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bound_delia ([info]bound_delia) wrote in [info]bound_rp,
@ 2014-12-10 17:24:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:complete, daryl rochester, delia fallon, private

so hey, let's be friends
Date: December 10th, 2013
Time: 11pm
Location: The wooded area around Memorial Park
Characters: Daryl Rochester + Delia Fallon
Description: As Delia tries to find some of her missing items in the woods, she encounters a newcomer in town.
Status: Private, Complete.


It didn't seem like that long ago, Delia had locked herself out of her car at some god awful hour in the morning and had to walk from the hospital all the way back to her home in Memorial Park. During that trip, she had encountered a vampire who seemed keen on making her his dinner and she had been forced to shift to escape him, leaving a bunch of her clothes and other personal items scattered around the wooded floor of the park. It had been quite some time since then, and she had still been unable to locate her earrings and a necklace she cared about.

Work had ended not long ago, and after she came home she immediately grabbed a flashlight and went to go look for said missing items. Daylight didn't seem to be doing much, as the fog and general winter weather didn't allow for any glinting of the missing pieces to reflect off the sun and allow her to see them. And it seemed stupid to go out at night again, after she had nearly been eaten and all that, but she was quite competent and capable - there was no reason, in her mind, to be afraid of going out there at night. If she was, it just meant that he won. And that was the last thing she wanted. For some stupid vampire to have made her afraid of the dark.

So with a lovely and quite powerful flashlight in hand, she headed back out in her scrubs to try and locate her jewelry. As she walked, she stuck the flashlight under her arm to tug her hair out of the bun she'd been wearing at work, the hair-tie starting to give her a bit of a tension headache. The curls spilled out over her shoulders and she massaged her head briefly, taking the flashlight back in hand and sighing. She was starting to think maybe he stole the items as she neared the area where the prior scuffle had taken place, no reflecting of gems in sight.

Delia was focusing quite a bit on finding the lost treasures, combing the soft forest floor with her eyes peeled - and that meant that she wasn't paying total attention to her surroundings. She should have been more careful, and with how jumpy she had been lately she knew it could lead to an unexpected shift if she were surprised by anything in the forest, but she was sure at this time of night there wouldn't be anything to worry about, it was only eleven after all. Vampires didn't usually come out until a bit later, and in her current state of tiredness and frustration it was possible she wasn't really thinking about anything else startling her in the night.


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[info]bound_daryl
2014-12-14 12:36 am UTC (link)
"Thank you. I'll do my best at that, but it's not too easy when you're living outside, you know," he said, "Showers are hard to come by, but sure, I can probably see my way to finding a public loo to wash in, something like that," he nodded to himself. It shouldn't be too difficult. He'd managed it before. At a push, there was always McDonald's. They were always open. He would cope, as he always did. It was just life. His life. Maybe he would find another particularly wealthy vampire, get rid of them, and spend his few days healing there. That would be a good idea. He turned his attention back to the woman treating his leg. To his credit, he thought, he didn't wince as the wound was cleaned. It was fantastic news, that it wouldn't need stitches.

"Well, a bird it is, then," Daryl agreed, giving a laugh. He didn't mention that he'd probably have attacked rather than wait it out had she turned into anything less pathetic than a bird. "I can't fly, no," he admitted. "So, what's your name?" he asked then. "I'm Daryl," he said, "Daryl Rochester, but the surname won't help you too much. Not exactly in a phonebook, me," he said. You needed to possess a landline for that, as far as he knew, and to have a landline, you needed a house. Or at least a flat. He still had his mobile. But no one ever phoned him on it. Who would? Besides which, where would he charge it? He only kept the thing out of sentiment. It had his mother's last words on it, after all.

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[info]bound_delia
2014-12-14 12:48 am UTC (link)
Homeless. That killed her. She hated to see people who had fallen on hard times like that. Her lips pursed and formed a little frown as she finished up the bandaging portion. He was set to go as long as he took it easy for the day and didn't mess with the bandage, like she had said. She went ahead and got a little kit together, so that he could fix himself up later when the bandage needed to be changed. She even threw in a little extra for future cuts and scrapes. "There's a shelter, in town. I work there sometimes. If you'd like a place to stay for the next few days, I could give them a call."

