Pandion [.open.]

Kestrel woke up to a blinding headache. It felt like somebody with a sledgehammer was beating his way out. Or her way, though Kestrel felt she could discount Greek goddesses for the time being. It wouldn't necessarily be out of the question, but one supernatural entity in her head was enough. She sat up with a start, a horrifying realization rising to the surface.

The first things she checked were her hands. Turning them over and over, even going so far as to smell them.

Filthy, yes, but they weren't bloody, aside from a couple scratches. She released some of the tension in her narrow shoulders with a shuddering breath. Thank whatever powers may be for small miracles.

The hem of her jeans was filthy, covered in mud and plant matter. It was torn in a couple places, revealing a couple sizable lacerations and welts. From the feel of it, dried mud caked the side of her head, causing her short hair to stick out at odd angles. She picked herself up gingerly, some of the filth cracking off her clothes in the process. What happened?

She was sure Andy had something to do with it, but, aside from that, she was baffled. Kestrel glanced around to establish her location, realizing that she was at the port at nightfall. Not good. Of all of the locations at Port Albion, this was the one she felt the least safe at. And, furthermore, she had not made a good first impression on some of the locals, thanks to Andy.

The young teacher was barefoot.

"When it rains, it pours. Andy, what have you done?!"

Silence from the demon. Never boded well for her in the past. Immediately, her defenses went up.

At least her apartment wasn't too far from here. Once she got there, she could start working out some of the bigger questions.

Like:

1.) How had she gotten there?
2.) Why was she blacking out?
3.) What was Andy hiding from her?

She tried to smooth the white button-up shirt down, but it was wrinkled and as filthy as the rest of her. The sky was an intimidating mix of ominous cloud cover and violent reds and oranges and the rising winds smelled like rain.

Perfect.

With the day nearly coming to a close, it was high time that Cathal began to move out. The daylight gave him away too much and while he had gotten better with blending into crowds and detracting attention from himself he was still easily identifiable within a group of people. Not many had the fashion sense for jean jackets or perhaps that was the other way around, either way night was the better time to scavenge. While that was when the tougher riffraff showed themselves, Cathal had a slight bit of confidence that he could slither his way out of anything that was too dangerous. As long as he didn’t cross paths with any dangerous individuals he should be quite safe.

Unfortunately his sticking to the shadows plan led him to the docks. Definitely one of the more risky places for him to skulk about and he himself was ready to turn back as he emerged from the alleyways, but an opportunity that he couldn’t ignore was laid out in the open. An unconscious woman, a rather dirty one at that. She looked as though she had been lost in the for the past couple of days, but regardless she must have something of value on her person and even if she doesn’t she appeared to be out cold, dead looking even, how much harm could a simple inspection do?

The shifty man peered around the area searching for any witnesses or possibly any looters that had their eyes on her first, but he seemed to be lucky enough to have neither in the area. Cathal slowly crept toward the body, his eyes peeled in the case that this free ticket was just some sort of bait for a trap.

Once his shadow connected to her body though he quickly noticed that she was awake once again. Spooked by this prospect, the grimy guttersnipe fled and dove for cover before the woman could even lay eyes on him.

Resting behind a nearby thigh-high garden wall, he spied on his inquiry while recovering his breath. She seemed to be investigating herself as though she forgotten how she ended up in her predicament. So she was suffering from amnesia? Sounds like something Cathal could take advantage of, though it would really depend on how bad the case was.

He put on a worried and concerned complexion before jumping back to his feet, he circled around the Port’s attempts at botany and rushed toward the female’s side. “Oh thank the lord you are alright! I was trying to call someone for help, but payphones are scarce in this day and age. You are alright aren’t you?” the man asked with the innocent eyes of an oblivious child.

Kestrel colored distinctly under all of the dirt on her face. Damn, she hadn't wanted to be seen in public like this. Embarrassing would be an understatement. A fellow who might have been a dockhand or a laborer (or something) was approaching rather quickly with concern plastered over his face. "Uh. Yes. Just... out for a walk."

Her gray-green eyes scanned over him quickly and determined his presence to be a nuisance, not an overt threat. With luck, she'd get out of this circumstance with her pride just a little stung and nothing more. "Thanks for the concern, though, errr...." She trailed off, not sure if the guy would even want to introduce himself. Or if it mattered, in any case. She sure didn't want this to come back to haunt her.

