West Park Building - Mid Afternoon - Light Snow
Lunaria Nishant
Demons were assholes.
Luna always knew this, but this was being a bit much, flaunting their authority just because they could. These people were seeking shelter from the elements of Tartarus City, and to be chased from it simply because a demon didn't like the sight of seeing dirty humans from a building they were going to build was just...
“Fucking stupid pieces of shit." She hadn't meant to say it out loud, but Luna was furious. She didn't blame the Baileys. She couldn't because it was their building and they were, perhaps, one of the few good people she knew. They let their buildings be used as temporary shelters for those who had none, but they were being threatened. Demons would block every opportunity to make sales which would, inevitably, cause the Baileys to lose their only source of income. Their livelihoods were at stake, and they were making the most logical decision.
If it were Luna, she wouldn't have cared, however; she'd lived on the streets before. She knew how hard it was, and she was a kid being raised by her older sister. They were young and more resilient. The Baileys were not, and they wouldn't last a month on the streets. Sighing softly, she glanced up at the building currently being occupied by a handful of people. She could feel a soft squeeze on her heart as she tried to steel herself.
“I wish Mick was here. This wouldn't be so hard if he was," she murmured to herself. It wasn't because she was afraid of the people here, but moreso because she knew she wouldn't have the resolve to tell these people they no longer had a sheltered place. That they were no longer welcome because of some asshole demon. Mick just had a way about him that seemed to make her feel better, but she wasn't even sure if that was the reason she wanted him with her for this.
“You can do this, Luna. You... have to," and with that, she made her way towards the front door of the building. She rested a hand on the handle and hovered for a moment before opening the door. Once she was inside, she glanced around to see if she could find at least one person.
“Hello?" she called out, hoping someone would answer.
As it had been before, the space was largely taken up by an array of ramshackle housing, rather ingeniously or in some cases just luckily assembled from the likes of chicken wire, newspaper, blankets, tarp, and in at least one case a section of chain-link fence.
At this time of day, it was hardly surprising that most were unoccupied, their residents likely out searching for food or other supplies. A few lingered though, and a familiar soft pink color caught Luna's eye. It would seem the woman who had been here last time she'd come had finished her knitting, and was now wearing the hat she'd fashioned from it, wisps of grey and brown hair poking out from beneath it. She blinked at Luna, eyes pulled up from where she'd been focused on what seemed to be newspaper want ads.
“Oh, it's Mick's girl." She frowned at her own phrasing and shook her head. “Or the girl that was with Mick, I mean. Lu-nar—Luna?"
“It's Luna," she replied. Luna tried her best to smile, but found that it faltered. How could she smile at a woman who was about to lose whatever semblance of a shelter she had? It was too cruel, Luna thought. She opened her mouth to say something, but found that no words would come out.
What could she say?
There might be another shelter they could go to, but with the demons cracking down on abandoned buildings, a majority of these people weren't going to be able to find anything. Those who couldn't find shelter would die, and winter was too harsh for them to survive without one. Luna swallowed past a lump that grew in her throat as she tried to keep her composure.
It wasn't fair to these people. They weren't hurting anyone; they weren't disturbing anyone. They were simply trying to live, just as she and Sol once had to.
“I'm sorry," she stated softly, glancing towards the floor. “The city is ordering the Baileys to clear the building," she finally stated, trying to glance up at Margie, but found she could not look the woman in her eyes. “Everyone needs to be out by tomorrow morning."
Margie was quiet for a long moment, then she folded the newspaper over with a rustle, splitting it again along the dividing line and then folding one more time, creasing it sharply as if it were a much more precious thing than it was. “I see," she said after a moment, sighing long and hard. “Well, thanks for the notice. I'll make sure everyone hears. Can't promise they'll all leave. Some of them are stubborn bastards."
For a moment she chewed her lip. “Can you find Mick, Luna? He might be able to help get everyone out in time. I don't want to leave 'em to the demons, not even Shotgun Pete."
“If he's around, I'll see if I can." She wasn't sure if Mick would be here. He roamed a lot and she didn't have a way to contact him. Sometimes she would see him at the shelter she volunteered at, but he was always the one who seemed to find her.
