a little bit of patient interaction there. Or are you like Dr Butters and you only want to deal with them after they're dead?" It would make a difference to how often she forc...ahem, asked him to provide health services to the hotel guests.
"Life cleric," Kash said again, his voice expectant, like she was asking a dumb question. "I only deal with the dead when I'm revivifying someone. And I'd rather spare the dying than raise the dead." He bit through another cookie, chewed and swallowed, and then asked, "Why?" Z would be impressed. He'd have to remember to tell her that chocolate chip cookies soothed his savage beast.
Caroline shook her head. The clarification meant nothing to her, any more than saying she was Methodist, not Baptist would mean anything to him. She assumed that life clerics healed people. Maybe death clerics were a thing too? "Dr. Butters is a coroner. We don't actually have anyone who specializes on the living. Given how often people show up hurt - or the inevitable part where someone falls off a building or something - it's a pretty big hole." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "We're all stuck here, so it's best to figure out how we can each contribute."
"I've already healed cracked ribs and a severe knee injury," Kash replied almost sourly. For a minute, he'd thought she'd come just because she wanted to. "If you came just to tell me to do what I've trained to do since I was born, you can spare yourself the trouble."
Caroline didn't roll her eyes. She wanted to roll her eyes but she didn't. Because she was a lady, damnit. But her voice did get somewhat sharper around the edges. "I came to say thank you for the flowers," she gestured to the basket of cookies. "Remember? That was five minutes ago. I'm also figuring out what it is you do, because I cannot actually read the minds of every person who shows up. Dr. Butters went weeks before he mentioned that he was a doctor. Weeks. What kind of Hippocratic behavior is that? I've been worrying about what happens when your friend Percy blows himself up in his room and loses an arm. Or if Ignis cuts himself because he's a blind chef! We're trapped, Kash. There's no hospitals. No fancy surgery units. All we have is us. I'm not telling you what to do. I'm telling you that we need your help." By the end of her brief outburst, she was on her feet, face flushed with temper and eyes bright with emotion.
Kash let her vent her spleen because he'd met a woman before. Interrupting one when she had a full head of steam was asking to get burnt, and healer or no, he wasn't looking for that today. When she'd finished, he gave her a minute to catch her breath, and then said, "We went from thanks to marching orders so quick, it skipped my mind," with a wryness that somehow hinted at apology for forgetting. "As for the rest, I don't know Butters to say if he's a hypocrite. People aren't usually comfortable with necromancy." Never mind that he was married to a goddess of death. "He's probably not used to living people letting him work on them. And I already said I'm helping, so the lecture's wasted on me." He bit his tongue instead of asking who died and made her queen, because she was obviously one of the do-gooding types she'd asked him about and there wasn't much point. Instead, he observed, "Seems like you've been sitting on that one for awhile and I'm the lucky asshole that pulled the seat out from under you."
For a moment, Caroline stood still, just breathing. Then she sighed and sat back down. "Yeah, I guess you were." She shook her head. "Let me unpack a little bit, okay? Dr. Butters doesn't do magic, that I know of anyway. It's normal medicine. The Hippocratic Oath is a thing that doctors take when they become doctors. It's like the ethical guidelines for the profession. Starts with 'first, do no harm'. It's named after the guy who came up with it, Hippocrates."
"I'm sorry about yelling. I can be kind of emotional at times." All times. Because vampire. "It feels like the only thing that I can actually do around here is try to coordinate everyone else. So, I get bossy."
Fortunately, Kash wasn't in the mood to discuss the ethics of being a cleric as opposed to being a 'doctor', since harm was one of the things he did best. "And coordinating untrained soldiers is a pain in the ass," he observed with an air of authority and not inconsiderable experience. "Especially when they're suffering from emotional trauma." Like she was, which anyone with an ounce of healing training could see. "Take a breath. Have a cookie. If anyone falls off the roof, I've got it covered."
Caroline looked startled for a moment, then picked up a cookie and, very slowly, smiled. "Do you know I think that's the first time anyone's tried to make me feel better in months?" Of course it was. Caroline was pushy, annoying and persistent. Why would anyone tell her to take a break when what they meant was back the hell off? "Is there anything you need?"
It was a very rare occasion when Kash somehow managed to say the right thing if the subject matter wasn't sieges, so he wasn't about to correct her mistaken impression he'd been trying to make her feel better. Truth was, as soon as she smiled, retroactively, he had been. Sometimes healing was a lot more subtle than mending broken bones. So he shook his head and settled more comfortably against the back of the couch. "Nothing this plane of existence has to offer." Having no way of knowing that he was acting completely counter to contemporary stereotype, Kash handed her the remote. "You choose."
