Rude Awakenings

Pain. Why must my whole body ache so. My eyes are heavy and my mind fuzzy as I attempt to focus on the image before me. A... wall? This is not a wall I am familiar with. Such construction is foreign and barbaric. Where is the aesthetic in a wall like that? My gaze stumbles to the left and I see the wall continue on toward a stream of people shuffle, pushing, and meandering about. Their caucus of voices sounds like the English I was taught but it is twisted and drawn out like honey. "Harro?" my voice is softer and more stilted than I would like as my Japanese fights to flow through me. Not now, no one will be able to understand me now.

Closing my eyes, I fight to steady my throbbing head. Just what has happened and how did I get here? No, not now. Now I must focus on getting out there and getting my bearings. That is what must come first. Shifting against the hard cobblestone alley, I begin to rise. I feel the sword of my ancestors at my waist and instantly feel a rush of relief. At least I have not been robbed in my darkness.

Finally on my feet, I turn and instantly yelp as a pain shoots through my side. It's then that I realize my side is damp. I've been cut? But how? My mind is abuzz with questions and I can do nothing to stop the onslaught of fear and discomfort that melds within me. This cannot be real. None of this can be real. I must be dreaming. Mother said the demons would come eventually; but this?

Fighting back tears of loneliness, I shuffle forward towards the people. Before I can get there though, my senses are assaulted by a beast nearly twice my size. A demon. They've finally come for me... I stumble backwards but the wall beside me keeps me from falling backwards. His horns are sharp, large and curved towards the night sky. His deep breaths coming out in steam past his oxen muzzle. And the stench, gods the smell of him was overbearing. It was something akin to an entire farm mixed together in a lather and spread over him. "鬼"

He took a step towards me and I stumbled and leaned into the wall further for support. The edges of my vision began to go hazy but I pressed against it. Now would not be a proper time to black out again. Placing my back to the wall, I fought to steady the world and stop it from spinning. Hooves thudded before me and all at once my vision was finite once more. I could feel his hot sticky breath on my head and face and my stomach lurched. I was going to be devoured by a demon.

Tracking Ignacy is easier this time, what with Liam's trinkets, but there's still the usual Nightside crowd to push through. We go winding through the streets into Clubland. Neon light gleams like the gems of a whore from every direction, loud laughter rips through the air, colored with hunger and hysteria. I stuff my hands in my pockets. I hate Clubland. Too much noise and madness.
We keep to the edge of the throng as much as we can, though it's difficult on the crowded sidewalks not to be jostled this way and that by all the merrymakers, out looking for their own private heavens and hells.
A snarling snake with feathers all along its back pushes its ways through the throng, and I swiftly step out of the way, almost into an alley.
There's a loud, bovine snort behind me, and I whip around, my knife already in my hand.
A satyr is standing there, and not the pretty kind with pan pipes. This is a dark satyr, great rams horns curling around its head, a heavy, musky pelt covering it from head to foot. Its hooves are like platters, and black as flint. It turns its wide, ugly sheep's face to me, then snorts and turns back.
It's then that I see the girl. Tiny and thin, with wide, delicate Asiatic features. In the darkness, she glows like fine porcelain, like moonlight. Blood stands out stark and red against her perfect skin. Her slanting eyes are wide; I can see the whites all the way around the iris.
Anger wells up like a river in spring.
"Oi!" I shout. Slowly, the creature's wide head turns. I brandish my blade. "Hey! Yes, you, you son of a sheep and a bored Scot. Get back from her.Now."
For a moment, it only glares at me,its slow intellect working up to anger. Then it bellows. I grin. "Come on and see if you're hard enough, mutton-chops."

A woman's voice cuts through the night alley air but I am unable to look away from the demon before me. I whisper a prayer to my father; I will meet him soon. But then I watch as the beast turns, it no longer wants me? It wants.... It wants... The voice.

Turning my gaze to toward the origin I finally see the woman with a bustling crowd as her backdrop. Why was she speaking up in such a way? Though, given the circumstances, could she really say it was a bad thing? Her thick honey English flowed from her lips and I fought to process it. She wished to battle a demon? Was she mad?

