2goodarms | [Daemon AU] first meetings, revisited

[Daemon AU] first meetings, revisited

They've been here...he isn't sure how long. A couple days, maybe. Someone took him to the infirmary to bandage his arm and clean up the cuts littering his face and hand; unthinking, the doctor tried to shoo Joanna away, and -- taboo be damned -- they were so furious that she almost sunk her teeth into his arm.

(Joanna wasn't supposed to be here at all after the explosion ripped them apart. Like hell is anyone going to separate them, even if only by a measure of two feet.)

She would've gone for his daemon, but barely anybody here seems to have a daemon. A low-level horror built up around them like radio static when they realized what they were seeing. But all the daemon-less people act like nothing's wrong. It's not intercision -- their daemons don't exist at all, like they're hidden so deep inside them that they'll never be born. To most of Milliways, Curtis and Joanna are the bizarre ones.

It's almost enough for him to stop noticing how relaxed everyone is. How nice the bar is. How it's like someone picked up the entire Front and dropped it into a single room, with everything anyone could ever want, no questions asked, no payment necessary.

Almost.

For now, they're sticking to a couch by the fireplace, Joanna curled tight in Curtis' lap as they watch the bar in silence.

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Iudaan rolls so he can give Joanna the full force of his upside down adorable face.

"I was wondering if, anyone might have offered to make you a prosthesis? Something to replace your arm. So you could have two hands again."

...it is a remarkably adorable face.

Still, Curtis goes quiet for a long moment, and Joanna doesn't move save a brief flick of her tail. She's gone back to flexing her claws against the floor -- not nervous enough to dig or scratch, but still uncertain, not wholly comfortable.

"No," says Curtis at last. "The doc who patched me up said I could get one if I wanted, but..."

Joanna sighs, but refrains from adding any further commentary.

"... I would like to. Without asking anything in return. On my honor. Just as -- a gift."

Curtis rubs his hand across his mouth, casting his gaze to the bartop.

"It's not just the gift thing," he manages, determined to say this rather than leave it to Joanna. "Let me -- let us think about it?"

"Oh yes, absolutely." "Of course." They speak simultaneously.

"But I'd like to make you one, not acquire it for you. So it could be made precisely to your specifications."

"But not unless you want us to." Iudaan rights himself and lays his head down, nose to nose with Joanna again. "And if you don't, that's all right, too. We'd just like to see you again."

"Iudaan!"

"What?"

Joanna lifts her head, eyes wide.

"Why?" asks Curtis before he can stop himself.

"Because of your irresistible charm and wit, of course," Iudaan says. "Also, the fact that you could take chunks out of my hide, but you haven't yet. We like that about you."

"I am so sorry," Dejah says. "It's just been a long time since we've had anyone to talk with. And you're interesting."

"Not that interesting," mutters Curtis, halfhearted, but Joanna -- as always -- gives him away: she lets out a surprised, throaty chuckle, gone almost as fast as it arrives.

"Real honey badgers used to attack shit three times their size," she agrees. "You ever seen a lion?"

"I've read about them," Dejah says, her eyes brightening a bit.

"And we've hunted banth before, so we're familiar."

"You mean banth have hunted us before."

"Same difference," Iudaan says, his tony dry. He extends a paw towards Joanna. "Sounds like honey badgers are good friends to have."

The tiny ghost of a smile returns to Curtis' lips.

On the floor, Joanna eyes the offered paw -- then chuffs out a breath and meets it with her own. "Yeah, okay," she says.

Dejah's face blossoms in a broad, guileless smile.

"You think about the other. I keep rooms here and I think we'll be staying a few days this time."

Iudaan flares his whiskers in a sorak grin of his own. "We spend a lot of time in the gym, so if you don't see us here, check there. Or leave a note with the bar. She'll find us eventually."

"Yeah?" A tiny flare of curiosity ignites. "Where's the gym at?"

Joanna's perked up a bit, too, pushing herself straighter as she watches Iudaan.

"It's just down the hall from the infirmary. You can hear the weights clanging, usually. They have quite the set up. I can show you? I mean, if you like. Later."

Iudaan watches Joanna just as intently, and gives her a little wink. Cheeky as the day is long.

She rolls her eyes, but huffs out another laugh to go with it.

"Later's good," he says, as Joanna leans forward to bump noses with Iudaan. Later means they'll get to see each other again. He's...weirdly okay with that, despite all of Dejah's Front trappings.

Iudaan holds perfectly still as they touch noses, his subtle smile radiant. "Until later, then," he purrs.

"All right," Dejah says, a touch more awkwardly. "We'll see you later."

Iudaan rises and levitates to the bar again, his motions as fluid as water. He stalks right up until he's almost nose to nose with Curtis, whiskers flared wide. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Come on, Iudaan. We'll see you later."