She took the remote and looked at it blankly. "You know, I don't know much more about what was on in the 90s than you do." As she said it, she realized he probably had no idea what she meant. "This whole hotel, it's from 20 years ago in my time. The only thing that's still running from that time period is...Law and Order probably. That'd be the city watch show you mentioned."
Even so, she started flipping through channels, looking for something that she recognized. "What sort of stories do you like?"
Kash listened, pretended he understood (it worked with Keyleth, though not so much Z), and shrugged. "Never gave it much thought." Since that wasn't likely to fly with any woman he'd ever known for as much as five minutes, he added, "Histories. Stuff with normal people living their lives. Maybe mysteries." He knew he didn't like mythologies much, since the heroes tended to beat the gods and while someone else might find that inspirational, Kash just found it inaccurate. Borderline offensive.
Caroline thought about that, and what she knew of TV in this era. Then she hit the menu button, not for the tv, but for the movie selection. "Well, our history isn't going to be your history, so that won't work. But you might like this. It's a movie about this guy who...well, I should just play it. It's based on real life events, a little bit." She selected The Fugitive, which she remembered her dad liking. "I like romances, myself. I'm a drama major though, so I appreciate pretty much any well-told story."
Most of the words she said went together in ways he understood. He even thought he'd cracked the code, and begun to say that he'd like history of this world, too, because it would help him understand important things like what kind of siege weaponry he could expect and so forth, but then she said two words together that he had no context for. "Drama major?"
Caroline didn't understand the question at first, then realized that he probably didn't know anything about the modern university system. "In college," she clarified. "My focus of study is drama. Theatre, film, the performing arts." She waved at the TV. "Acting. Or directing. I haven't really decided. It's a four year course of study, so I still have time to figure that out. Assuming I ever get back home to finish school."
Kash rolled that around in his head for a minute then shook his head. "Strange world. Figures though, if someone came up with this." He jerked his chin at the TV box. "In mine..." Huh. "Actually, we have bard colleges. Guess that'd make you a bard. College of Lore, probably. Gifted at storytelling more than singing."
"I..." Caroline stopped, frowned. She'd heard of the term bard, obviously. Shakespeare for one. And it was an older word for street musicians, she was pretty sure. But the way he said it sounded more than that. "What is it that bards do? Besides act?"
"Sing. Play. Entertain." Kash again thought of Scanlan. He half-smirked as he said, "Annoy the ever-living fuck out of you." Which could apply to Caroline, too, and he hadn't meant to slam her just then. "They use music to make magic that makes them handy in a fight. The best of them do a little bit of everything. Whatever the situation needs."
Except for the music to make magic, Caroline couldn't argue with that. She sighed and leaned back into the sofa cushions. "Well, I was a cheerleader in high school. I guess that's sort of the same thing. Plenty of people find me annoying." Even trying to make it sound light, it still hurt. She was just doing her best to help, most of the time. But even her best friends would have readily agreed with Kash's statement. "I'm not a witch, I can't do magic."
"Bards aren't witches. They draw the power of the--" Kash stopped himself. It didn't matter. She didn't care about that. It was the other thing. "Nothing wrong with putting peoples' hackles up. Usually means you're doing or saying something that needs doing or saying and they've been too blind, lazy, or stupid to do it. Either that or you're not bothering with making nice." The pang in his chest when he recalled conversations with Z actually faded into something like a smile at the memory. "Z says people really, really don't like me. I told her it was fine because I really, really don't like them."
"Is that true? Not liking people, not...what your friend said." Caroline couldn't imagine that. Or...yes, she could. But she didn't understand it. She liked people. She wanted to be liked, almost more than she wanted anything else in the world. "Which, you have at least one person. Z, right? Who is she?"
Kash had been about to challenge her on having to ask, since she'd meant him when he was being his most asshole self, but when she asked about Z, he couldn't. Instead, he told her what he'd worked out when Z asked him the same question. "I'm a healer. I care about people. I don't usually like them. Z... Zahra... she's the person who taught me what it means to love." His voice thickened and his expression all but crumpled. "Z's everything."
Caroline reached out impulsively and put her hand on his arm. Her fingers had barely touched his skin before her better judgment caught up with her and she realized that probably someone like Kash wouldn't like to be touched without permission - and wouldn't welcome it even if he granted it - but jerking her hand away seemed like it would be worse. "She's your girlfriend?"