I can feel Djhuety close on my left, and Liam tense and ready on my right. But with any luck this would be over before they needed to fight. Satyrs might be strong, but they're about as thick as two bricks.
"Come on then!" I call in a mocking singsong, and let the sense of insult and insolence grow and infuse my voice. "Come on, you wasted semen of the old goat god. Come have a try." I know this is insane, but I've got to get him away from the girl, and this is the only way.
The creature bawls out a cry, and flings himself forward.

I watch in shock as the demon flings himself towards the woman and her entourage. Surely there will be no survival for her. I... I must help. The demon was after me not that woman. I must stand and fight. For father's sake and honor I must fight. Gripping the sheath of my family heirloom, I slowly, and shakily, draw the blade. If the beast chooses to turn and have me instead, I will defend my right to die as a samurai woman.

I stand stockstill, waiting as the creature begins to charge. Wait for it, I tell myself, wait for it, he has to be going nearly at top speed for this to work...
Now the satyr is running hard, his head down to ram. I smirk. Perfect.
Raising my voice, I sing out, calling on the air itself, reminding it of the time when it was frozen out between the stars. Remember, remember, remember how that felt....
And then I grin as the satyr runs into what is essentially a solid wall. His own momentum and weight behind him puts him into it with enough force to knock him out cold. I grin, winking at my friend and my beloved. "That works on satyrs every time. Thick as a brick sandwich."
Then my glance falls on the girl again, and my grin falters. She's still standing against the wall, eyes wide and terrified, hand on the sword at her side as if it's a lifeline, not a weapon. With a glance at the men, I step forward. If she isn't what she seems, they'll be there, but if she is what she seems, she needs help. Stepping gingerly around the musky hulk of the unconscious satyr, I step close to the girl. "Hey, you okay?" I ask, cocking my head. Her eyes turn to me. "You're bleeding." I say softly, "How bad is it?" But she only stares, giving no answer.

Seeing the bulky demon knock himself out cold forced me to sigh in relief and lean my back back against the wall. All at once I realize my side is aching once more. With a light wince, my sword is sheathed and I press against the wound. My blood is staining through from all my movement and I have no idea the depth or scope of the wound. Not to mention, I'm in an unknown place with damaged clothes; what would mother say...

The woman's voice from before cuts into my mind and breaks my muddled thoughts. Slowly, her honey speak is beginning to make sense. "Bad?" I follow her gaze to me side and realize she means my wound. She is asking if I am alright. "I...I don't know... I... I woke here... and had it..."

"It's okay. You'll be fine." I smile encouragingly, holding out my hand, throwing on the necessary glamour as I pull it from my pocket.

I watch as she holds out her hand and wonder what she means by such an action. I am myself and my body reflects my spiritual nature through cleanliness, and aesthetic. Why on earth would anyone willingly want to offer their own hand in such a fashion when they can never know for certain where the other hand has been? Not only does the gesture not make sense to me, but I would rather be far more respectful of the woman that has helped me. Instead of taking her hand, I bow firm and deep as a woman should. Gritting my teeth, I force myself to push past the sharp searing pain from my wound.

"You... You know a doctor?" My English is slowly flowing back to me as I right myself; sucking air in between my teeth.

I bark out a laugh "in this place don't go to the doctors unless they are The Doctors, but even then be careful" te spear which had started to unwind coils back around my arm and I take out a packet of tobasco I took from the guilder cage and poor some generously on the nose and ears of the satyr. Looking at the others "what pan and I never got along"

I wince as the girl bows. Damn, with a wound like hers that must hurt. "Keep it simple, she doesn't speak English as a first language I think." I mutter, and then catch the girl's eyes again. There's a flash of...something, under the fear...but it's gone again. I glance from the girl to the lads. Damn it. If we don't get after Ignacy he could land in real trouble...but if we leave this girl, she's dead. Clueless and lost in the Nightside, she'd be like a sausage thrown into the middle of a wolfpack. And she's bleeding. Blood scent brings a lot of things, fast.
I sigh, then meet the girl's eyes again and smile. "We can help. We know a safe place."

