Room for One More? (E 1.5, L 1.6)

Location: The Roost
Time: afternoon

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Litch,

After arriving at The Roost in the wee hours of the morning, you found a place for Edmund to sleep before heading to bed with Kes. Who did Edmund have to share a room with? Mynah wasn't waiting for the two of you. In fact, you heard her still up in her workshop, unable to sleep. Kes, though, nodded off fast.

What does a typical morning with the Talons look like, Litch? What chores does the gang have? Do you hunt food or buy it? Do you grow a garden here or is the area not suitable?

I am often the first to rise every morning. This time, though I give my body a break. Kestrel rose at her usual time to help prepare breakfast. Everyone pitches in for food. Merlin does most of the fishing, Javan sets the traps, and Mynah purchases what we cannot get for ourselves. Kestrel and the kids all cook and season the food. Nobody lets Jackdaw help; he's an awful cook.

Breakfast has been prepared and sent up to me. A bit of river trout and eggs, likely purchased earlier this week. It's seasoned with herbs we manage to grow on the rooftop where there is enough sunshine. It's delicious. I rise to eat, then stride over to a mirror to shave the thick stubble growing on my jaw with a straight razor and a badger brush - a small luxury I allow myself. Truthfully, I'd prefer Mynah to do the shaving, but I'm not going to interrupt the work flow of someone who rose before the sun did while I slept.

After my morning ritual of preparing for the new day, I head toward the stairs, down to find Edmund and see if my bandages need to be changed. Poor fellow had to bunk next to Jack. The stipulation for getting the largest private quarters was that he had to share it with any guests who stayed with us. I doubt Jackdaw minds it. Those who stay with him are the ones who lodge complaints. Poor sods. I think Jack talks himself to sleep.

I stop over near Shrike's quarters before heading to check on the Butler. I knock softly on the wall next to the curtain hanging over the entrance, in case Aloe too is sleeping. "Shrike, are you in there?"

Edmund,

You rode back to The Roost on the back of Kestrel's jet ski and arrived a few hours before sunrise. Litch led you to a large room with Jackdaw. How do you get along with the boisterous and self-confident Jackdaw? Do you enjoy his stories and jests, or does he annoy you like he does Litch?

The bedroll Jackdaw rolled out for you and the blankets he provided were surprisingly comfortable, but the nighttime sounds of The Roost made it hard to relax. You catch a few winks of sleep before the smell of breakfast tickles your nostrils and Jackdaw wakes you as he hums some "morning song" that he's probably making up.

What do you do?

The ride to The Roost was atypical and a little awkward. Atypical in the sense that I’ve never ridden on such a small and fast craft; and awkward in the sense that it appears Kestrel has access to an entirely different set of sensibilities and expertise than I do. Aside from instructing me to, "Get on and hold onto something," she was taciturn.

The only words I was able to find for her were, "Thank you," as I slid onto the small craft behind her. I also said, "I’m sorry," while we were in open waters. I thought I spoke loudly enough to carry to her, but she made no indication the words found her.

When we reached the dock she simply moored, said something to Litch and went her own way.

Litch kindly showed me to a room occupied by a man named Jackdaw, then departed. Jackdaw quickly prepared a bedroll set out for me. Meanwhile, I slip out of my trousers, vest and button-up. Folding the vest over the gun and knife. The pants will be fine for a little while, but without access to the facilities I’ve been accustomed to, I’m sure I won’t be able to get the blood out of my dress shirt. I’ll deal with that at a later time. Resigned after a minute or two I slip into the bedroll.

"I appreciate your preparing this for me, as well as being gracious enough to host me without complaint." Between the sounds of the water so near, the novel feel of the bedroll, and the chaotic events of the night - true rest eludes me even though I dip in and out of wakefulness.

I’m roused by the scent of food and unique tune that Jackdaw is humming. I’m curious if he is like this all the time. It reminds me of the twins back at Princy’s. I hope they are all managing well.

"Good morning Mister Jackdaw. I hope you had a good night. I’m sorry for intruding as I did." I saw while stretching and working a new kink out of my neck. "An interesting tune you have," I smile at him, "Is it special to you?"

"Just wanted to check in on the little one. See if she need anything? Or...if you do?" I lean my shoulder against the wall casually and add. "Don't think Mynah will truly be ok until things are made right. But I think she's doing what she must to take care of herself."

I sigh and run a hand through my hair, which hangs loosely on my shoulders. I don't often wear head coverings inside of the basilica. It seems disrespectful to the memories of those who worshipped here before. Though I don't hold anyone else to my compulsion in this regard. "Not everyone can remove their pain with either prayer or direct action. We all have our own ways of dealing with it. I..." I'm about to reveal more, but it wouldn't be proper. My family needs my strength and clear vision.