Flinching mildly, Kash glanced down at her hand where it rested on his scars, then back up at her face. He didn't pull his arm away or say anything about it, because fuck if he was going to let Vesh control his reactions to people a decade and a universe later. "Depends on how much 'girlfriend' means wherever you're from."
"Virginia." That was a clear enough sign for Caroline. She took her hand away and folded it with the other in her lap. No temptation to touch that way. "And it means...the person you're dating, or in a relationship with. Not as intense as marriage but less casual than hooking up and more romantic than being friends. And different than friends with benefits."
"Then no." Kash's shoulders relaxed a little when she took her hand away. "She's not my girlfriend. She's my family, my best friend, and my girlfriend. Like I said. She's everything." Hey, he was doing better. He managed to get through that without feeling like he was going to throw up.
Caroline was an unabashed romantic and that was just about the most romantic thing she'd ever heard. She smiled sympathetically. "I'm sorry she's not here. It definitely is hard enough here without missing the person who means the most on top of it." He had other people that he knew, as far as Caroline was aware, but she also realized that wasn't good enough.
Even harder with people reminding him of it. But Z would swat him if he took it out on Caroline, so he just...didn't. He'd Send to Z later. Tell her he loved her and he missed her. It helped, even if she never heard it. And who knew? Maybe she would this time. "Thanks," he mumbled. "You like this with everyone or am I just lucky?"
"I don't know what you mean by this, but I guess so? Or maybe not. You don't seem annoyed." She shrugged and offered a half-smile to invite him in on the mockery. "I'm not...faking it, if that's what you mean. You're getting the real Caroline." Mostly. Sans some fangs.
"The real Caroline still needs to take a breath or three," Kash decided aloud and then stood up. "I think I still have half a bottle of whiskey. You want a glass?"
She blinked at his back. He was hard to read, taciturn and a little unpredictable. She'd have thought he'd have thrown her out by now. "Um, yeah, that'd be great." It'd take a lot more than a glass to get Caroline to unwind but it certainly wouldn't hurt.
Caroline was the kind of woman who, back home, men would be calling "harpy" and "booty-calling" on alternate turns. Too pretty to pass up, too much to take on. It made him think of stories Z had told him about her life before. Maybe that, or maybe he just missed Z enough that he needed company that didn't know her. Either way, it wasn't going to kill him to be civilized (Z's word, not his) for a little while and give Caroline something to drink. (And have one himself.)
"Here." He handed her the glass and took the moment to study her face for what it might tell him about her.
Caroline took the glass, wrapping the fingers of both hands around it in a loose cage, looking down into the amber liquid like it had answers. "Thank you." Without really thinking about it, she lifted it and took a quick drink. The alcohol burned but she didn't even bat an eye. Once this had been almost overpowering, now it paled in comparison to the punch of fresh blood. She sighed with the familiar and fleeting regret for the life that she'd once had, then raised her eyebrows at Kash, realizing he was watching her. "What?"
Kash shrugged and returned to the couch. As he sat, it occurred to him to wonder if he probably shouldn't have put on a shirt, but that felt like going too far to make her comfortable. "Healer thing," he lied. "Eyes can tell you a lot about health." That was true, though.
She took a sip, then rested the glass on her knee and lifted her chin. Her blue eyes met his squarely, a smile flirting around the edges of her mouth. "Well, what do my eyes tell you, Kash?" His eyes, blue and gold, were startlingly lovely, despite the mismatch. It was not at all hard to hold her gaze on him.
"That you're not hepatic and you're getting the things you need in your diet," he answered very nearly blithely. "The rest." He shrugged. "Things you'd probably rather I didn't know." Since that smile tried so hard to hide it all.
"Shouldn't I be the judge of that? You don't know what I'd rather." He was probably right, but Caroline also was highly aware of what people thought of her. She just had a lot of practice pretending not to notice.
Kash lifted an eyebrow at her. "Do you want to be?" He had no problem telling her what he saw. Discretion was the better part of candor, was all.
"Yes." No hesitation, but she did take another swallow of her drink. It wouldn't be good. He'd have told her without checking first if it was good. Given how cranky he was, he might have told her if it was a little bit bad too. But she had to know. What if he could tell she was a vampire?
Sighing, Kash took a long swallow of his drink. "You're lonely. You're scared. You hide all the time. You'd rather seem mean or hyper than sad. Competence is a refuge you sometimes wish you didn't need." Kash could be daft about people, especially how they interacted with him, but there was nothing wrong with his insight.
