Excuse me please.
There’s something that’s been quite bothering me as of late, and now it’s getting a bit out of hand.
Please, please. Gather around, I’ve got some choice words to speak out.
Been quiet the past couple days because I had my orientation day yesterday
because I did ( somehow ) end up getting into Queensland College of Arts
Uni begins next week so my presence will be patchy until things settle
Kal’Reegar knew he probably shouldn’t be up and about, he’d been told he’d probably better off if just rested, but he wasn’t the kind of guy who could stand being confined to a bed, no matter how much he needed to be. He was lucky he’d been able to convince the staff that an hour or so of just wondering the hospital wouldn’t kill him.
Of course, he did get a couple of stares as he walked through the halls, he hadn’t seen any other Quarians during his stay, and when you added the publication of his arrival at Huerta, it only made sense.
His head turned as he heard his name, watching the woman who had approached him momentarily. She had to be the first other than the hospital staff to come up and speak to him.
“That I would be Ma’am. Kal’Reegar, not a ghost. Not dead yet, seem to try hard at it though.”
Naturally, Janelle was keeping tabs on any and all reports about her beloved Palaven. At the time, the fallen communications tower was of great concern to her organization. The Quarians valour and sacrifice was deeply appreciated, and unfortunate. To see death reject the hero, and set him back to the course of war, made her heart sing with the opportunity presented to her to thank him.
"Greetings," respectfully she rose from her seat and bowed. "It is a blessing to see you alive and healing. Your actions on Palaven were above and beyond the call of duty. I’m sorry for your squad, but thank you for what you all have done,” she almost gushed. The operative spoke not only for herself, but for all of Leviathan.
She dimmed her appreciative grin to a soft smile, linking her bandaged hands together behind her. “You’re tough. I was convinced the breaches to your exo-suit were the end of you. Will you be able to return to battle once you’ve healed?”
Janelle was all over the place; what was Kane to do when so low in knowledge of what it was that had her torn at the seams like this? From irritably she had gone to shrunken like a lost child — all in less than an amount of seconds one could count on a single hand. With a lower lip pressing against his upper, the man straightened his neck and eyed the Australian up ever observantly; he was intent on finding out what it was that had her so shaken, he decided the very moment a pause came between the first word of a barely finished sentence.
How he wished to place a hand upon her shoulder out of mere solace, but he wished not to startle her again or go beyond what she considered the boundaries of acquaintances. Instead, he let said sentiment guide the glistening sensation in his seal brown eyes; he truly felt for her.
With an apologetic expression splayed upon his face, the former Jedi attempted not to allow himself to take the knight’s latter words to heart like he so heavily inclined toward. “I know that,” the man uttered, “but if it truly is a matter barely t’ matter, than who’re you t’ let it shake you up the way it so visibly has, Ms. Vauthier?” Bollocks. Even after that one-time encounter, he had already developed the habit that was calling her by her last name. ” — Janelle, I mean. Uh,” he brought a hand to the back of his neck, releasing it prior to speaking already, “who would I be not t’ respect your wish of not telling me, aye? Please, at least allow me t’ take you where you’re headed — for company’s sake, perhaps?”
There was that look again. The gleam in his eye that was trying to console her, or trying to tell her he was genuinely sympathetic. She wasn’t so obviously agitated this time. She breathed it in as she stared with spent eyes, tried to let it touch her without snapping into volatility.
From omega, the knight remembered Kane’s blue, peaceful haze. It had transformed into a vapour, to travel down into her lungs with caution and timidity, like it knew it was walking on eggshells. Caught by surprise, it was thrashed in the tide of a tempest, the throbbing of her muscles a pained echo throughout the chambers of her left branch. It was a struggle to pass over into the space that boxed her heart. The atmosphere was stasis, and the core was erratic. Pause was given to test its own presence, to watch the palpitation with sorrow. With great delicacy it came forth, climbed up, and settled upon the top of her heart. Like a puppy snuggled into carpet it nuzzled into the top, and stayed.