Instead I say, "I brought Princy's man here to stay for a few days. He's something of a fugitive, so I've granted him sanctuary. He's staying with Jack in case you wanted to see him."

In the tower, I would have to be tenacious about correcting his way of addressing me. Here however, I have no reason to keep up pretences. Besides, Headmund is one I haven't heard before.

"Should I be concerned about being on the menu?" I banter playfully with the charismatic man as he resumes humming his ode to human consumption.

"I'll pass on the drink for now, though I may take you up on it at another time." It appears he is holding a bottle of Keeper's Heart - a local branch of Irish American distillery said to be submerged somewhere relatively near. The label is nowhere to be seen, but the bottle is easy enough to identify - and that's assuming it bears its original contents. Regardless, I'd be happy to have some at a later hour.

"About any future debts you hope to collect from me - you may be unpleasantly surprised at how very little I have to offer outside of thoughtful discussion." As I say it, the realization of how utterly little I have in this world sets in. I can hold my possessions in a single hand. "You wouldn't happen to have a tub I could wash my shirt in? It would be nice to try to get some blood out." I slip back into my trousers and put my vest on over my knife harness and undershirt.

"If you don't mind, I'd be interested in hearing your story. How did you come to be a member of the Talons?" I briefly check the bullet placement in the revolver's cylinder before locking it back into place, not making any particular efforts to hide the weapon. As far as I'm concerned, my world was ripped away from me last night. I may have thought that would make me cling to what little I have even more - but it seems quite the contrary.

"I don't know." I reply honestly. "I near killed the man hunting him. Left him bleeding on the Tower docks." I leave out the part where one of Kamae's drones shot me. I shrug. "If he survives, I suppose there could be trouble. But I owed Edmund a favor after he helped us out." My phrasing is intentional. Edmund saving Shrike's life was a favor to the entire family, but I also know that she doesn't like to be reminded of her moment of need.

"Someone tried to assassinate Princy and Eddie got framed for it. Wrong place at the wrong time." I gaze into her eyes, observing the fear she tries to keep hidden. I push myself off of the wall and rest both of my hands on her shoulders. "I won't let anything happen to her, sister." I reassure her, using a formal title of address. "She is also a part of us, for as long as she wills it."

"All have purpose, Shrike." Our shared moment of vulnerability is sweet, yet blessedly short. My circle of trust is bigger than hers, but it's still small. And there are things that need to get done. "Walk with me." I say as I turn away from her room to continue on my path to Jackdaw's room. "Jack's planning to use the Shark Eaters to retrieve our treasures. One of them will attempt to steal from us. I need you to not kill them on the spot when this happens."

Though she is only a few years older than my kids, I trust Shrike to keep my confidences completely. What I don't have the utmost faith in is her ability to control her anger when anyone she cares about is double-crossed or put in danger. Shrike is the consumate defender, our holy warrior. I know full-well that what I am asking her will be challenging. "There may be opportunity enough for that later. But I need you to trust me on this."

Litch and Edmund,
The two of you meet in the hallway moments later, right outside the bathroom closest to Jackdaw's. Jack gives you a nod, Litch, but winks at Shrike before he excuses himself to "drain the giant lizard" and he goes into the bathroom and shuts the door, leaving all three of you out here.

With that, this shirt should be ready to go in a while when it dries. I'm rather pleased I was able to lift the blood using what was on hand! I head out of the bathroom and am surprised to find Litch and, this must be Shrike.

I step to the side of the hallway to make sure they are able to move about however they wish without my being in the way. "Good morning, Miss Shrike. Mister Litch." I bow. "Thank you for your hospitality. I'm truly grateful for what you've provided me with. I'll try to find a place of my own as soon as possible to ensure I won't be a burden. Is there anything I can do to be of service while I'm here?"

"Stay as long as you need to, Mundo." My face teases a hint of a smile when I grant the butler yet another nickname. I'm not sure whether or not he likes being called anything other than his given name. Sterling hides any disapproval behind his genteel disposition. "But your medical skills would be useful here. We all have scrapes, cuts, and bruises. And," I glance quickly to Shrike. "We have a little one with something a little more serious. Help her and you have a permanent place to dry your feet. I'll even get you your own space."

It occurs to me that a different title may be a helpful differentiator while I'm not in the tower. A chance to rebuild myself without all the pain that comes from being constantly reminded of who I am not. I find myself shocked at how comfortable I am at the thought of not returning to the tower, maybe it is just some version of shock though. A day will likely come, possibly soon, where I long for the heights of the Tower.

Being asked to tend to one of their flock is simultaneously exciting and terrifying. "Absolutely Mister Litch, anything I can do to help." No sense asking what will happen to me if I'm not successful in helping.