In other words, a neurotic control freak on crack. Caroline almost laughed in relief at hearing her worst faults laid bare. Instead, she finished off the liquid in her glass. "You're right. I do wish you didn't know that. But I can't be mad at you for saying true stuff." She held out the empty glass. "Except for the competence. I like being competent. Getting things done is something I can control."
"You like being competent and you like being in control," Kash agreed evenly. "But you wish you didn't have to be in control all of the time." He shrugged and settled back on the couch. "Z's like that sometimes." In the deep dark of the night when it was just the two of them, sometimes she just wanted to know he was there.
He'd declined to take the glass or refill it so she pulled it back into her lap, fingers caging it in a way that almost hid it entirely from view. "Everyone gets tired." But who was there to let take over? Regina? The woman had plenty of leadership experience but her concerns weren't the same as Caroline's. And yeah, maybe the stuff Caroline did wasn't necessary.
No, be honest, Caroline. It wasn't necessary. And the people she used to rely on when that fact got to be too much weren't here. "I manage."
"Maybe you don't need to manage everything all the time." Especially since Kash, among others, had no intention of being 'managed'.
"Maybe. It's always possible I'll grow as a person." Caroline set the glass aside and stood. She smiled brilliantly, clearly dismissing any further introspection. "Anyway, thanks for the flowers. Have a good evening, Kash."
Caroline didn't expect thanks - or apologies - from new arrivals. They were often cranky from being yanked unceremoniously out of their homes and dumped into a kitsch fantasy land of a prison. It was hard to hold a little bad temper against them, given the circumstances. Kash hadn't been all that much worse than any others, but he was definitely the first to actually say he was sorry for it. Even if he did drop the goods and run without so much as a word.
However, it was an opening and Caroline wasn't averse to making use of it. She gave him some time first - he seemed like the sort who could use it and she had to sort out his schedule anyway - then made her way to his room one evening. He usually spent them alone, which made this a convenient time to drop by. A basket swung from her wrist as she rapped on the door.
Already settled for the evening -- exercise done, dinner eaten, Vox Machina off being Vox Machina, second Sending to Z accomplished and failed -- Kash had stripped off the pink "tank top" that satisfied whatever passed for standards of decency in the Madonna Inn and parked himself on the "couch." He'd worked out the "remote" by accidentally turning on the picture box (and narrowly avoiding having to use the "phone" to get help turning it off), and now "flipped channels" to see what was "on." Whatever that meant.
The knock at the door drew a surly look that was pure reflex. He pushed the down arrow on the "remote" to make the box quieter. "If this involves assassins or dragons, I'm not here," he called through the door, using thaumaturgy to amplify his voice.
Well, at least she was pretty sure that cranky was a default setting and not just part of new arrival stress. "It doesn't involve either. Can I come in? It's Caroline."
Caroline? What'd he done to provoke her this time? Sighing, Kash rubbed a hand over his face and stood, then tossed the remote to the couch. Instead of calling through the door again, he just walked over and opened it. "If this is about the pool, talk to de Rolo."
"The pool?" Caroline asked blankly, then took in the full...shirtlessness in front of her. Wow. Father What-a-Waste. She dragged her eyes back up to his face with effort and slapped on her best friendly neighborhood cheerleader smile. "Um, no. I actually just stopped by to thank you for the flowers and to bring you these." She held up the basket.
"On Vax's..." he'd begun to say but stopped at the full-on stare. "You know what, never mind." He followed her gaze to his chest and then lifted his back to her face. He almost asked. But that, too, never mind. She'd tell him if he was being rude. Then he'd decide if he cared. He might, if those were what he thought they -- he inhaled -- they were. "Thanks." It almost merited full enthusiasm.
For anything less than chocolate chip, he probably would've thanked her and shut the door. Chocolate chip, though... "Any chance you brought milk, too?" he asked from over his shoulder, since he'd already turned away to make space on a small end table for the basket.
Caroline remained standing in the doorway, unable to cross the threshold until she had permission. But it did give her a chance to ogle his back, which looked just as good as the front view. Plenty of scars, though, especially on his arms. She wondered what the story was there. "No, I didn't think to bring milk too." She'd figured it would be even odds he'd slam the door in her face, after all, and hadn't wanted to waste the groceries.
"Too bad." Since he'd already picked up a cookie and taken a bite, he even forgot to snarl about it. He gestured at her with the cookie-hand, very nearly smiling. "Might as well come in. These are great." Different than the ones the pretty baker girl made but still great. "I was just 'flipping channels'."
She breathed a sigh of relief and stepped forward. "Is there anything good on? I tried for about ten minutes one time but then I remembered the 90s were a wasteland TV wise." The cookies were still warm, so they quickly filled the room with their scent.