Maybe it's because she sought him out more and more, knowing that he was a friend she could lean on. “Do you happen to know if he's at least on the property? Or around?" If he was, then maybe she could find him.
“I think he's probably at the park," Margie replied, hauling herself to her feet with what seemed to be great effort. She leaned heavily on a wooden stick that had been shaped into a rough cane, and though it looked like it should break under the pressure, it held firm and steady. “He's usually there if he doesn't tell anyone where he's off to. Bit of a tip, I guess."
She managed a weary smile, then turned to begin waking those that were around but sleeping.
Luna muttered a weak, “thank you," before heading towards the park. It wasn't too far from the building, but that didn't stop the painful clench her heart felt when she'd watched Margie walk away. The woman probably suffered from arthritis and shouldn't be moving so much. Luna wasn't a doctor, she didn't know for sure, but if she was using a makeshift cane to walk with...
She pushed the thought from her mind and half attempted to rub at her eyes. She could feel the stinging sensation behind them. This... they shouldn't have to leave, especially if there were some in the building who couldn't. It wasn't fair to them, to anyone who couldn't afford to have a place to rest, or even call home. They should be taken care of. There should be more shelters in place to help them, to help anyone who so much as asked for it.
When Luna approached the park, she took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. She could do this. She could find Mick and she could tell him the situation, even if her heart felt like it was shattering to pieces.
Mick was, in fact, in the same place she'd last found him, humming softly in a bass tone, melodic and resonant. The reason for this seemed to be the mother cat and kittens. It's been a while, and already the young ones were moving around, most of them attempting to climb the big man with tiny claws dug into his trousers and sleeves. One of them had made it as far as his bicep, but was struggling, so he lifted his arm out to make the route more horizontal, catching another in his free hand as it fell from his knee. The mother cat was seated comfortably in his lap, rolled onto her side so he could glide his hand along the length of her, which she seemed to enjoy.
He was wearing the grey scarf along with his fingerless gloves and a thick, olive-green cable-knit sweater, a bit frayed at the edges, russet-orange shirttails sticking out underneath and dark khaki pants with his heavy boots.
She could feel the smile forming on her face, but had to surpress it when her bottom lip quivered. You can do this, Luna. Just go up and tell him the situation, she tried to steel herself once more, but found she couldn't. She didn't draw closer, and instead, took a deep, steadying breath. She didn't need to show him that she was on the verge of heartbreak for something that was out of her control.
“Mick," she stated loud enough so that Mick could hear her over his humming, but soft enough so that she wouldn't startle the cats. Still, her voice did not sound like her own. It was much too heavy to be light in this situation. “I need your help."
He turned towards her, and the humming halted immediately. Something of her state must have shown on her face, because almost immediately his brow furrowed and his mouth dropped into a frown. "What's the matter?" he asked, looking unsure as to whether he should stand, and then shifting his eyes past her as if to scan the area before finally patting the spot on the bench next to him.
"Is it something you can sit and talk about first, or do you need me to do something right now?"
Her legs would not heed her command to move, and for a moment, she just stood there, glancing down to the floor beneath her. It was a simple question, and the answer was just as simple, but why did it feel like there was lead in her mouth that felt so heavy? She answered the only way she could, nodding slightly as her legs finally moved forward. She took the spot next to him and folded her hands in front of her. She did not glance up at him, though.
“It's the West Park building," she finally stated after another moment of silence. “The one that the Baileys own. They... the people..." she swallowed past the lump in her throat, and squeezed her hands together.
“They're being forced to leave. They have to be out by tomorrow morning, or the demons under Baphomet are going to come and wipe them out." Baphomet was a demon who had a certain kind of interest in the West Park area. Apparently they had told the Baileys that they had seen potential in the area, and that the building the Baileys owned needed to either be demolished, or cleared out of unwelcomed inhabitants. They didn't want such a sight in their new neighborhood.
Mick sighed, long and heavy, and nodded a little. "It was bound to happen eventually," he said quietly. His tone suggested no forgiveness for those responsible, but a simple acceptance of the inevitable. In that, it much resembled Margie's.
