#a_room_at_firnost

(He glances up as Zara speaks)

"Just.. pardon. Much is unknown. I know healing is vital. But we know little of the defenses. There is no... no magic bullet to make. I suspect it may be wisest if only some of us attempt to go inside."

(Jeremy gives Ice a warning glance. Ice scowls, and with his usual tact and subtlety) "What?"

"I can hear thee, a block away. Thou art scarcely suited."

(Ice rolls his eyes, but flicks eyes to Zara, and back) "Better than the damn troll. Eshu's pretty good at it, though."

"Kitten? Sure he is. So sneaky, you won't even notice when he's pulled a runner."

(Jeremy sighs, and pauses) "Lady Zara, thou hast the ability to turn Fortune to smile upon thee." (A hesitation, at Pynki's words, then) "Mr. Ice, when we are done here....I should like a private word, pardon?" (Ice doesn't look happy. At all. A scowl, but he shrugs and nods, narrowing eyes)

"I do, sir. I can... fool the eye, but not hide something completely. I may speak to chimera."

She chews at her lip a bit, thoughtful.

(He murmurs) "An' I may....a prick of the finger, from the each of thee. Into the thermos." (A pause) "Come back, ere leaving. I trust it is soon."

"Sundown."

Her gaze flicks from Jeremy, to Ice, hardening on the latter. "And who provides the juice?"

(He winces, suddenly, at the 'sundown'. Obviously, he was expecting longer. A few days, perhaps)

(Ice opens his mouth to answer, but Jeremy hisses, softly) "Hsst."

"My family. My cost, yes?"

"Lady Thirteen....contributed, towards the journey, Lady Pynki." (Softly, courteously) "I thank thee, thy concern....but I do not mind, to cover. They shall need it, at least until well underway. Aye?"

"Or they could not go." But this, grumbled, relenting.

"That was mine advice. But," (A ghost of a smile, sad) "I desire a promise from thee both, to return."

"When thou hast return'ed to collect the Phantom. Lady Pynki....may I borrow thy blade, an' it please?"

"I... asked to not, but.. but... " she closes her eyes. "I am sorry."

She hesitates, reaching for the switchblade at her belt, and then stops, sliding her hand into a pocket instead. Rather than the obvious knife, the one she hands over is small - a pocket-knife, enamel handled, with a worn 'Micky Mouse' pattern on it. "You can use this one. It's clean."

"I know, Lady Zara. I would do the same. Thank thee, Lady Pynki." (He reaches for the thermos, empty....and sets it between his knees. Then he glances at Ice. Ice scowls, and mutters something about cleaning it off so the mouse doesn't get the leftovers. Then he gets up, approaching reluctantly. When Jeremy reaches for his hand, he doesn't resist, allowing his hand to be guided over the thermos. Jeremy tries to be quick. A small cut to the side of the hand, allowing the welling droplets to drizzle into the container. Ice flexed his hand to increase blood flow, and eventually Jeremy murmurs and Ice draws back his hand, pressing it into his shirt to staunch the blood and retreating towards the door. Leaning on the wall and waiting sullenly, while Jeremy turns his gaze to Zara)

Zara is subdued, no scowl, just a look of resignation. She offers Jeremy her hand.

Her eyes narrow at the dig, and her lips are pressed into a thin line.

(He repeats the process....letting go of her hand when the blood has dripped in to mix with Ice's in the container. A whisper) "I do not intend to save it, Lady." (He uses fingers to clean the blade, and his own shirt, before offering it back to Pynki. Ice watches with sharp eyes, but makes no further complaint)

Zara brings her hand to her mouth, sucking on the cut.

"Keep it. Sanitize it first. Wouldn't want to worry his little head." Sliding off the bed and digging underneath it, searching. One boot is found, and her arms snakes beneath again, seeking the other.

(He rolls his eyes, scowling) "Don't matter. Probably going to be dead anyway, won't do you any good."

(He realizes, too late, he said that in front of Jeremy, and flicks eyes over, amending) "Well. Probably not. Now that we have help."

"So long as Hirim makes it back, yes. "

(Jeremy has indeed stilled, his mouth twisting downwards. But then he sets the knife down slowly, and whispers, quietly) "Come back at sundown."

(Ice wastes no time grasping the knob and hastening out)

Eyes flicking to Jeremy. "Is it. Erm. Something I can help with?" Her hand creeps up to scratch at one ear, then down to pull on one of the boots.

(Jeremy waits a moment, until Ice and Zara have gone, before his expression twists, and he raises a hand to cover his face)

(Ah, did Z leave too?)

Zara leaves with Ice, taking a moment for one concerned glance at the older sluagh

(Jeremy holds it together that long)

Her head tilts, and he can feel the weight shift on the bed as she leans a bit closer, watching him. "You okay to do this?" Her voice, uncharacteristically lacking it's harsh edge.

(He shakes his head wordlessly at the pooka, dropping hand. Then the moment passes and he gathers himself, removing and setting aside his glasses) "I needs be."

Her ears flick back. "Might not be any reason to help them. He's sure as hell doing his best to convince me not to. But I can help you, eh?

"I shall be busied, much of the day, Lady. I do not believe....it is aught, that may be help'ed with....albeit I know thou wouldst, an' thou couldst." (Gently)

"Thou hast nae skill at Legerdemain, do I recall."

"At such level."

"What are you witchin' up this time?" A pause, and a rustling noise. "I gots me some juice boxes, if you need. Apple. And I got a little bit. Just enough for the grabby, y'know? Ain't got no interest in shadows, though. That's your bag, ain't mine."

"I appreciate it, Lady. I may ask thee for.....aught, nearer the end." (A pause) "I do rather hope, that was his tongue escaping him, and not his true estimation."

(He sighs, and swirls the blood, easing his legs over the side)

She shifts her weight again. "Maybe, there's something I could do to help. Sneaky - they could use a bit of that, eh? That's my ticket, mostly. Served me well in the past. Feed a bit in, natch?"

(He pauses) "Thou art willing?"

"I would not ask it, Lady. But....aye, it may well help."

A pause, and the sound of a scratching hand on her ear once more. "What's it take?"