Kash gave her a look, a cross between the hell were those words you just made? and you're asking me? and the blankness probably not improved by the cookie half in-half out of his mouth. He broke it off, chewed, swallowed and finally managed, "Blonde chick running around staking vampires like they're that easy to kill, bunch of talking slaad that are supposed to be dinosaurs, governess with a voice like torture in hell, and the city watch doing a decent job of tracking killers."
Caroline's automatic flinch was mostly controlled. Staking vampires was a touchy subject with her. She folded her arms and tried to look nonchalant. "Yeah, those all sound pretty awful. Not that I have any idea what a slaad is, but I'm guessing they're...lizardy?"
"Creations of prime magic. Evil. A bitch to kill," Kash said like he was reciting something he'd memorized, while he sat and gestured for her to join him if she wanted. Something he'd said, maybe about vampires or killing, had made her flinch. He felt like kind of a dick, since for once, he hadn't been trying to shove her away. "Think bipedal frogs with six-inch claws."
"This is where I make a joke about my exes." Whether she meant evil, a bitch to kill, or frog-like was unclear. She smiled, just a little forced, and took a seat on his sofa. "Is that something you do? Kill evil magical creatures? I didn't really get a chance to learn much about you when you arrived. How are you, by the way? Did Dr Butters help?"
"This is where I don't even joke about mine." Kash didn't shudder, but it was a near thing. He forced his attention to Caroline, away from Vesh, which worked out fine, since they were very nearly opposite in every way. He pushed the mute button on the remote and then waggled his hand. "I kill shit when I get paid to or when it's trying to destroy the world. Otherwise, I'm a healer. So, no. Butters didn't help. He offered, but I had it."
She didn't have her notebook on her; she'd have to update it later. "Oh. Well. I'm glad you're okay. I was worried when you just ran off still bleeding. That's not usually a recipe for a long and prosperous life." Caroline picked up a cookie and broke it in half. "What does it mean, being a healer in your world? Are you a doctor like Dr Butters or ...you're a priest of some kind, right?" Vampire ears were good for eavesdropping and she was almost certain that she'd heard Percy mention something like that at some point.
"Yeah. Sorry about that." He was, actually. She'd been nice in her bossy way. "We'd just taken down the Cinder King and suddenly I was here. I was more worried about the bitch green dragon that took off on us than me bleeding out." In a way, that was actually an answer to her question, but he didn't figure she'd realize that. "That's kind of what a cleric does. Fights evil shit, fosters life, heals people. Technically I can do rituals but it's not my bag of tricks."
Oh, one of those kinds of people. A Tyler or a Stefan, not a Damon or a Klaus. The sort who would suffer for others without thought. The green dragon, Caroline knew, was the reason Percy had shown up looking two seconds from dead. "You sound like some kind of supernatural do-gooder," she suggested.
"Blame Vox Machina for that." And Z, and the people of Whitestone. And Vesh in her way. "Lately it's been more city defense, siege-breaking and taking back our cities than adventuring. Suits me better than getting all up in strangers' business." Blame Z and the lot for that, too. Reminding him, or maybe straight up teaching him, that he preferred having his own patch of ground to protect, even if he'd go wherever he had to to fight Vesh.
Caroline nibbled on her cookie, thinking about that. "So you like helping but not doing the public interfacing part. Except that you also do medicine, so there's a little bit of patient interaction there. Or are you like Dr Butters and you only want to deal with them after they're dead?" It would make a difference to how often she forc...ahem, asked him to provide health services to the hotel guests.
"Life cleric," Kash said again, his voice expectant, like she was asking a dumb question. "I only deal with the dead when I'm revivifying someone. And I'd rather spare the dying than raise the dead." He bit through another cookie, chewed and swallowed, and then asked, "Why?" Z would be impressed. He'd have to remember to tell her that chocolate chip cookies soothed his savage beast.
Caroline shook her head. The clarification meant nothing to her, any more than saying she was Methodist, not Baptist would mean anything to him. She assumed that life clerics healed people. Maybe death clerics were a thing too? "Dr. Butters is a coroner. We don't actually have anyone who specializes on the living. Given how often people show up hurt - or the inevitable part where someone falls off a building or something - it's a pretty big hole." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "We're all stuck here, so it's best to figure out how we can each contribute."
"I've already healed cracked ribs and a severe knee injury," Kash replied almost sourly. For a minute, he'd thought she'd come just because she wanted to. "If you came just to tell me to do what I've trained to do since I was born, you can spare yourself the trouble."