He looked down towards her profile, though, idly running his fingers along the mother cat's flank while the intrepid kitten finally reached his shoulder and nuzzled its head into his cheek. "You know this isn't your fault, right?"
She knew.
She knew it wasn't her fault, but it didn't stop the painful stab of guilt that kept hitting her. What could she do against a legion of demons inclined on making life miserable for people, especially towards the people who already had nothing?
“I'm aware," she stated, loosening the grip on her hands. She'd held them too tightly that her knuckles had turned white. “It... it's just that there's nothing that can be done to stop it. Not even to just give them at least an extra day or two. How do they expect everyone to get out within a day? Some of them probably can't even move all too well, and there are probably others who just won't make it without that building acting as a shelter, and I..." she took in a sharp breath and shook her head.
“I can't do anything about it. I can't help them; I can't offer them shelter or a warm bed, nor anything else that might ease their burdens and sufferings. It's almost as if the demons want there to be people left," and honestly, they probably did. There weren't many laws that protected humans againt demons, and there were just as few laws to protect those considered homeless. If a demon wanted a human gone, or dead, it was perfectly within their rights to do so.
The man next to her reached over, setting a kitten in her lap and a hand on her head. "It sucks," he agreed, petting her hair in a way not entirely unlike he'd been petting the cat.
The kitten sniffed at her, its grey striped tail held straight in the air. It must have decided she was all right, because it butted her hand with its head after that.
"And you're not entirely wrong about the consequences," Mick continued. "But, I won't let any of them still be there tomorrow, at least. Don't worry about that much. We'll find somewhere else. We usually do, eventually."
It was probably meant to be comforting, but Luna couldn't find any comfort behind it. It was a shitty feeling, but at least there wouldn't be any people left for the demons, tomorrow. She might not have known these people on a personal level, but she understood their hardship. She wished, with all her being, that there was something she could do. There wasn't, though, and it was a hard truth to swallow. She placed her hand gently on the kitten's head, stroking it softly as she felt the fur between her fingers.
“I might not be able to do much for them, but," she paused, taking her eyes off the kitten to glance at Mick. “The offer still stands for you. Sol said it was fine so long as you don't cause trouble of any sort." It wasn't entirely what Soleil had said, but it was close enough. Luna suspected that Soleil wasn't comfortable with the idea to have someone stay a night with them. She had managed to convince Soleil that it wouldn't be a permanent lodge, though, and it would only be temporary. Mick was good at doing things which meant he could probably help her around the garage if need be.
As if sensing that his attempts at help weren't achieving anything, Mick lifted his hand away, returning his attention to the cats instead. Another had clambered up into his lap, and he rubbed at its belly with a large fingertip, drawing out a mew of protestation, which made him chuckle a bit under his breath.
"I appreciate it, Luna, but I can do for myself. Besides, I've got a new place in mind, and people are going to need me to get into it. I know I'm probably asking too much, but try not to let this hang over your head. It was a good thing we had this place for as long as we did, but everyone in there knows no shelter is permanent. We'll get by."
“Alright," she mumbled softly. She could try not to let this get her down. He was right, no shelter is permanent, and anything that seems too good to be true, is. The reality of it all hit her like a lead pipe, but she wouldn't let it get to her. She needed to be more optimistic, to try and see a better alternative.
“Thanks, Mick. I'm not the one who should be comforted, but I appreciate it nonetheless. You were right about one thing, though," she stated, feeling a small smile on her face. “You're very useful in a pinch. I mean... well, not useful, but helpful is the better term for it."
He snorted softly. "Don't feel like I've done much of anything," he replied, picking up the cats in his arms to return to their box. It seemed to have been upgraded, to scrap wood held together with a few rusty but serviceable nails, the inside lined with scraps of newspaper, fabric, and his old scarf. Once the ones on him were all settled, he held a hand out for the one on her lap.
She took his offered hand and huffed lightly. “Of course you wouldn't see it that way, but you've done a lot. I'm not saying you haven't done anything for anyone else, but you've been, hm," she paused as she tried to think of the word she wanted to say. He'd been helpful to her in a way she couldn't describe. Sure, he might have been a little curt with her when they first met, but the person she knew now was someone she relied on.
