injury tw // – vvardenfellcat

Guilt- Aldaril/Jhasi

brothersofthedominion:

“Unless I get dish-…discharged er somthin’. I up n’ quit now, I may as well put my head on th’ choppin’ for desser- desertion.” Aldaril picked up the bottle, giving it a swirl, “ ‘Sides, when-when-… If I stop now, I canna– I can’t support th’ rest of my family– My aunt. Sh-shes the uh-… We’d be orphans on th’ street if not fer her.” He took another swig of the wine, head thumping on the support of the bed, “Rest of th’ family didn’t wan’ us… Icarus speshif–.. speh– fuck–specifically.”

He rested his face into his palms, fingers clutching onto his brows, “We were dumb kids, y’know- dumb an’–dumb and angry. Some Nords took a-a-a hit at uh– at our home. Next thing ya know, our cousin gets lopped in half in th’ Great War. Our uncle nearly follows an’ I gotta drag ‘im out of a legion camp and — an’–”

His fingers wrung the neck of the bottle. He could almost smell the metallic tang of blood, almost feel the warm fluid seeping into his arms as the recollections flooded his memory. His chest lifted rapidly before desperately taking the bottle into his mouth. He slammed the bottle down, missing the carpet; glass scatted across the floor in all directions. “Sleck!” The intoxicated mer cursed under his breath, glancing sheepishly at the khajiit, “S-… Sorry about that, cerum.”

J’hasi jumped at the sound of shattering glass, seeing the sharp shards of green scattering over the stone under them with a splattered puddle of wine. He huffed quietly, knowing that with the mer drunk, he was going to get more than one piece buried in his foot or something if he didn’t clean it up. He waved the Altmer off, pushing himself up into a crouch, starting to gather up the shards in a pile, his tail flicking slowly behind him as it smoothed out to its normal size.

“I see…” he murmured quietly, silent for a moment, pausing with his fingers touching a shard of glass before he hooked his claws under it, pulling it up and into his palm, the edge scraping the stone quietly before tinking against its fellows in the growing pile. The Khajiit took a slow breath as he worked on cleaning up before speaking again.

“I’m…sorry that your family was hurt. The war…wasn’t kind to anyone, least of all those who lost something important because of it…” J’hasi’s ears lowered, feeling emotion pool into his chest as he picked up the shards, reminded of Baht’s gleaming scales, all proud and excited to join the Blades…only to be shot down, an arrow piercing through his back, into his stomach…blood, blood everywhere…

Watching the fear in his eyes when he came back to scoop the Saxhleel up out of the snow, tears, whimpering as the last little bit of light in his eyes faded away…quiet, whispered panic in his hisses of Jel before…silence, nothing but dead air from dead lungs escaping into the frigid mountain winds…

J’hasi started a little at something hitting his thumb, looking down and seeing his fur was damp on the back of his hands, turning his face to swipe away the tears pooling up in his eyes before Aldaril could notice. He let out a slow breath, his voice sounding a little more fragile.

“I hope that you’re allowed to go home soon. Start a different career. Convince your brother to take up work where his mouth is less likely to get him into trouble, maybe.” he said, gathering up the last of the glass and looking at the wine dripping off the sharp edges.

“While it was a choice made out of anger, I hope it’s not one that costs you everything.”

Not a Free Healer- Alabyn/Jhasi

forgottenchampions:

The mer stared the khajiit deadpan in the face as the profanities were hurled at him. That was fine- two could play that game. <”Hold still and th-this wouldn’t be a p-p-problem.”> He responded rather curtly in surprisingly fluent Dunmeris. He exhaled, blonde strands of hair flew out of his face, before going back to the artery. He was nearly finished patching up the tissue before the khajiit jerked forward, undoing most of his work.

<“D-dammit, hold st-still y-y-you’re reopeni–”> Alabyn gritted his teeth, having enough difficulty patching up the small but potentially lethal cut in his shoulder. He stretched his lips thin and his eyes rolled as the khajiit spat out another set of obscenities. Seeing he was going to get nowhere with his… ‘patient,’ the mer clutched his shoulder to the chair– enough was enough. His cold blue eyes shot daggers at the khajiit.