Instinctively, Curtis leans back to put more space between himself and Dejah's daemon. He's still smiling, though, faint but genuine.

"See you later," he echoes, as Joanna chimes in with a, "Bye," of her own.

A few days later, Iudaan enters through the front door and Dejah follows close behind. Iudaan does a full body shake that starts at his head and travels down his withers, shedding a cloud of red dust as he does. Dejah's hair is down and wind-blown, and her clothes are far more rough this time. She's still in skirts though.

"Do you think they're still here?"

"I hope they are, but Iudaan, we should really just wait -- until they leave a note or something. I don't want to seem too eager."

"But they're interesting. And you have to admit, under that hat, he's really quite --"

"Please, don't start with that again. We have far more important things to worry about than courting."

Iudaan sniffs, his head swivelling as he scans the crowd. "You have strange priorities sometimes, Dejah. Strange priorities."

Filtering through the din of the bar:

"...can get water in our room," a familiar, gravelly voice says. Joanna rounds the corner leading to the stairwell; Curtis appears a step behind, rubbing at his face with a towel. No layers this time: in fact, all he's wearing is a sweat-soaked undershirt and a pair of pants. Without the bulk of his clothes, Curtis looks startlingly thin, more bone than muscle.

"Yeah, I know," he says.

His daemon presses, "And our room has a bunk. You know? That soft horizontal thing you sleep on when you're tired?"

Curtis lets out a weary snort and nudges her with the toe of one boot. "Shut the fuck up," he says, his exhaustion not masking any of the affection. "We'll sleep after -- "

He breaks off as Joanna catches sight of Iudaan. If she had bigger ears, they'd be perking up right now.

Iudaan hasn't spotted them yet, and Dejah isn't paying attention. She's dragging a hand through her hair, trying to make it look somewhat presentable. No, not at all because she might run into him again. Why would you think that?

"Oh I'm sorry," Dejah says, "Priorities like running a city? Keeping peace in the clans? Running the academy? Terraforming a whole planet? You mean like those kinds of priorities?"

"Yes, you're very busy and very important, this is not in dispute. But that doesn't mean you have to live like a Priestess of Iss does it? You're still a woman. You have needs."

"Iudaan, all I need anymore is a pot of tea and maybe a slice of cake. Add in a good book and I am quite content."

"That's thoatshit and you know it." Iudaan's voice is affectionate, but still holds an edge. And then he spots Joanna and his eyes light up. The sorak's whiskers flare wide and his ears perk up. Every line of his body radiates a kind of lightness, a pure guileless joy.

Dejah's head turns and her own smile is a touch more shy. She raises a hand and waves.

Joanna grins, bounds forward -- and slams into the end of their link. She stops where he is, a tiny, frustrated growl perched in the back of her throat, until Curtis catches up. And so they move: daemon rushing forward in two-foot increments, human following at a more sedate (well, more weary) pace.

He slings the towel over his good shoulder and returns the wave. "Hey," he says, a touch out of breath still.

Iudaan sees Joanna in that short-legged bound and he crouches and leaps. He covers half the distance between them, lands and spins to see if Dejah is following. She is. Her lips quirk in a tiny little grin. She closes the distance as Iudaan slides in, flattening himself so he comes nose to nose with Joanna. He chuffs a low sound, a happy sound and his tail swishes from side to side.

"You look well," she says, glancing between Joanna and Curtis. It's not that much of a lie. "How've you been?"

"Good," he says, as Joanna happily bumps noses with Iudaan. "We were up in the gym."

"There's so much stuff there." Joanna sounds like she's caught between awe and jealousy.

"How about you two?"

"We were supposed to be on expedition today but a sand storm blew up. We got tired of waiting in the tents, so we came here looking for you," Iudaan says. He has to get low to the ground to manage it, but he side swipes Joanna with his entire body, from face to tail. This close, she can hear the low rumble of his purr.

Dejah's cheeks color at his display, but she doesn't say anything. "There is a lot of equipment up there. I don't mind using the mats to train sword or staff, but the rest of it, it's a bit," she wrinkles her nose. "Excessive."

So much metal wasted on weights and silly contraptions that replicate exercises easily done with one's own body.

"Care to join us for some water?"

A weird cognitive dissonance bubbles up, hearing her lament something as excessive when her poise still makes Curtis and Joanna think Front. Joanna leans into Iudaan as he passes by, humming softly; Curtis chances a lopsided smile as he says, "Sure, yeah."

Which is about when some dust goes up Joanna's nose, and she sneezes hard enough to make Curtis jump with residual shock.

"Oh goodness," Iudaan drawls, turning sharply. "I'm so sorry. It gets everywhere. There's nothing one can do."

Dejah's hand lights on Curtis's side. "Are you all right?"

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