Delia had started giving free medical attention to anyone in the shelter for the last four or five years. Pretty much since she had come to Crescent Cove. She also didn't ask a lot of questions, because there were a fair few amount of hunters and supernatural creatures who would end up there on hard times with injuries that weren't easy to explain to a normal doctor. She had sort of gotten a reputation for being the one to go to if you needed proper care without having to answer how you got the injury.

"Flying is pretty fantastic." She said, her features softening a little into a smile. She stood up and wiped off her hands, using another one of the alcohol pads to sanitize her hands since they had come into contact with his blood and whatnot. She zipped up the bag and then extended a hand out to him. "Delia. Delia Fallon. I am in the phone book, and I live just a short way from here." She was still rather confident in her ability to escape from him if need be, and so far he did not seem to be someone who wanted to harm her... so she decided to continue being helpful.

"You look like you could use something warm to drink, and a good meal. You could come in for dinner, if you want."

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[info]bound_daryl
2014-12-14 01:09 am UTC (link)
He smiled slightly. "Thank you for the offer," he said, leaving it at that. He had stayed in shelters before. They were all very well and good, but they took him away from the action of things. He had missed a vampire attack once when he had been staying in a shelter. It wasn't ideal. His way of life went hand in hand with his true calling in life. But for the next few days... he could be no help to anyone while he recovered. No, it was best that he let himself recover for once. As she had said, things ignored could only get worse. "Thank you," he repeated, having made up his mind, "That would be great if it wouldn't be a problem to?"

He shook her hand from the ground and then used the trunk he'd let his guitar rest against to pull himself up to his feet. "It's good to meet you, Delia," he said. Nurse Fallon. Well, it was something to remember should he ever need to get to the hospital in this place. Then there was the offer to go back to hers. "Thank you," he said, again, and he was sure he was saying so far too much, but he had a great deal to be thankful for. "I've not eaten today," he admitted fairly readily. Or yesterday, but there it was. The crowds were tough in this country. England had always paid well. Here, he'd have to exist on the kindness of strangers, it seemed. Still, he felt the hints of suspicion. He always did, no matter who they were.

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[info]bound_delia
2014-12-14 01:15 am UTC (link)
He didn't seem willing to accept her help, as if there were something more important on his mind. But after what seemed a few minutes of debating he thanked her, asking if it would be trouble. "Not at all. I volunteer there frequently, I'm sure they would be glad to house you while you let that wound heal." She smiled happily, always glad to help someone who needed it. Especially one who took her for what she was and did not freak out or try and harm her in some way. It was also a ploy to keep him from sharing her secret, though she would have helped him anyway.

Daryl also decided to go ahead and accept her offer for food and she smacked her hands together and said "Wonderful." She didn't offer to help him carry his things, because she felt that might be emasculating and possibly make him refuse any of the rest of her help, so she just grabbed her bag and headed back towards her car, the search for her missing jewelry thoroughly abandoned once more. She was probably never going to find it, anyway.

The walk was short back to her place, a small little cabin-like home nestled in the woods nearby a street and a few other houses though she had quite a bit of space and her home was fairly private. She went inside, leaving the door open for him behind her trusting that he would close it. Inside on the counter were a few grocery bags, and she went ahead and started making what she had already planned on having - a quick pasta. Which was nice for him, because it was a starch and very filling. "So how long have you been in Crescent Cove?"

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[info]bound_daryl
2014-12-14 01:24 am UTC (link)
He picked up his guitar, shouldering its straps so his weight would be more or less balanced to put the least amount of stress on his leg. "That's all I would need," he said, "Just a few days, then I would be out of their way," he added, in case that helped. He knew the general view on people without places to live. Traditionally, it was not exactly a favourable one. Still, the short lived kindness of strangers was nothing to be turned away from, and Daryl would always accept it happily. It often led to other opportunities, after all.