<“Alright you.”> The mer raised his voice. <”For th-the record you have an-an open arter-uh-… artery. You c-c-can either bleed out or y-uh-.. you can hold still and– an-an-and let me do my godsd-damned job.”>

J’hasi’s face twisted into a snarl, a bit of panic rising when he was pinned in place, but flicking his ears back at the mer’s reprimand. He was going to throw up, he just knew it, everything was just… And he was getting cold… Where was…? The Khajiit’s teeth chattered in pain and shock before he hissed quietly.

“<Wh-who th’fuck are you?>” he snapped, shuddering as another wave of nausea washed over him, gagging a little but keeping the contents of his stomach down for now. He was wavering between pain and awareness versus weakness and unconsciousness and he wasn’t appreciating it with a stranger holding him down with their fingers buried two knuckles deep into his shoulder. J’hasi squeezed his eyes shut, teeth bared in a silent hiss. He wasn’t too keen on dying just yet, he still had a cure to find, but by the Hist this fetcher was not gentle in the least.

Not a Free Healer- Alabyn/Jhasi

forgottenchampions:

Alabyn huffed from his nostrils, brows furrowed. These were clean…?

“He’s not uh-… He’s not going to be a happy k-khajiit, but, but- b-… but he’ll pull through.”

He exhaled, the strong copper smell of that much blood was always a tad offensive to his nostrils. “N’chow…” He grumbled, pressing one of the rags firmly onto the puncture until he was ready to delve in for healing. “Alright. Going in on th-three… two…”

The mer shoved two fingers into the puncture wound, feeling for the pressure of flowing blood. <“Easy… Easy…”> The mer uttered in Dunmeris as he anticipated the Khajiit to start jerking around– for the past 200 or so years, it was nothing new for him to deal with patients like that, so it was generally the first thing to anticipate from them.

Always expect the worse and you’ll never be disappointed, yeah?

The Khajiit yowled at the sudden spike in pain, trying to squirm away from it, but unable to make much progress in his weakened state. His tongue, however, wasn’t nearly as hindered, yelping out a few choice curse words before he tried to grab for the offending arm to pull it away. J’hasi whimpered, ears flicking back as his teeth grit tight at the pain, eyes barely opening to see someone, blurry and way closer than expected. He bared his fangs in a hiss at the attempt at reassurance.

“<Hurts!>” he snapped, trying to pull at the mer’s arm again, but not having any more success than the first attempt. The most he managed to do was to make himself pass out from pain again for a moment, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head before the next stabbing sensation brought him back to the surface, hissing out something exceptionally vulgar that the bystander Nords thankfully couldn’t understand.

Dagur looked uncertain, unsure if he should help or…maybe just leave the healer to his work.

Under Saarthal – Icarus/J’hasi

brothersofthedominion:

“GET BACK HERE, YOU MANGY ANIMAL!” Icarus bellowed as he struggled in comparison to the cat getting through the snow. He aimed another firebolt, but it extinguished before he could fire. He spat curses in Altmeris, even with the new amulet, his magicka was lacking. Nonetheless, the justiciar hurled threats and curses at the Khajiit while all the while attempting to rekindle enough energy for another firebolt. Buts this godsdamned snow. The cat was getting away, and Icarus was not having any of it.

Moments later, if the cat could hear him from the far distance he gained on the mer, he’d hear him cackling like a mad elf as the justiciar plowed through melting snow, bright flames spewing through his hands, empty magicka bottles chucked behind him. “YOU CAN’T RUN FOREVER, CAT!” the mer laughed manaically, slowing catching up to the black khajiit as the snow depth began to die down. Once the snow went up to his ankles, he aimed a couple more firebolts at the cat.

Blinded by rage and hate, the mer failed to realize that they had both entered Winterhold, failed to notice the panicked townsfolk and the guards chasing after him. More importantly, failed to noticed that he aimed a firebolt at the inn that the cat had run into.

