feral kou AUs for shutsdown

[miraculess]

AND AGAIN :')

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[miraculess]

[ stares at him for several moments

then knocks the books over and tries to bolt ]

[shutsdown]

[Just gonna quietly neaten the stack of books

Also good luck getting out]

[miraculess]

[ that possibility is in fact the reason she didn't try to nope out the instant the chains were taken off.

on the other hand she can probably blame body-checking the door with her full weight on the fact she can barely see straight, if it doesn't work and she feels the need to try to recover what tiny scraps of dignity she's still got left. ]

[shutsdown]

[Yeah no he's got a barrier up. Good luck with that, he'll just wait here with his tea and books.]

[miraculess]

[ sometimes she really hates being right

after the loud crash of her trying to take down the door she gets pretty quiet— someone with human ears might think she'd knocked herself out on in the attempt, but he can make out the muted sounds of her trying to pad as far away from him as she can get, breath held and gears disengaged. ]

[shutsdown]

[He's mostly just listening for now, equal parts curious and patient.]

[miraculess]

[ Kou's patience vs Lilith's stubbornness: BEGIN

she's just going to wedge herself into the first reasonably defensible or hidden corner she can find. with the shape she's in, it's really only a matter of time before she loses her grip on staying conscious; but if she's going to pass out it's going to be somewhere where he'll have to work to look at her the way he has been. ]

[shutsdown]

[He totally lets that happen, idly wondering if he was ever this spiteful about feeling trapped... And deciding yeah probably.

He spells her into a deeper sleep, then, hunts out her hiding place and relocates her to the guest bedroom. If she has any open injuries, she wakes with them neatly stitched, and the lingering effects of her poisoning totally gone.

There's also the stack of books on the bedside table.]

[miraculess]

[ you absolute piece of shit, waking up and not immediately wrecking herself by accident is difficult enough when she is not a: off of the floor, b: in a different place than where she fell asleep, c: in different physical shape than she was when she passed out, and d: in a different position.

that is to say she's falling out of bed, knocking over the bedside table and all the books with it (again), and sitting there in a hyperventilating sprawl of uncoordinated confusion as she tries to figure out what even. ]

[shutsdown]

[Okay but consider it would have been helpful and nice to pretty much anyone else?

He hears the crash from downstairs, politely diverts a curious customer ("oh I locked up a stray dog last night") and closes up shop.

It's not long before there's a knock on the guest room door.]

Are you hurt?

[miraculess]

[ to anyone else who hadn't made it obvious they WANTED NOTHING TO DO WITH HIM

by the time he gets up there she's figured out her limbs well enough to scoot under the bed. it's yet one more thing making her want to claw out of her own skin from shame alone ("locked up a stray dog"— this is low, even for her) but she couldn't breathe out in the open.

with an edge of unhappy, half-hysterical laughter: ]

I'm fine.