Edwin Payne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
technicallyhellbound) wrote2025-09-06 12:41 am
technicallyhellbound) wrote2025-09-06 12:41 am
Ghostcat shenanigans
It had been a few weeks since they'd started this arrangement, and so far the Cat had, in fact, been a surprising amount of help. Enough so that Charles had stopped being mostly on-guard while in his presence and had even taken the 'puppy' nickname in stride, though he still hadn't really looked too deeply at why it didn't bother him as much as it probably should.
That particular day was neither a Monday nor a Friday, and was in fact a Wednesday, so while it wasn't one of their scheduled briefings, it was a visit that had been arranged in advance, a few hours while Crystal and Charles were at a concert, the kind of thing that while Edwin enjoyed being invited to, really wasn't the kind of thing he actually enjoyed going to, and the others both knew it, which was why they continued to invite him, even if he always declined.
It was late afternoon, not yet early evening when he stepped out of the mirror into the cannery, tugging at the collar of his slipover in much the same way he did the lapels of his usual jacket. He'd been branching out from his usual look, just a little, in bits and pieces, and now had something of a range of shades of those softer jumpers, this one was a deep bottle-green and was nearly a cowl-neck, but definitely less severe than his usual look.
It had been raining in London, or rather it had been misting heavily, and he wasn't quite sure if it was still raining here or if it had just finished, there wasn't the same kind of moisture in the air, which meant that if it was raining it hadn't been doing so for long, and all he knew was that the Cat had something planned for them to do, he was only now considering that he probably should have asked a few more questions beforehand.
That particular day was neither a Monday nor a Friday, and was in fact a Wednesday, so while it wasn't one of their scheduled briefings, it was a visit that had been arranged in advance, a few hours while Crystal and Charles were at a concert, the kind of thing that while Edwin enjoyed being invited to, really wasn't the kind of thing he actually enjoyed going to, and the others both knew it, which was why they continued to invite him, even if he always declined.
It was late afternoon, not yet early evening when he stepped out of the mirror into the cannery, tugging at the collar of his slipover in much the same way he did the lapels of his usual jacket. He'd been branching out from his usual look, just a little, in bits and pieces, and now had something of a range of shades of those softer jumpers, this one was a deep bottle-green and was nearly a cowl-neck, but definitely less severe than his usual look.
It had been raining in London, or rather it had been misting heavily, and he wasn't quite sure if it was still raining here or if it had just finished, there wasn't the same kind of moisture in the air, which meant that if it was raining it hadn't been doing so for long, and all he knew was that the Cat had something planned for them to do, he was only now considering that he probably should have asked a few more questions beforehand.
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There was only a brief moment, calculating distance and potential for splash if he missed before tilting the cup carefully, movements cautious and measured until he had the thing fully upended. Even he could tell when some of the pressure of that magic eased off, just as the Cat had said it would, like feeling a thunderhead roll by in the distance instead of rolling directly overhead.
It was an odd sensation, but not particularly uncomfortable, even in the more fully tangible state he was currently in. Returning to the Cat's side, he asked, "I'm afraid most of my first aid experience is out of date, but I sincerely doubt that bandaging techniques have changed that much." It was an offer to help, if needed, as he wasn't entirely sure what the Cat's healing situation was.
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When he opens his eyes, Edwin is back at his side again, still looking warm and vibrant in the relative dark of the cave, but less like something the Cat would have a hard time resisting sinking his claws into. Now, at least, he'd be clear-headed enough to ask, if he was feeling particularly emotionally masochistic.
At Edwin's offer to help, the Cat's expression falls into a strange look of surprise, almost like he assumes Edwin is joking before he remembers who he's talking to, and a smile starts to form instead.
"Why, Edwin. Who knew you had such a bedside manner? You know I can't resist the opportunity to let you play nurse." He says, using some of his magic, a little weary though it is, to summon a short roll of bandage which he hands out to the ghost. "Oh, one sec-" Before he stretches out his arm, he uses that slightly longer than typical tongue of his to catch the streak where blood had dripped off his elbow, and laps up over the wound while he's at it. Cats don't have healing powers as a rule, but a Cat King's magic can be applied in a myriad of ways, particularly when licking one's own wounds; the gash doesn't seal, but it does start to knit, and the bleeding stops immediately.
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Just as surprising as the Cat actually taking him up on the offer, and providing the proper supplies. He'd been folding the end of the roll into a pad for the wound itself when he was distracted by the Cat's method of cleaning himself up. Edwin shook himself from the confusion easily enough, pressing that thrice-folded end of the bandage to the slowly-healing cut, wrapping it tidily, first from elbow outward at one angle, and then back at the opposite, leaving a tidy row of overlapping chevrons, like fish scales, before tying off the end, "There, now there's no chance of leaving accidental stains before you've fully healed."
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"Mm, good to hear. I like this shirt." He says with a vauge little smile once Edwin releases his arm and he can stand alone and intact once more. "It feels dumb to say I'm impressed with your tidy work, since everything you do is frustratingly precise, but this is something else." He flexes his arm, impressed by the fact he can still move without any of his circulation being sacrificed, and smiles a little more sharply. "They really don't teach the important shit in school any more, huh? If you were anyone else, I'd have had to drip all the way back to the beach."
He looks over Edwin's shoulder, at the mouth of the interior cave that leads back to the main chamber and out toward sunlight.
"And speaking of the beach — we shouldn't hang out in here too long. I try to limit exposure where I can. Makes me feel all..." He shrugs his shoulders, halfway between a twitch and a shudder. "Static-y."
And then, a thought strikes him, and his tone isn't exactly empathetic, but it does sound a little warmer when he speaks: "You said this shit will linger with you, though, right? Are you good with the happy residents of Port Townsend seeing a bow tie outside a wedding for the first time in like eighty years?"
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The question, however, got a soft smile, a genuine warmth in his tone as he replied, "You're the one with social capital to lose here, or to gain, I suppose." His head tilted, brows both lifting once more even as he caught gently at the Cat's elbow, careful not to apply too much pressure where there was a still-healing injury, "Is it going to tarnish your reputation to be seen with me, even if it is only for a half hour or so?"
The question was genuine, because Edwin, of all people, knew just how tenuous one's social standing could be, and how easily it could be tipped, for better or for worse, and he didn't want to be the cause of the Cat's losing esteem.