It was one of those few moments that it was fortunate Ancano was in the area. The superior mers eyes widened as he scrambled up a ward to repel the firebolt within seconds, saving the town from his irresponsible subordinate.

Ancano grabbed the frenzied Altmer, a troubled look appeared on the older mers face as he saw the guards surround them. The mer cleared his throat, “I have this under control!” Ancano shooed away the guards, “No damage appears to be done and everyone is unharmed! Return to whatever it is you were doing! Official Thalmor business!”

The guards mumbled to themselves before spreading out, but not before threatening that they had their eyes on the pair. As they scattered, Ancano took his focus to his subordinate, who was still shouting Altmeris obsceneties to the Khajiit inside. A scowl slowly turned into an angry display of teeth on Ancanos face.

“You ingrate!” Ancano spat as he clonked the smaller mer over the head. “Are you trying to get us all kicked out of the college. I should have had you exp-” His eyes caught glimpse of the amulet around his neck and the amulet in his hand. “What is this?!” Ancano hissed as he snatched both from the justiciar.

“Wait! Nononono– I need that! Sir! That helps my magicka somehow!” Icarus scrambled to reach the necklace from his superiors grasp.

“Absolutely not. You amazingly manage to be a irresponsible threat to the people while magickally handicapped. I don’t need to worry myself when you have a full supply. Now whats the o-” Ancano paused the second he got a closer look at the other amulet.

He knew he had seen that amulet before.

…

Wait a moment…

“Where… Where did you get this?” Ancano inquired sternly.
“What- that?” Icarus pointed at the smaller of the two amulets, “What are you talking about- I’ve had that since I was a child.”
“Elaborate.”
“I’m-I’m sorry what?” Icarus stammered, confused.
“Where did you get that amulet?!” Ancano interrogated, the his clenched fist inches from the smaller Altmers face. The amulet swung back and forth between his knuckles.

“What- I- Wh-” Icarus stumbled away from the overbearing mer, “From my mother. Said its supposed to be something she got from my father.” He was very much confused. “The hells this about anyways?”

Ancano exhaled deeply, “… It’s nothing.” He took in mind the broken chain, “The other student damaged this, I assume?”

“Yes, sir…?”
“Very well. I’ll see this gets repaired. I’ll speak with the Archmage and see if the khajiit can cover repair expenses since it was his doing. It may take a couple weeks if I can’t find a blacksmith in the area, however, so I hope you are okay with that. Worse case scenario, your colleague is buying you a new chain.”
Icarus was incredibly confused about the sudden and unexpected kindness. However, he was not one to complain if the coin was not coming out of his pocket.”Really? I would appreciate that. I um… Thank you sir.”
“Mm.” Ancano hummed, a stern expression still on his face. His eyes shot a glare at Icarus. “Now get back to the college!” He barked, “We don’t pay you to screw around at an expensive institution!”
Icarus scrambled in the direction leading to the campus “Yes sir!!”

Ancano inhaled, stuffing the amulet in his pocket, no intention of either speaking to Savos or getting the jewelry repaired, “Well this should be interesting…”

J’hasi’s back slammed against the door, gasping for breath, clutching at his shoulder. He could hear yelling outside, pressing his ear to the wood, listening while also trying to find a way out. Dagur peered at him from behind the bar, confused and then shocked at the sight of blood streaking down the front of the Khajiit’s robes.

…the yelling stopped.

He tried to listen more closely with the pounding of his heart in his ears, his ragged breathing…and then it was quiet outside, aside from the growing howl of wind.

The Khajiit let out a whoosh of breath, relaxing slightly. Safe. For now. He just…he needed to sit down…

…or he could meet the floor rather abruptly. That worked too. J’hasi groaned thinly, seeing bright red at the edge of his vision before his eyes closed.

💀

Of course the roads around Riften had to be just as bad as the city.

The arrow had come as a surprise, burying itself deeply into his shoulder and knocking him off Ghost’s back with a yelp. The mare snorted and shifted uneasily as he hissed, rolling onto his side, pain radiating not only from his shoulder but now his head too from the landing. He heard the creak of a bow again in the trees.

