Comforting Actions for Kitty

[James Vaughn]

( blood ) : one muse wipes blood off of the other.

@kitty

[Deleted]

kitty & james.

There were a million thoughts running through her head, as her hand lifted, gently dabbing at another spot of blood on his face. There was no reason for Kitty to be across this side of town, no reason for her to be helping a stranger, especially in such a situation...but she could hardly help herself. What was she meant to do — leave the poor man alone, covered in blood? She hadn't asked questions. At this point, she was hardly sure whether all of the blood was his, or if some of it belonged to someone else, but it was probably best if she didn't know either way. She was attempting to do a kind thing, do the right thing, if he'd done something bad, she didn't need to hear of it.

Instead of posing any questions of that ilk, she allowed her gaze to settle on his face, focusing on his eyes, rather than the spots of blood, for the first time. She wanted to ask what happened, ask who'd done this to him, but some part of her was almost scared to hear the answer. He wasn't someone she recognised, certainly not someone from high society...she knew, deep down, that he wasn't the kind of company she was supposed to keep. It hardly mattered now, she'd been there long enough. "I likely shouldn't ask, should I? I doubt I'll like the answer."  

James Vaughn

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[James Vaughn]

TAG: @kitty

i have sworn

TO DO VERY FOOLISH THINGS

Vaughn's irrational and unpredictable anger did indeed get the best of him at times. Which, was not always a good thing considering his status as a fugitive. Any man still engaging in piracy was considered as such. But that would hardly deter the captain. It only fueled his hatred for those who used men like him when convenient, to make them rich and flood them with wealth . . . only to now toss them aside like cattle. Dispose of them, as if they were nothing. As if they did nothing.

So when he began to engage in a nobleman, things had escalated. Words were exchanged, and the crowd at the bar had built. He hadn't killed the man, but Vaughn had brutally attacked him enough to cover himself with blood. Unfortunately, someone had called for the Bow Street Runners and they attempted to restrain him. Resulting in Vaughn's own injuries. He was fortunate to make an escape -- something he was quite accustomed to -- but not as speedily as he would have liked. He had to slow to a halt, barley conscious before a woman came to his aid. He had managed to outrun the fools, but he knew he would have to play a part if he was to avoid her turning him in. He would have to do something completely against his very nature: be kind.

Mneeting her eyes to attempt to build a connection with her -- to his advantage -- and not even certain if it would work, he responded to her statement. "It is not a story meant for a lady's ears," he told her. He hated speaking words that oozed such consideration and care for another. Especially as she too was a noblewoman. No better than the rest, and how he loathed them. How he hated them. She was no exception to his sweeping generalization of all nobles and royals . . . despite the fact that she was actually helping him. "What is your name? So that I may know the woman who helped me, and aim to repay my debt to her." Mainly, he wished to know so that he could learn more of her. Find out who she was, and whether this situation could be swayed to his advantage somehow. More, advantageous than the simple fact that she was aiding him.

[Deleted]

kitty & james.

The sight of blood didn’t bother her as much as it perhaps should. Her father had seldom been in her life when she was young, always stationed somewhere or other, but she’d seen him often enough — far more than she saw her husband now, than her own children saw their father. She was a lady of high society, but she was also the daughter of a soldier — injuries were something she didn’t allow to bother her too much. It may have been different if he were in a worse state, but she could handle this. “I’ve seen much worse. My father was a soldier,” she offered, her voice gentle. “As is my husband.” Any fondness or affection in her tone disappeared entirely, the words more of an afterthought. If he was ever injured in the battlefield, his courtesans were far more likely to know about it. She was only his wife, after all.

Deft, gentle fingers wiped away the last of the blood, and she felt herself shiver. It had nothing to do with Vaughn himself — she had no clue who he was, after all — and everything to do with her not being remotely used to such gentle touch with another adult. At least now it looked as if the majority of it was gone, she could keep her hands firmly to herself. All she was trying to do was help, but it could still look inappropriate to the wrong set of watching eyes. She was hardly going to avoid helping someone just because they were alone, however. “Kitty. Langham,” she paused only briefly. Not everyone knew of the general, a for that she was grateful. “And I can assure you, you owe me nothing. Might I inquire of your name?”

James Vaughn

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