I wince as standing is now beginning to affect my disposition towards standing. "A safe...place? 何処? Ah... Where? Will you take me?" The pain in my side is slowly making the edges of my vision darken but I refuse to slip into the darkness again. My grip on my sword tightens as I beg my father to give me strength.

I cock my head. Was that...Mandarin? No, Japanese. I haven't spoken it in a very long time, but I give it a shot. "I am a healer. I can take you to my home, safe...." damn what's the word for and? "heal you."

I fight not to let loose my emotions as I hear my native tongue awkwardly fight through her honeyed pronunciation. I switch back into my mother tongue hoping to get my thoughts across to her better. "Thank you very much. Is your home nearby? If it is too far, you should not trouble yourself with me." My words were laced with honorifics. This woman, this elder sister, had saved me from a demon. By that alone, I should pledge myself to her. In this state though, such a pledge would be meaningless. Instead, I will just focus on showing her with my words.

I nod. "It is not very...it is close." the words are like sticks on my tongue, but I think I said that right. "Come, we will help you walk." I take one of her hands. "Liam, give me a hand here. We leave her out here and she's done for."
It's awkward at first, until Liam dispenses with niceties and simply carries the girl, who can't weigh more than two stone anyway. I push open the door of our apartment. "Set her in on the living room floor. Kaija," I say, spotting her on the couch, "grab a pillow for the girl's head. I need to get her settled so I can see how bad this wound is."

Quietly, I whisper something to Tremilee who runs and grabs me a pillow with a solemn stare on her face, she knows as I do that the maid is in rough shape. *My name is Kaija, should you need anything you must only think it.* I place into the woman's mind.

I lay my hand on the girl's arm. If she's human she can't be more than...what, seventeen? Eighteen? Twenty tops.
"She's bleeding quite a bit." I try a phrase of Japanese, then curse. "Damn, I can't figure out how to say 'I need to see under your clothes.'

I can only look about the room in confusion from the man's arms. This home is so small and confined, how do they feel the spirits in a place like this. Surely they must feel stifled. A hiss of pain leaves my lips as I am lowered onto what I can only assume is some sort of oddly folded bed. My left hand grip the sheath of my sword; white knuckled. I know these people say they mean to help but everyone can have two faces. My gaze moves to the woman who saved me and I speak to her in my mother tongue. "Elder sister, you spoke of a doctor... I mean no intrusion but will he take long to arrive?"

I only caught a few of the girl's words, something about a doctor. I smile, hoping I look professional and encouraging."I will heal."

Djehuty looks at the strange woman he and his companions rescued from the streets; a petite thing, tragically out of place in the grime of the Nightside, clinging to a sword and too weak of blood lose to stand of her own power. He moves away a moment, and looks about to speak, when he pauses, a bemused expression on his face. Turning instead to the wall, he tells it in a clear voice, "Within this house, all languages are one, and under this roof, all shall understand the words of another." A shudder of reality, and he turns back to the girl and Liv. "Ok, now that the language barrier is solved for the moment, lets find out how to patch your new foundling, Love."

*You're looking at her, kiddo* I smile as Tremilee nuzzles the girl's face in an attempt to comfort her.

I sigh in relief. "Thank gods. I was getting sick of trying to play 'find the word'." Then I turn to the girl. "I'm going to need to examine this wound so I can see what needs to be done. Is that all right?"

The world felt like it rippled as the man spoke and then suddenly, the fog of language simply... was gone. "How...? What?" My gaze jumps from person to person hoping to find out just what is going on. First a demon and now spirits? The words of my savior lady floated to me. "You are all not human. If.. If I disrobe you will eat of me."

I chuckled softly, placing my hand in hers and taking away her sword *You only need to worry about Ignacy, and he's not here...you are safe in my care. Liv is your friend*

I can help but laugh gasping out between breaths "Sorry girly i am not ready for that kind of commitment" shaking my head i walk into the kitchen to get some water for the lot of us.