“Go!” he snapped, the horse bolting ahead, towards Riften. He pushed himself up with his good arm, ears flicked back at the Imperial that was rushing towards him, a Nord further back by the trees, nocking another arrow. J’hasi huffed, backing up as he pulled out his dagger from its sheathe at his back, flipping it in his hand into a reverse grip, bringing it in front of him as he watched the Imperial grin, their shortsword likely to cause him problems if he wasn’t quick enough. He swayed a little, tail left to drag a bit in the dirt before he stopped, the bandit closer to him stopping a little too abruptly and leaving them a little off-balance.

He struck, punching them in the nose first, dropping back a little too late when a curse and a swipe of the blade left a burning line of pain over his cheek. Again, this time a fist burying itself into the Imperial’s gut, doubling them over as they gasped, airless. A knee brought up to slam into their face, blood gushing from their already-broken nose before he grabbed them from behind in a headlock, dagger at their throat while his other hand grabbed their sword-arm wrist, claws sinking into soft skin and tendon until they let go, dropping their weapon into the dirt.

“Don’t make me cut your throat. Leave me be and you’ll live.” The Imperial huffed, struggling in his grip. The Nord nocked another arrow and aimed.

“We’ll leave when you give us all you got, cat.” J’hasi hissed, then let go and dropped back when the arrow was released, the fletching brushing his hood before he drove his dagger into the Imperial’s kidney, twisting and pulling back again at the scream. He darted out from behind them, rushing the Nord, skidding across leaf litter to dodge another arrow before he slammed the butt of his palm up into their jaw, knocking their head back, leaving their throat exposed.

J’hasi sheathed his blade up and under their ribcage instead, hands scrabbling against his shoulders, a grip fastening around his neck before they weakened, coughing up blood and wheezing.

The Khajiit huffed, drawing back from the bandit as they fell to the ground, wincing at the cut over his cheek, hand gripping at his shoulder. He sighed, then froze when he smelled-

“B-Brielle! U-um…” J’hasi swallowed, ears pulling back, eyes wide with a bit of panic, flicking between the Breton and the dead Nord at his feet.

“I-I…um. I-I can explain…”

Opia

Opia: The ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.

His head throbbed, an eye swelling shut, and the Khajiit was sure that was blood he was tasting in his mouth. His tongue pushed at his teeth, anxious that one of them would give way under a press like they did in his nightmares so many times. The Redguard helping him walk got him to a stack of crates in the alley alongside the inn, whatever it was called in Ta’agra…Ta’agran? Whichever it was, it was exactly what came out of the stranger’s mouth, at least…he was pretty sure it was. It sounded sorta like it, though it was hard to tell with his head spinning. What they said though, that was a total mystery to the dizzy Khajiit. He caught one or two words, but nothing he could use to gain insight into what was said.

“<Do not talk good. Cyrodilic? Yes?>” By the Hist, it was even harder with a swollen cheek and that dizzying pain in his head. The Redguard laughed, saying something else a little quieter, getting far too close to his face, the Khajiit baring his teeth a little before they stopped and frowned.

“<…hurt?>” J’hasi nodded, adding a little spinning gesture with his finger, hoping that portrayed the dizziness that worsened even at the little nod. He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to keep his stomach from tossing up the water he’d drank, as well as the couple drinks…he didn’t even get to eat his meal did he?

He jumped, smacking away the hand that touched his face with a snarl, wobbling a little before falling off of the crate with a groan, curling up in the dust. The Redguard planted hands on their hips, muttering something before crouching down, pushing him onto his back.

“<Head hit, hurt bad. Sit still.>” The Khajiit spat out a few curses in Jel and Dunmeris alike as he pushed himself to sit up, feeling like he was going to fall right back over before the stranger grabbed him by the front of his shirt at the shoulders, righting him and pushing him against the crates. They were the only thing keeping him up to be honest, he really just wanted to lay down somewhere soft for a little bit… He flinched when the Redguard reached for his face again, giving him a stern look to keep him still before a gentle thumb pushed his eye open a little more, their own looking into his.