She glanced at the sky again and asked absently, "Is this gonna hold off long enough for me to get home?" The question wasn't really meant for her unlikely companion, more to keep her focused. Andy's absence was even more poignant now that she was talking to a stranger without his input (which could either be helpful or completely pointless depending on his mood).

It must have been quite the walk this woman had went through, perhaps his theory of her being lost in the forest for days on end wasn’t too out there. Either way, she was obviously lying. Whatever it was that actually happened to her she was keeping secret or didn’t actually know herself. Her face flashed a brighter shade so odds were that she was embarrassed about something. Perhaps she was some sort of drunk and this was the outcome of a bad night or rather bad day given the time. If she had been resting on the dock for longer than a day then that night truly would’ve been awful.

“Cathal” he picked up after she left off with a slight bow of his head. “My mother was a bit on the pretentious side” he continued in a bit of an apologetic manner. Insulting his own mother irked him a bit even in a minor way, but he grew past it quickly.

The woman mutter to herself about something, he assumed it being about the weather conjuring in the sky currently. The rain was going to make things a bit problematic for him as well, but at least he had an assured and free source of freshwater for the next couple of days. He peered toward the sky as well then back to the woman across from him. “Yes looks like heavy storms. I know some fairly dry routes you could cut through if it concerns you that much. It’s also very out of the way, barely anyone will notice you go by”

Kestrel smiled at him, tipping her head. "Cathal is nice. Unique. I wouldn't call it pretentious. My parents named my sister and me after birds. If your name is pretentious, then mine reaches hipster levels." She rubbed the back of her head, making her short hair stick out at all angles. "Kestrel. Nice to meet you."

Awkward to meet you, she thought bitterly. She wanted to establish herself here in town, but not as the resident crazy person. And, right now, she was bordering 'hype head' territory.

Thus, when his offer to lead her through some dry routes came through, she blurted, "Sure!" before some Andy-ingrained paranoia struck her. If she had not already accepted, she would have given the decision a little more thought. A single woman letting a complete stranger lead her hom, along a route that was 'out of the way'. Unease pricked at her skin, but she decided to stand by her original word. It wasn't like she was carrying anything of value and she felt confident that, even shoeless, she could put on a sudden burst of speed that might take anybody by surprise.

And, furthermore, he hadn't actually offered to walk her there. He just knew some dry routes. Maybe he'd write them down?

She shook off the encroaching suspicion, berating herself. Once upon a time, she could have wholeheartedly trusted this guy. In fact, she was determined to do so now. A small town like this? After all of the bad juju from a few months ago? It was time to start reinforcing the idea that people deserved to be trusted. "I live in a house near the market. What's the best route to Arkham Street? She shot him a half-smile. "I appreciate this. Thank you."

Admitting his name to be pretentious was almost like fishing for compliments, in fact he felt like it was even though that was not his original intent. It was more so to make his introduction seem friendlier with the added bit of quip. Didn’t matter all too much though. He wore a subtle warm smile “yes, a shared pleasure.”

Kestrel agreed to Cathal’s offer, which he honestly didn’t expect for the first go around. He thought he would have to use a bit more convincing and in fact had quite a few other reasons for her to trust him ready to exploit, but they weren’t needed. He supposed that in comparison of their guises he was certainly not the sketchiest looking of the two. Besides, there weren’t any others coming to her aid, but then again the place did appear to be rather deserted. Blame it on the bad weather brewing. Although, he couldn’t complain much, that meant less that could challenge him.

With his knowledge of the streets of the rather small port he was able to identify the street name as well as some others that were nearby, though the main routes he knew weren’t exactly the easiest to follow. While the streets were usually a safer bet than the alley ways, squeezing between the crevasses of the buildings was a much faster option. Although, it was slightly more dangerous since a scrawny guy like him and a rather beat up woman wouldn’t exactly be enough to ward off the possible thugs that tended to be territorial. Cathal had some ties though, he could get them out of any danger and if worse came to worse he could toss the woman and run.