He walked at her side, to her car, then to her home. "What were you doing in the woods, then?" he asked, though perhaps it was a nightly ritual of hers. She didn't live too far away. He had no idea, really. Still, he would have thought a vampire attack might keep her away for at least a few nights. Obviously not. "Not long. I came to America three, nearly four, years ago. But here, only a week. Not long at all." He let his guitar rest by the front door which he shouldered shut behind him, then he was following her into the kitchen. It was all wooden colouring and warmth in here. Quite the contrast to outside, but he didn't take off his coat. He'd rather warm up, honestly.

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[info]bound_delia
2014-12-14 01:30 am UTC (link)
"They have beds open frequently if you ever need to go back. And if you need any more medical attention, I volunteer on Wednesdays in the evening." She smiled, wanting him to at least have the information at hand in case he ever needed it. She hoped he didn't. She sincerely hoped that he would get things turned around here so that he wouldn't have to worry about having a place to sleep or finding his next meal. She couldn't imagine how stressful that might be.

She frowned as she started boiling water and chopping up some spices for the sauce. "Well, when I shift, as you saw, I lose everything I'm wearing. Including jewelry. When I was attacked a few weeks ago, I lost a necklace and some earrings that were sentimental. So I've been searching for them, but no luck." She shrugged half-heartedly. She did miss the necklace far more than the earrings. "I waited a while before going back, just in case, but he hasn't shown his face again so I figured it was alright to search every time I'm home." Which wasn't often, actually.

"Where did you come from before, then? Before America, anyway." While there was a pause in chopping and waiting for water to boil, she went ahead and sent a text messages to the director of the shelter, and gave a brief description of Daryl and gave them his first name, so that they would be able to recognize him when he went there. "And how are you liking this... interesting little town?"

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[info]bound_daryl
2014-12-14 01:46 am UTC (link)
"That's good to know, thank you," Daryl said, standing for a moment in the centre of the kitchen as he soaked up the heat of the place and then, after long moments, he decided he probably looked strange, so went to lean against a counter instead. He listened to Delia's explanation, about how she had lost some jewellery. "People drop weird things in my case sometimes," he said as he rifled through his pockets for a moment. He had emptied his guitar case when he had finished playing for the day so that he could gather enough money for a burger at least, but he'd not managed it this time. The earrings that had been dropped instead of money had annoyed him at the time. He couldn't exactly buy food with that. "I don't expect they're the same ones," he said, taking the contents of his pocket out and letting them roll about on the counter. Not even a dollar here. And a pair of earrings that he quickly identified and placed by the spices she had been arranging.

"But call them replacements, anyway," he said. He couldn't exactly use the things. He gathered his change back up and pocketed it again. "And England. Cornwall. Everyone there sounds like sailors. We'd have scones and pasties," he said, a bit wistful for it all. He missed his home. He missed his happy little life he'd had. If he had never gone off to university, they would have stayed home that Christmas. He'd still have his family now. He looked down at his shoes for a moment or two, gathering himself. "I've not seen much of it. I got lost in the woods when I swore I was walking in town a minute ago," he said and shrugged. He'd blinked the tears away before they could happen and was smiling cheerily once more.

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[info]bound_delia
2014-12-14 01:56 am UTC (link)
She hadn't expected him to whip out earrings from his pocket, nor had she expected them to actually be the pair of earrings she had lost. But once he set them by the spices she had chopped and prepared for the sauce, she nearly dropped the mixing spoon she had been holding. "These are them!" She said, the surprise ringing clear in her voice and written all over her face. She picked them up and inspected them more carefully, and confirmed they were actually the ones she had lost. She was sure the vampire had not tossed them, but maybe someone else had found them while they walked through the path and picked them up. They weren't worth much, but they meant a lot to her sentimentally.

"Thanks." She said, quickly putting them on before she resumed her cooking. The water was boiling and she went ahead and placed the noodles in there, turning back around to him. The upset on his face was subtle, but she missed any indication of wet eyes or forming tears. "I could make you a pasty sometime." She said, shrugging. She liked to cook foods from everywhere. She didn't fancy herself a very good cook or anything but it was something she thoroughly enjoyed. "This place is funny like that. Memorial Park is kind of a tourist attraction - so you've got the city there, then across the street is a small set of woods that separates the touristy area from where there are some homes. The forest actually gets pretty deep and wild on the other side of the lake, people camp there sometimes." Aside from that, it was pretty much like any other town.