It was way too uncomfortable. Those eyes were too much like Jeer’s. He looked away, pushing their hand away from his face again.

“<No.>” The stranger huffed, frowning and looking very impatient with him. More muttered Ta’agra before they spoke up, speaking with the smaller words again.

“<Home? Here? Or no?>” J’hasi huffed, giving the barest shake of his head. The stranger looked at him for a few moments, then sighed, pulling him up to his feet again.

“<Come. Safe place.>” The Khajiit attempted to protest…which might’ve been more effective if he hadn’t suddenly turned to vomit in the alley, nearly losing his balance in the process. It was probably the only reason to be grateful for the firm grip keeping him upright. The last thing he needed was to fall into his own mess.

[Part One]

4E 132, Valenwood

J’hasi panted, trying to keep his footfalls muffled in the leaf litter, but every movement he made sounded like thunder in his ears. Maybe it was his heartbeat making all that noise, but every snap of a twig sounded like lightning cracking, echoing in the forest, each breath a gust of wind, letting the hunter pursuing him know exactly where he was.

He couldn’t tell where they were, how close, his own breath and footfalls were making it harder for him to listen for the other set of footsteps in the underbrush, the hiss of another arrow, hell, even the panting of the mer as they kept pace with him, holding back until…

How in Oblivion did they know what he was? He’d gotten so good at concealing his condition, hadn’t slipped up in months… The Khajiit gasped for breath, stumbling on a log and nearly losing the grip on his dagger, a push of his spare fingers on the ground and he was back on his feet proper, his (most likely) broken arm pressed against his chest, running away from the scent of the hunter, leather and oil, his own blood… His wounds were making him easier to track, scarlet splattering and marking his trail behind him over the branches and rocks-

J’hasi yelped as he tripped, tumbling head over tail into the undergrowth and decaying leaves, panting and gasping for air with the heat of blood leaking into his fur and soaking his tunic, down to his leg… He sucked in a quick breath to lick at his lips, heart fluttering and throat dry with panic as he scrambled back up to his feet, gritting his teeth at the pain of his wounds aggravated by the fall, trying not to make any more noise than he already was. He felt like he was being run down like a deer-

The Khajiit stopped dead.

Why was he running? He would only tire himself and slowly bleed out. It was just like his own hunts, it was easier to take down a deer when it panicked, moving in for the kill after they’d exhausted themselves-

‘Calm down.’

J’hasi took in a few deep breaths, wincing at the pull of his flesh against the shafts buried into muscle, sharp zings of pain through his arm. His hands were still shaking with adrenaline, and he needed them steady.

‘Breathe…think… You’re faster, stronger, and more dangerous than they are… Just…don’t panic…’

The Khajiit let a breath slip between his teeth, carrying his fluttery panic out of his chest and stomach like he’d been taught, eyes focused as he pushed himself up onto his feet despite the shakiness of his legs. His ears were alert, eyes watching as his heart roared in his head… J’hasi swallowed down the metallic taste in his mouth before leaving the mess of disturbed vegetation from his fall behind, his hands trembling, but less from adrenaline and more from pain.

He wasn’t sure how the hunter knew that he was a werewolf, or why they weren’t trying to use silver on him, but the initial chase was probably just to weaken him before trying when he was slowed down, more likely to be hit and less likely to hit back properly. …or if he made himself bigger.

J’hasi frowned, brows furrowing while he caught his breath, listening for any sounds in the forest. He heard the soft rustling behind him, at least a bowshot away. It was when he heard the slight creak of the string that he bolted again despite the screaming pain in his adrenaline-weakened legs, his wounds, hearing the sharp curse before he darted into the undergrowth.

4E 132, Valenwood

He’d only left Silvenar a few days ago, and already he was sure he was lost. J’hasi groaned quietly, rolling up his map with irritation. While Valenwood’s dense forests weren’t something foreign to him, and in fact the footing and local flora and fauna were significantly easier to handle than back home in Black Marsh…he had no idea if he’d gotten turned around or not. Even a source of water could serve as a landmark, but the dirt under his feet was drier than he’d expect out of a rainforest.