Caroline didn't roll her eyes. She wanted to roll her eyes but she didn't. Because she was a lady, damnit. But her voice did get somewhat sharper around the edges. "I came to say thank you for the flowers," she gestured to the basket of cookies. "Remember? That was five minutes ago. I'm also figuring out what it is you do, because I cannot actually read the minds of every person who shows up. Dr. Butters went weeks before he mentioned that he was a doctor. Weeks. What kind of Hippocratic behavior is that? I've been worrying about what happens when your friend Percy blows himself up in his room and loses an arm. Or if Ignis cuts himself because he's a blind chef! We're trapped, Kash. There's no hospitals. No fancy surgery units. All we have is us. I'm not telling you what to do. I'm telling you that we need your help." By the end of her brief outburst, she was on her feet, face flushed with temper and eyes bright with emotion.
Kash let her vent her spleen because he'd met a woman before. Interrupting one when she had a full head of steam was asking to get burnt, and healer or no, he wasn't looking for that today. When she'd finished, he gave her a minute to catch her breath, and then said, "We went from thanks to marching orders so quick, it skipped my mind," with a wryness that somehow hinted at apology for forgetting. "As for the rest, I don't know Butters to say if he's a hypocrite. People aren't usually comfortable with necromancy." Never mind that he was married to a goddess of death. "He's probably not used to living people letting him work on them. And I already said I'm helping, so the lecture's wasted on me." He bit his tongue instead of asking who died and made her queen, because she was obviously one of the do-gooding types she'd asked him about and there wasn't much point. Instead, he observed, "Seems like you've been sitting on that one for awhile and I'm the lucky asshole that pulled the seat out from under you."
For a moment, Caroline stood still, just breathing. Then she sighed and sat back down. "Yeah, I guess you were." She shook her head. "Let me unpack a little bit, okay? Dr. Butters doesn't do magic, that I know of anyway. It's normal medicine. The Hippocratic Oath is a thing that doctors take when they become doctors. It's like the ethical guidelines for the profession. Starts with 'first, do no harm'. It's named after the guy who came up with it, Hippocrates."
"I'm sorry about yelling. I can be kind of emotional at times." All times. Because vampire. "It feels like the only thing that I can actually do around here is try to coordinate everyone else. So, I get bossy."
Fortunately, Kash wasn't in the mood to discuss the ethics of being a cleric as opposed to being a 'doctor', since harm was one of the things he did best. "And coordinating untrained soldiers is a pain in the ass," he observed with an air of authority and not inconsiderable experience. "Especially when they're suffering from emotional trauma." Like she was, which anyone with an ounce of healing training could see. "Take a breath. Have a cookie. If anyone falls off the roof, I've got it covered."
Caroline looked startled for a moment, then picked up a cookie and, very slowly, smiled. "Do you know I think that's the first time anyone's tried to make me feel better in months?" Of course it was. Caroline was pushy, annoying and persistent. Why would anyone tell her to take a break when what they meant was back the hell off? "Is there anything you need?"
It was a very rare occasion when Kash somehow managed to say the right thing if the subject matter wasn't sieges, so he wasn't about to correct her mistaken impression he'd been trying to make her feel better. Truth was, as soon as she smiled, retroactively, he had been. Sometimes healing was a lot more subtle than mending broken bones. So he shook his head and settled more comfortably against the back of the couch. "Nothing this plane of existence has to offer." Having no way of knowing that he was acting completely counter to contemporary stereotype, Kash handed her the remote. "You choose."
She took the remote and looked at it blankly. "You know, I don't know much more about what was on in the 90s than you do." As she said it, she realized he probably had no idea what she meant. "This whole hotel, it's from 20 years ago in my time. The only thing that's still running from that time period is...Law and Order probably. That'd be the city watch show you mentioned."
Even so, she started flipping through channels, looking for something that she recognized. "What sort of stories do you like?"
Kash listened, pretended he understood (it worked with Keyleth, though not so much Z), and shrugged. "Never gave it much thought." Since that wasn't likely to fly with any woman he'd ever known for as much as five minutes, he added, "Histories. Stuff with normal people living their lives. Maybe mysteries." He knew he didn't like mythologies much, since the heroes tended to beat the gods and while someone else might find that inspirational, Kash just found it inaccurate. Borderline offensive.
Caroline thought about that, and what she knew of TV in this era. Then she hit the menu button, not for the tv, but for the movie selection. "Well, our history isn't going to be your history, so that won't work. But you might like this. It's a movie about this guy who...well, I should just play it. It's based on real life events, a little bit." She selected The Fugitive, which she remembered her dad liking. "I like romances, myself. I'm a drama major though, so I appreciate pretty much any well-told story."