"It's a big enough place that you don't know everyone everywhere you go, but it's small enough to not be overwhelming. I like it here, usually."

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[info]bound_daryl
2014-12-14 02:10 am UTC (link)
His eyebrows rose in surprise quite of their own accord when Delia confirmed that they really were the earrings she had lost. "I remember who dropped them on me. I'll have a look for him and ask if he saw the necklace," he said. It wasn't an offer of something he could do. No, it was more an explanation of what he would do. It would be payment for the kindness he had been shown and the help he had been offered, nothing more. He knew all about sentimentality. That was why his grandparents' flat lay untouched since their slaughter, why his parents' house was as it had been when they had gone to join him in Cardiff for the holiday. He'd hate to think that had been taken from him.

"All Cornish people know how to make a pasty," he said. Even he did. Not that he had the means with which to do so. "I've certainly been in wilder cities, huge places. Ever been on the streets of Manhattan of a night? This place has been pretty good for me. Not for busking, not at all. They're mean here, but sleeping is easy." Well, it was easy when an old man wasn't waking you up and setting his dog on you entirely unprovoked. "So, your vampire attack," he hazarded then, because it would only help him to know more, "Do they happen a lot around here?"

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[info]bound_delia
2014-12-14 08:32 pm UTC (link)
"Thanks." She said, still shocked that he had had the earrings. That maybe the necklace could be found too. After all that searching, she just laughed a little to herself and finished prepping the sauce before she put it, along with canned tomatoes into a pan and let it simmer. She turned around, leaning back against the counter, sliding up onto it to sit down so she could casually stir the noodles every once in a while but also talk to Daryl without having to turn her back on him to do so.

"I'm not Cornish." She said, sighing a little. "Just American." And Shifter, but that didn't really count. "I have been to Manhattan." She said with a laugh, nodding her head in agreement with his assessment about it, along with the tameness of Crescent Cove. "It's a small place, seems calm, but there's a lot going on under the surface." She had been feeling it resonate for weeks. Just this constant edge of danger.

When he asked about the attacks, she shrugged. "It didn't seem like that before - but there was an attack reported in the papers last year that seemed kind of suspicious. Not a lot of attacks on women here, you know. Happened late night, too so I don't know. There's definitely a lot of vampires gathering in the town, though. I'm not totally in the loop with what's going on. I just can feel them."

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[info]bound_daryl
2014-12-14 09:00 pm UTC (link)
He shrugged his shoulders. He couldn't make a promise about this sort of thing. After all, they might have only picked up the earrings. They might want to keep the necklace if they did have it. But people could be persuaded, and he usually managed it. "I know you're not Cornish," he said then. "You always know someone from home." He didn't think it was something particular to his home county. He thought it was just a general thing, the ability to recognise your own accent, even a poor imitation of it. His own had been diluted with travel, but it was still strong enough. Certainly whenever he spoke with Americans.

"There was a lot going on there, but people tipped very well," he said. He missed it, in a way, but it was never about the money. It was about keeping people safe. And with these vampire attacks, if they were gathering together, it seemed he had never been needed in a place more.

"How can you feel them?" he asked, letting the confusion show on his face. "I'm just- normal, really, I mean, I need to know, how? How are you meant to avoid them when you're out in the open, if they're gathering in town?"

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[info]bound_delia
2014-12-14 09:40 pm UTC (link)
"I'm not really anything. Moved around a lot." She said with a shrug. If anything, you might get a bit of a south-eastern sound. She had spent her childhood and formative years in Washington, then went to Salt Lake City, but Indiana and Tennessee had pretty harsh accents and on occasion, having spent so much time in those states, she had a bit of an accent from there. Aside from that, she was pretty indistinguishable from everyone else.

Delia nodded her head. The people here were friendly, and Christmas time should have been better but with the lack of a lot of homeless people, there was a lack of empathy. It wasn't like a big city where it was normal and hundreds of people were going by giving out spare change. It was one of the reasons she had dedicated her time to the shelter - because they really, really needed it.