The Khajiit slipped his map back into his pack. He’d just have to keep heading south. Even if he wasn’t going far enough east, he’d hit the coast eventually. He couldn’t find the thrice-damned ‘walking city’ of Falinesti, which had been his best hope for sources for a cure, but nooo. It had to traipse off into the heart of the forested province every winter. J’hasi scowled, hopping off the twisted roots he’d been crouched on, his tail giving a sharp, irritated swish behind him. He just had to be patient. From what he’d heard, Southpoint and Haven, whichever one he came across first didn’t take lively strolls every season.

He’d hardly taken more than a few dozen steps before he felt something shift against his ankle. A snap, a sudden blast of pain against the back of his skull, and then his world was suddenly upside down and a lot higher off the ground than before. J’hasi let out a string of curses, wobbling and clutching his head. It was once he pulled his hands away that he saw some blood on his fingers, hissing out another curse before trying to steady himself and his heartbeat. He looked down- well…up, spotting a twisted rope, looking like it was made from vines and strips of bark wrapped around his ankle. He sighed, letting himself hang for a few moments to think. At least no one was around to see him dangling here…

The Khajiit huffed, touching the back of his head again and finding more blood, closing his eyes against the wave of nausea before trying to reach for…

His dagger was missing.

J’hasi looked around, spotting his spear laying on the ground (no surprise), but also the shiny glint of steel on the forest floor far below. He cursed, looking up to check and see if the one strapped to his leg was still there. Thankfully, it was. J’hasi wasn’t quite sure how he’d get down, but cutting the snare was his first priority. He took a few deep breaths, then curled up at the waist, reaching for his dagger. It was when he was nearly there, fingertips brushing the bone hilt that he felt lightheaded, dropping back down, trying not to get sick while wobbling back and forth. He tried again once he was still once more, his claws catching on the bone, his eyes widening with anticipation…only for the dagger to come unsheathed, slip between his fingers, and tumble to the forest floor below.

“<Oh COME ON!>” he snarled, dropping back to hang. His ankle was starting to ache, and now he had nothing but his teeth and claws to cut the rope. J’hasi huffed, unshouldering his pack and looking at it before grimacing.

“<…please stay shut.>” he quietly pleaded with the bag before letting it drop, wincing at the sound of something breaking inside far below. The flush of embarrassment burned under his pelt as he twisted around, grabbing the rope and attempting to climb up it. It was when he’d started to pick at the snare around his ankle that he heard the creak of a bowstring, ears pricking. He looked down to see a Dunmer standing on the roots of a tree, aiming a gleaming ebony arrow right for him.

“<Stay right there, fetcher, and I’ll make this quick.>” J’hasi’s eyes widened, letting go once the arrow was loosed, hearing a curse from the archer before they whipped out a dagger, cutting the line fastened just behind them. The Khajiit cursed, twisting around and landing on all fours, hissing in pain from the shock transferring up his limbs. He lifted up an arm and pressed it to his chest, fairly certain that the unsettling crack he’d heard from it wasn’t a good sign. The Dunmer jumped into the leaf litter with a thump, drawing their bow again.

“<Make this easy on yourself and don’t try to run. I’ll fill you full of arrows before you make the edge of the clearing.>” they growled. J’hasi huffed, looking up at them, the cloth around their mouth and nose leaving only their eyes exposed, hood drawn up against the dappled sunlight that faded and grew through the minimal gaps in the leafy canopy above and the clouds even higher than that. The Khajiit shifted, the mer redoubling their grip on their bow.

“<Last warning, cat.>” J’hasi scowled.

“<I don’t have any money, so you can piss off.>” The Dunmer chuckled darkly.

“<Oh, it’s not money I’m after. It’s you. You and every other supernatural piece of garbage that walks Tamriel. Now sit still so I can kill you quickly.>” The Khajiit darted for his dagger, managing to grab the bone-handled one and the haft of his spear, only to drop the latter when the arrow fired, sinking into his shoulder as he bolted. J’hasi gasped, still running, another arrow just narrowly missing his leg, a third striking him in the side once he broke into the denser forest.

[Part Two]