Most of the words she said went together in ways he understood. He even thought he'd cracked the code, and begun to say that he'd like history of this world, too, because it would help him understand important things like what kind of siege weaponry he could expect and so forth, but then she said two words together that he had no context for. "Drama major?"
Caroline didn't understand the question at first, then realized that he probably didn't know anything about the modern university system. "In college," she clarified. "My focus of study is drama. Theatre, film, the performing arts." She waved at the TV. "Acting. Or directing. I haven't really decided. It's a four year course of study, so I still have time to figure that out. Assuming I ever get back home to finish school."
Kash rolled that around in his head for a minute then shook his head. "Strange world. Figures though, if someone came up with this." He jerked his chin at the TV box. "In mine..." Huh. "Actually, we have bard colleges. Guess that'd make you a bard. College of Lore, probably. Gifted at storytelling more than singing."
"I..." Caroline stopped, frowned. She'd heard of the term bard, obviously. Shakespeare for one. And it was an older word for street musicians, she was pretty sure. But the way he said it sounded more than that. "What is it that bards do? Besides act?"
"Sing. Play. Entertain." Kash again thought of Scanlan. He half-smirked as he said, "Annoy the ever-living fuck out of you." Which could apply to Caroline, too, and he hadn't meant to slam her just then. "They use music to make magic that makes them handy in a fight. The best of them do a little bit of everything. Whatever the situation needs."
Except for the music to make magic, Caroline couldn't argue with that. She sighed and leaned back into the sofa cushions. "Well, I was a cheerleader in high school. I guess that's sort of the same thing. Plenty of people find me annoying." Even trying to make it sound light, it still hurt. She was just doing her best to help, most of the time. But even her best friends would have readily agreed with Kash's statement. "I'm not a witch, I can't do magic."
"Bards aren't witches. They draw the power of the--" Kash stopped himself. It didn't matter. She didn't care about that. It was the other thing. "Nothing wrong with putting peoples' hackles up. Usually means you're doing or saying something that needs doing or saying and they've been too blind, lazy, or stupid to do it. Either that or you're not bothering with making nice." The pang in his chest when he recalled conversations with Z actually faded into something like a smile at the memory. "Z says people really, really don't like me. I told her it was fine because I really, really don't like them."
"Is that true? Not liking people, not...what your friend said." Caroline couldn't imagine that. Or...yes, she could. But she didn't understand it. She liked people. She wanted to be liked, almost more than she wanted anything else in the world. "Which, you have at least one person. Z, right? Who is she?"
Kash had been about to challenge her on having to ask, since she'd meant him when he was being his most asshole self, but when she asked about Z, he couldn't. Instead, he told her what he'd worked out when Z asked him the same question. "I'm a healer. I care about people. I don't usually like them. Z... Zahra... she's the person who taught me what it means to love." His voice thickened and his expression all but crumpled. "Z's everything."
Caroline reached out impulsively and put her hand on his arm. Her fingers had barely touched his skin before her better judgment caught up with her and she realized that probably someone like Kash wouldn't like to be touched without permission - and wouldn't welcome it even if he granted it - but jerking her hand away seemed like it would be worse. "She's your girlfriend?"
Flinching mildly, Kash glanced down at her hand where it rested on his scars, then back up at her face. He didn't pull his arm away or say anything about it, because fuck if he was going to let Vesh control his reactions to people a decade and a universe later. "Depends on how much 'girlfriend' means wherever you're from."
"Virginia." That was a clear enough sign for Caroline. She took her hand away and folded it with the other in her lap. No temptation to touch that way. "And it means...the person you're dating, or in a relationship with. Not as intense as marriage but less casual than hooking up and more romantic than being friends. And different than friends with benefits."
"Then no." Kash's shoulders relaxed a little when she took her hand away. "She's not my girlfriend. She's my family, my best friend, and my girlfriend. Like I said. She's everything." Hey, he was doing better. He managed to get through that without feeling like he was going to throw up.
Caroline was an unabashed romantic and that was just about the most romantic thing she'd ever heard. She smiled sympathetically. "I'm sorry she's not here. It definitely is hard enough here without missing the person who means the most on top of it." He had other people that he knew, as far as Caroline was aware, but she also realized that wasn't good enough.
Even harder with people reminding him of it. But Z would swat him if he took it out on Caroline, so he just...didn't. He'd Send to Z later. Tell her he loved her and he missed her. It helped, even if she never heard it. And who knew? Maybe she would this time. "Thanks," he mumbled. "You like this with everyone or am I just lucky?"