"I feel them because of what I am. Shifting is inherently an escape mechanism, a way to hide or get away from a predator. We're not predators. So depending on how... dangerous a creature is, there's a distinct urge to change shape and escape. And like, a danger sense." She shrugged. It sounded silly when you said it out loud like that. "I get a feeling, when something bad is about to happen. But mostly, when a supernatural gets close I start to feel panicked, the need to get away gets intense. And depending on what type of creature it is, the feeling will either be mild or very very strong."

"You're fine in the day, obviously. They are gathering, but there are things in place that are supposed to stop them from attacking. The Accords or something, a secrecy rule. It was supposed to put an end to that kind of thing. So there are quite a few here, but I'm not sure why."

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[info]bound_daryl
2014-12-14 10:04 pm UTC (link)
"Wouldn't worry about it," Daryl said, waving a hand as though it didn't matter. It didn't, really. All his own accent did was serve to remind him of everything he didn't have now. But, then again, he would never leave it behind him. He liked being reminded. He never wanted to forget his family. They were the reason he was who he was now, the reason he helped so many, the reason he was a homeless drifter. But he was proud of all he was, and always would be. But he would never forgive what the vampire had done, would hold it against each and every one he met from that moment on. These gathering vampires would be no different to that. He would never forget either.

"So you know whenever someone who's a threat to you is in the area?" he asked. It was all useful information. "I've only run into one or two-" it was such a lie, "-but they were..." he shook his head, even bit his lower lip as though he didn't want to go into it too much. "Even if there's a rule to stop them attacking, you're still feeling that they're here? So they might actually be a real threat?" It was just to hear all he could, really. Just to learn everything there was to know about the vampires in this area without arousing suspicion of his true nature.

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[info]bound_delia
2014-12-14 10:19 pm UTC (link)
She was starting to get a bit suspicious of him. Of course, he could just be curious but it seemed he was asking an awful lot of specific questions and she had never had a good encounter with someone who asked that many questions. Either they were supernatural themselves, or they some sort of variety of Hunter or Guardian. Gaining intel on her status, or whatever.

"It isn't based on their actual threat. For instance, you were holding a knife when we met after I shifted the first time, and the urge to shift was mild and only buzzing because you had a knife. If the knife was hidden, I would have no idea if you were a threat or not unless you actually tried to attack me." She explained, trying to make sure she was being accurate with her telling.

"But it's different for supernaturals. Like, shifters are inherently low on the danger list. Vampires, historically, are dangerous for their nature and ability alone. Same with werewolves, almost more so because they often are not in control of what they are doing when they are new or crazed. But a phoenix wouldn't raise many alarms at all." She said, shrugging. "Because they don't possess any naturally harmful abilities. You see? So it's not their threat to me in specific, it's their predatory nature. Like a lion who has been raised by a human from birth would be less dangerous to that human but that doesn't mean that lion is not a predator."

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[info]bound_daryl
2014-12-14 10:51 pm UTC (link)
"So it's all based on how the world's seen them as threats before, not what they actually are now," he said, giving a nod. He understood now. She wouldn't be much use as far as an alarm really went. At least, in terms of gauging exactly what the vampires were up to. Really, it wouldn't be much help at all. His own senses as to what they were would ultimately be of greater use. "You've got to carry that sort of thing on you when you sleep rough, you know," he added, an explanation for his knife.

He probably ought to know more about these others. The other supernatural species out there. But ever since he had discovered their existence, he had concentrated solely on vampires, on ridding the world of their kind. They were all the same. They all deserved to die. But the other species, he'd always let the other hunters deal with them. They had done nothing to Daryl, and unless he found them supporting vampires actively, he left them alone. It was all dependant on how dangerous they were to him.

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[info]bound_delia
2014-12-14 10:56 pm UTC (link)
"Exactly. So even though there are a fair few werewolves out here, none of whom have attacked a single person, they would still register high on the shifter threat alert system." She said, laughing a little at the bit at the end. It was a sort of alert system - it worked from a pretty decent way off. She had felt the vampire the second he had come within a short distance of her. And the ability to sense danger was also really handy. Which worked for more than just supernatural danger, it worked well for any sort of personal danger she might be in. Which is why she was so easy to help Daryl, because after the knife had been put away she realized there was no inkling of danger, no intuitive sense that something bad might happen.