It all happened in the time it took the broker to speak his lines. Silence followed his question. With a plain expression she stared for a moment, but the concentration was set elsewhere. Janelle tested the company that took to her heart space. There was no urge to expel it, but it was no magical solution to her emotional ailing. Instead, there was ease.
Rapid blinking brought her back to Kane. The toxic film that clouded her gifted orbs filtered with each blink, and the severe delirium in her hues settled to something of a lesser degree of crazed. A smirk tugged at her lips, and she was able to laugh in puffs, feeling how awkwardly her name feel from his lips. “Nevermind what I said about my name. Call me what you prefer,” she said.
Where was she headed? The eagle was set to fly back to her nest. “I’m returning home,” she revealed. “Of course. Come.” Turning herself with rigid movement, each step was painful, but she was accustomed to it. Next to him, she tried to walk absent the limp. It proved challenging.
"I didn’t think you were keeping your eye out for me," she started, remembering how he unexpectedly emerged from behind her, and the manner of his surprise. "Unless I speak with pretension, and you weren’t. How did you find me?"
damndestthing started following you
As she ghosted through the Heurta Memorial hospital, the wounded Infiltrator fussed with the fresh bandages wrapped around her knuckles. Janelle glared at the way the staff had hastily wrapped the white clothes. She would unravel and then ravel repeatedly, until finally it felt and looked correct. Absent-mindedly the dark woman took a seat, clenching and then unclenching her fists, to feel how the grated skin of her knuckles fared.
"Ow," she uttered half-heartedly. The combination of clothe and antiseptic stung, but nothing she couldn’t manage. The knight finally looked around, scanning over the staff and patients. Something peculiar to her left caught her eye.
"Excuse me," she called softly to the quarian. "Forgive me if I’m mistaken, or seeing ghosts, but are you Kal’Reegar?"
If there was a moment in existence where Kane had been so confused he knew not what next to do, this one - right then and there - would have been one worth taking note and notice of. With eyes glued to the maimed hands for as long as the moment of clear exasperation, the man could only wait for what was to come next. As far as he was aware, he’d done nothing wrong — aside from just so happening to have encounter the woman on a bad day.
Alas, that was what he had initially expected; her sudden snap caused him to shuffle back by a mere centimetre or so, frown significantly deepening at the sheer surprise he was confronted with as a follow-up to the first — that being the moment where he laid eyes upon Janelle while up in his own apartment. Aside from feeling shocked, a mere fragment of his being felt insulted for the assumption she dared make. “Don’t say things you’re not sure of,” the man countered in turn, hands finding the pockets of his jeans. Though his words were ones of harsh defence, he’d made sure the volume and intonation had gone none beyond that of a coo; what good would bringing more aggravation to her do?
“Aye, we all do, Janelle,“ he emphasised with a certain bitterness, “but that wasn’t exactly what I meant t’ imply. I don’t suppose you’d be willing t’ tell me what’s botherin’ you?” he alluded, eyes finding hers after a moment’s worth of aversion.
Janelle gulped heavily, and searched him over with her stormy eyes, darting about him like the answer would be in plain view. Of course he was correct. She shouldn’t assume. Her line of work should’ve taught her that. He just felt so homely to her. But there was one thing she found in plain sight - his body language. He cooed like a dove but he retreated from her like a cautious dog.
She almost winced when Kane finally spoke her first name. At that point she missed when he said Ms. Vauthier. It felt like a needle pricking into her. There came the slightest of frowns dragging down on her lips. She should’ve taken an exercise in humility and told him she was sorry. “I…” There was a pause. Spirits knows she was trying. It tasted like tart medicine was oozing out from the walls of her oesophagus as she tried to materialise the words. The knight knew she wouldn’t swallow the pride later.
"I’m sorry," she murmured, and she could’ve punched herself for the sour taste of it as it bomb-dived into her stomach. "No," she answered sadly, with a sigh and heavy shoulders. "It barely matters. You barely know me." And it was true. She couldn’t spill her heart out to an acquaintance, no matter how well they initially got off. It felt worse, feeling as if she was tearing the progress apart with her current state.