"I don't know what you mean by this, but I guess so? Or maybe not. You don't seem annoyed." She shrugged and offered a half-smile to invite him in on the mockery. "I'm not...faking it, if that's what you mean. You're getting the real Caroline." Mostly. Sans some fangs.
"The real Caroline still needs to take a breath or three," Kash decided aloud and then stood up. "I think I still have half a bottle of whiskey. You want a glass?"
She blinked at his back. He was hard to read, taciturn and a little unpredictable. She'd have thought he'd have thrown her out by now. "Um, yeah, that'd be great." It'd take a lot more than a glass to get Caroline to unwind but it certainly wouldn't hurt.
Caroline was the kind of woman who, back home, men would be calling "harpy" and "booty-calling" on alternate turns. Too pretty to pass up, too much to take on. It made him think of stories Z had told him about her life before. Maybe that, or maybe he just missed Z enough that he needed company that didn't know her. Either way, it wasn't going to kill him to be civilized (Z's word, not his) for a little while and give Caroline something to drink. (And have one himself.)
"Here." He handed her the glass and took the moment to study her face for what it might tell him about her.
Caroline took the glass, wrapping the fingers of both hands around it in a loose cage, looking down into the amber liquid like it had answers. "Thank you." Without really thinking about it, she lifted it and took a quick drink. The alcohol burned but she didn't even bat an eye. Once this had been almost overpowering, now it paled in comparison to the punch of fresh blood. She sighed with the familiar and fleeting regret for the life that she'd once had, then raised her eyebrows at Kash, realizing he was watching her. "What?"
Kash shrugged and returned to the couch. As he sat, it occurred to him to wonder if he probably shouldn't have put on a shirt, but that felt like going too far to make her comfortable. "Healer thing," he lied. "Eyes can tell you a lot about health." That was true, though.
She took a sip, then rested the glass on her knee and lifted her chin. Her blue eyes met his squarely, a smile flirting around the edges of her mouth. "Well, what do my eyes tell you, Kash?" His eyes, blue and gold, were startlingly lovely, despite the mismatch. It was not at all hard to hold her gaze on him.
"That you're not hepatic and you're getting the things you need in your diet," he answered very nearly blithely. "The rest." He shrugged. "Things you'd probably rather I didn't know." Since that smile tried so hard to hide it all.
"Shouldn't I be the judge of that? You don't know what I'd rather." He was probably right, but Caroline also was highly aware of what people thought of her. She just had a lot of practice pretending not to notice.
Kash lifted an eyebrow at her. "Do you want to be?" He had no problem telling her what he saw. Discretion was the better part of candor, was all.
"Yes." No hesitation, but she did take another swallow of her drink. It wouldn't be good. He'd have told her without checking first if it was good. Given how cranky he was, he might have told her if it was a little bit bad too. But she had to know. What if he could tell she was a vampire?
Sighing, Kash took a long swallow of his drink. "You're lonely. You're scared. You hide all the time. You'd rather seem mean or hyper than sad. Competence is a refuge you sometimes wish you didn't need." Kash could be daft about people, especially how they interacted with him, but there was nothing wrong with his insight.
In other words, a neurotic control freak on crack. Caroline almost laughed in relief at hearing her worst faults laid bare. Instead, she finished off the liquid in her glass. "You're right. I do wish you didn't know that. But I can't be mad at you for saying true stuff." She held out the empty glass. "Except for the competence. I like being competent. Getting things done is something I can control."
"You like being competent and you like being in control," Kash agreed evenly. "But you wish you didn't have to be in control all of the time." He shrugged and settled back on the couch. "Z's like that sometimes." In the deep dark of the night when it was just the two of them, sometimes she just wanted to know he was there.
He'd declined to take the glass or refill it so she pulled it back into her lap, fingers caging it in a way that almost hid it entirely from view. "Everyone gets tired." But who was there to let take over? Regina? The woman had plenty of leadership experience but her concerns weren't the same as Caroline's. And yeah, maybe the stuff Caroline did wasn't necessary.
No, be honest, Caroline. It wasn't necessary. And the people she used to rely on when that fact got to be too much weren't here. "I manage."
"Maybe you don't need to manage everything all the time." Especially since Kash, among others, had no intention of being 'managed'.
"Maybe. It's always possible I'll grow as a person." Caroline set the glass aside and stood. She smiled brilliantly, clearly dismissing any further introspection. "Anyway, thanks for the flowers. Have a good evening, Kash."