"I understand. And if I didn't have the capability of shifting into something that could easily escape or bite a hole into your throat, I would probably carry a knife too." She agreed, nodding her head. "As it is, I still carry mace. Not a good idea to go around shifting all the time. If you weren't even mildly aware of the supernatural, it would have been a damn big faux pas on my part to do that. I probably would have to move."

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[info]bound_daryl
2014-12-14 11:11 pm UTC (link)
"Well, luckily for you, no one would believe me even if I did tell them. You don't get too many people who are homeless and sane," he said with a laugh. No, that was one thing that was difficult about his chosen way of life. If he ever had to warn people of an incoming attack, well, he doubted they would ever believe him. He was harmless in that way. He could overhear as many plans as he liked, but he had no way of backing it up. The only way for him to stop something from happening was to do so himself.

"It must be useful to be able to feel who's a danger to you without needing any help on it," Daryl said, raising his left leg for a moment, "I would have seen this coming. As it was, I was just rudely woken by a man and his dog. They said I stole their spot. Not as dangerous as vampires, but still a nasty bite!"

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[info]bound_delia
2014-12-14 11:19 pm UTC (link)
"Sadly, that is true." She said, though she didn't laugh or joke about it. She had dealt with a lot of homeless people at this point, and though quite a few did have run ins with the supernatural and were entirely sane, the overwhelming majority had some sort of mental illness that usually contributed to the fact that they were homeless. It was a sad, sad truth.

She nodded her head, absently stirring the pasta once more. "It has its upsides, that's for sure." She agreed, knowing it had gotten her out of what might have become a sticky situation on more than one occasion. "Just because we know there are vampires and werewolves out there doesn't mean a dog's bite isn't formidable."

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[info]bound_daryl
2014-12-14 11:27 pm UTC (link)
"Well, welcome to my life," Daryl said, giving a shrug. "I'm not insane. At least, I'd hope not. I just don't live anywhere." Another shrug was given. He'd not volunteer why he was homeless. After all, he did technically have a place to live, two places, in fact, back in England, but he'd never go there again, and explaining why... it was all too much to get into, too much information to give out freely, however happy enough he was to do so normally. It was never the truth he told, not usually.

"You're probably saying that because you've got quite the nasty bite on you - if you end up as anything but a bird, that is," he said, and there was a joke there, a bit of a sly dig at her bird form. He didn't really see that she could be anything threatening.

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[info]bound_delia
2014-12-14 11:40 pm UTC (link)
"You seem pretty sane to me." She agreed, nodding her head. He held a conversation just fine, there were no interruptions or strange asides that she found in longer conversations with people who were mentally unstable. She didn't ask why he was homeless - that was far too personal a question, despite the fact that he had so thoroughly questioned her darkest secret.

She chuckled at the bite comment, though there was certainly some sarcasm laced with the whole thing and he was taking another dig at the fact that her go-to form was a bird. "Don't make me prove it." She warned, though it was an empty threat - she would certainly prove it if he asked her to, but she would never attack him. She slid off the counter, grabbing the strainer and the pot of pasta, as it was all about done now.

"Plates are in that cabinet there. " She said, nodding in the direction she kept her plates. "And the parmesan is in the fridge." Which needed no indication, as it was pretty clearly capable of being seen. Once the pasta was strained she put it back in the pot with a little of the sauce so it didn't stick, and grabbed what she wanted to eat first before letting him go. "Eat all you want. Rest is yours."

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[info]bound_daryl
2014-12-14 11:52 pm UTC (link)
Plates? Did he have to? Still, he was not an animal. He did as he was told and went to the cabinet, taking out two plates, one for her, one for himself. His stomach growled as the fact that he was actually going to be allowed to eat registered with him. It wasn't a joke. He was going to eat food that had just been given to him, for the first time in one or two days, and he wanted nothing more than to behave like a barbarian and eat straight from the pot.

