Crossroads RP

"And yet... are our conditions any better for it?"

"She is," Nox agreed. "She did her best to help all of us."

"Kaaaarrrrrrrrrr."

Poke. Poke. Pokepokepoke.

"Goway."

"Mistress Coquette was kind and gentle."

"Maybe they were a slave themselves? Or perhaps they've saved many other slaves before?" Nox hazarded. "Or maybe they're just... kind and gentle. Caring."

Truth be told, Dil had almost not thought to go back and check on Charon; he'd gotten used to his routine, his new Nyra routine, and going back to the dorm to poke at his friend wasn't a part of it. It had only been an off-hand comment-- a complaint really-- from Joy about hoping that Charon can find a new job soon, one that doesn't leave him reeking, that diverted habit. Foot-claws tapping gently on the floor, Dil squinted at the bundle of blanket and catboy on the bed for a moment. 

"Psst."

"Psst. Kar. Psst, Kar."

Charon didn't eat dinner last night. That's not entirely weird -- he came home exhausted and stinking of sex, and after a steam bath he was too tired to eat. 

But when he doesn't rise from his bed for breakfast the next morning, now that's weird. And frightening. He's pulled the covers over his head and the pillow for good measure, trying to become as small and unobtrusive as possible. 

"What would a hero know of being enslaved?" 

"Well, you don't have their help yet," Nox pointed out gamefully.