“Arkham street, hrm, quite the distance you’ve come, eh?” the jean jacketed man mused as he peered back to the alley from whence he came. “Well, it intersects with Innsmouth Avenue. We can go through here and be there in a short amount of time” he continued as he pointed back to the passage way.

“No thanks needed, madam. Good karma in return for a good deed. Lord knows this soul needs some.” Cathal proceeded to point her in the right direction, into the crack between two neighboring homes covered over by the tail ends of their roofs.

An eyebrow shot up. So he was going to walk her there? It was implied by his use of the word 'we'. She wasn't sure what she felt about this.

She glanced at him, warring with her own unease. With a thought, she finally banished it and stood up straighter. She forced a smile and nodded. "I guess I did." That was an understatement. Based on the stuff she was covered in, she could venture a guess that her trip had had a stop-off in the forest. That was a line of questioning, though, she would have to pursue later, when her attention didn't need to be on her surroundings and on her companion. "Alright, then. Sounds good to me." What, exactly, would she have done if it hadn't? Wander around the port until she started recognizing her surroundings?

The headache had eased a little. Now it persisted as a dull throb. The sooner she got home, the sooner she could pop some painkillers and wash off the evidence of her activities.

Vaguely, she wondered what Cathal had meant about needing to perform some good deeds, but she didn't have the wherewithal to pursue it. Instead, she asked, "Do you live nearby, then?" She gingerly stepped in to the space he had pointed out, her eyes downwards to search the gloom for shards of glass that would have torn her bare soles to ribbons.

Cathal followed at a leisurely pace behind the woman, seeming to be at a comfortable ease so that she would reflect the same. Though, he had not considered the advent of the woman not having any shoes. That would be slightly problematic considering the shadows of the allies and who knows what that was abandoned on the pavement from whatever interactions had previously gone on. Normal Cathal would undermine this and pin the blame on her for being irresponsible for her own actions, but normal Cathal doesn’t make profit nor would he put up with the woman to begin with.

The crevasse they had entered was relatively clear, as clean as an unattended alleyway could possibly be. Still plenty of potential dangers for the barefooted though. He supposed that some sort of display of compassion would earn him more trust, though he wasn’t ready to give up his own pair for her benefit just yet. Cathal carefully curved his way around Kestrel in order to lead the way. “Hm, given your lack of footwear it would probably be wise for me to lead the way, let you know if there’s anything ahead you should be careful of” the man offered quite politely as he continued to stroll forward.

She then began to question his place of living. The first counter question his mind leapt to was whether or not a homeless man helping someone out of the goodness of their heart was at all feasible or believable. He could probably spin it well if he played his cards right though, earn this woman’s pity in the process. “Well, here, there. I know these streets well for a reason. A tale I won’t bother you with, you don’t need to hear this woeful bum’s sorrows” he commented quite quietly. “Nor is there a point in telling you, past is meaningless unless you have a future to invest on, something my mother used to say, or close to that.” His voice naturally spiked back up to his medium level tone.

Kestrel didn't bother to correct him; he wanted to do her the kindness of going first and she could use her darksight to look for other hazards if she wasn't looking at the ground. She lapsed into contemplative silence as he led the way, being evasive enough with his answers that she could feel her suspicions flare up again.

Her head throbbed again and she sighed; this was a bad enough situation regardless of her company. And he hadn't made any untoward moves.

Stop being so paranoid, she thought to herself, casting her gaze around them.

She tried to keep her eventual reply light and forthright, "I'm not sure what you're trying to say here. Are you implying you don't think you have a future so your past doesn't count? Or that we'll never meet again so telling me in particular would be fruitless?" She arched an eyebrow at the back of his head. "I wouldn't agree with either of those, but I'm not going to pry into your past if it makes you uncomfortable."

He didn't seem like the homeless she'd encountered in the past and she wondered if he was schizophrenic. If what she remembered from school was correct, plenty of young people who lived on the streets had mental issues. Then again, he didn't seem like the sort. She wasn't sure what to take from this.

"What do you do when the weather changes? Or during hurricanes?" She didn't go back to the topic of his mother. Twice in the beginning of one conversation? Odd. Was he masking something by returning to a topic that was clearly something he felt comfortable with?

OOC; THREAD RETIRED.