He was very civilised for someone who was starving, but he didn't go for the parmesan if only because anything too rich might make him ill, given he'd not had anything in a while. Unfortunately, it was just how his body worked. "Thank you," he managed to say before he was spooning pasta into his mouth like it had been weeks since he'd last had anything, not just two days. Ten minutes passed and he was done, scraping all he could from the pot onto his plate, though it was just the dregs of sauce left now. No real food.

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[info]bound_delia
2014-12-15 12:16 am UTC (link)
She wasn't surprised at all by his behavior in eating so quickly. It wasn't like this was the first time she had seen someone literally starving eat their first good meal in a long time. She paid him no mind, let him eat in peace and went ahead and continued to eat her dinner. It took her the same amount of time to finish the smaller amount of food on her plate that it did for him to finish the rest of the pasta. She had made a decent amount, too.

When they were both done, she went ahead and stood up. "There's bread, too, if you want some for the sauce. I don't really like garlic bread, though, so it's just some sourdough slices." She shrugged a little and put her plate in the sink, as well as the pasta bowl itself though the sauce was still out if he wanted to eat some of that still. It was pretty good, if she said so herself. Her phone buzzed, the shelter responding to her text.

"There's a spot open for you at the shelter, too. Someone will be there tonight for you to get in if you want. And I could drive you, since you really shouldn't walk that far on that leg."

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[info]bound_daryl
2014-12-15 12:27 am UTC (link)
"I'll have bread," he said quite eagerly, perhaps too eager. He still felt hungry in spite of everything he'd eaten so far. He'd felt disappointment that the food was gone, but hearing that there was something more he could have, well, he would never say no to more food. He was fairly certain that she meant him no harm. He'd have been killed before now if she had.

"And brilliant," he said when she informed him he'd have a place at the shelter. It was cold out, and he needed to heal, to keep himself clean for long enough to recover. "Thank you for sorting it out for me. You don't owe anything to me. Not at all. I appreciate this. I'll remember it."

Of course, as far as she knew, his remembering her kindness would only lead him to seek her out if he was ever in trouble again. But he had more than that. He may survive off the kindness of strangers, but he had saved lives. Hers might need it one day if a hunter was less kindly disposed toward Shifters.

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[info]bound_delia
2014-12-15 12:38 am UTC (link)
She grabbed the bread from the drawer and opened it up, setting the whole thing on the counter next to the sauce. She didn't mind if he ate it all, either. She was fortunate enough to be able to buy groceries for herself, and buying another loaf of bread wouldn't break the bank. She made a decent amount being a nurse at St. Katherine's.

"It was no problem." She said, smiling at him. Delia, first and foremost, was a kind and caring person. There wasn't anything she wouldn't do to help someone out if they needed it. "Someday I might need someone to find some more earrings for me, you'll be the first I go to." A small laugh was given at that, but of course that would not be the only reason she might call on him, if ever need be.

There wasn't much else to do but let him continue to eat before she took him to the shelter, so she went back to sit at the table, calmly watching him. "So, how many different supernaturals have you come across, then?"

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[info]bound_daryl
2014-12-15 12:47 am UTC (link)
He did exactly that, dipping the bread into the sauce, and when that was gone, he ate the bread as it was. Filling up on carbohydrates was the best thing for him. It always got him through a good few days. And then there was meat, too. That usually helped keep him going a bit longer. It was a good thing fast food was cheap. Good for him, at least.

"I'll see if I can find your necklace for you," he said, as though that were the only thing he could offer. He hoped he could locate it. It would certainly repay the kindness he had been shown. "Just, well, do try not to change your shape while you've got the earrings on, at least? I'd hate you to lose them again now they've been found." Of course, it was bound to be unavoidable if she changed when frightened. "How many...?" he asked, falling quiet for a moment. So many he'd lost count. How many had he killed? It had been eleven years since the first. He'd lost count. "I've met one vampire," he said instead, "But I've met him twice. That was why I left Manhattan." An easy lie. "And you."

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(no subject) - [info]bound_delia, 2014-12-15 12:54 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]bound_daryl, 2014-12-15 01:02 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]bound_delia, 2014-12-15 01:13 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]bound_daryl, 2014-12-15 01:27 am UTC

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