It was strange, in a way, relying on someone who wasn't Soleil. She wasn't even sure if that was what she actually felt, but it would have to do for now. “You always seem to be there when I need you the most, I suppose. Like today."
Mick shook his head, a bit ruefully. "You're giving me a bit too much credit for liking kittens," he observed, "but I suppose I won't argue with you. You're much more stubborn than I am, so I'd lose anyway. Also, uh... I was reaching for the cat, not that I mind helping you stand or anything."
You're a fucking idiot, Luna, was the only thought that crossed her mind as she let out a sheepish ha. “I knew that," she stated, trying to regain any dignity she might have and fighting down the heat that covered her face.
Of course he was reaching for the cat and not your hand. Now you just look like an idiot who is mean to cats and kittens alike.
“I'm just going to go find a hole and bury myself in it."
He chuckled, warm and rich, and shook his head, gently letting go of her hand to scoop the kitten up and returning him to the box with his mother and siblings. When he was done, though, he stood and offered the hand back down to her, gently pulling her to her feet. "Well, that's entirely your decision to make," he said, still wearing a half-smile, "but if it were up to me I'd rather you didn't. Things aren't always so nice up here, but I reckon they're still probably better than they'd be six feet under."
“You don't know, maybe I'd like just laying in the ground, buried in my shame and trying to forget it," she murmured, pursing her lips softly. She was such an idiot, really. “But since you put it so nicely, I guess I shouldn't. I'll just suffer the embarrassment and shame," she added, smiling just a bit in Mick's direction.
He smiles a little wider, and shakes his head. "It's all right, you know. It's a gesture that usually means something, and you thought it meant the normal thing. Not that embarrassing, I promise."
“That's easy for you to say," she stated with a soft huff. “You know, it should be a crime to look that handsome with a smile," she stated, realizing belatedly what she said. “I mean, seriously. It should be a crime to smile like that and look like that, and now I'm just shoving my foot in my mouth."
“Anyway, thanks, Mick." She wasn't going to be able to look him in the eye for a good while, but that was fine. At least... she didn't feel as bad as she did earlier. It wasn't going to be easy, but... she could at least try and trust that he would be able to find a place for everyone.
Since she wasn't looking at him, she couldn't see the expression on his face, but she could hear him clear his throat. "Uh... thanks? Nice thing to say to an old timer like me." His large hand ruffled her hair gently.
"So uh... if you wanted to help, chances are some of the older folks are going to need help packing their stuff. I'm sure they'd appreciate a bit of help if you felt up to giving it. Depending on how much time you have, you might be able to see the new one. If... you were wanting to know where to find me in the future."
“It would be nice to be able to find you," she stated. “It'd be nicer if it was easier, but this will do." She wasn't sure why her heart fluttered or why there was an onslaught of butterflies in her stomach, but she wasn't going to say no to helping out or knowing where to find him in the future.
“Lead the way."
Luna always knew this, but this was being a bit much, flaunting their authority just because they could. These people were seeking shelter from the elements of Tartarus City, and to be chased from it simply because a demon didn't like the sight of seeing dirty humans from a building they were going to build was just...
“Fucking stupid pieces of shit." She hadn't meant to say it out loud, but Luna was furious. She didn't blame the Baileys. She couldn't because it was their building and they were, perhaps, one of the few good people she knew. They let their buildings be used as temporary shelters for those who had none, but they were being threatened. Demons would block every opportunity to make sales which would, inevitably, cause the Baileys to lose their only source of income. Their livelihoods were at stake, and they were making the most logical decision.
If it were Luna, she wouldn't have cared, however; she'd lived on the streets before. She knew how hard it was, and she was a kid being raised by her older sister. They were young and more resilient. The Baileys were not, and they wouldn't last a month on the streets. Sighing softly, she glanced up at the building currently being occupied by a handful of people. She could feel a soft squeeze on her heart as she tried to steel herself.
“I wish Mick was here. This wouldn't be so hard if he was," she murmured to herself. It wasn't because she was afraid of the people here, but moreso because she knew she wouldn't have the resolve to tell these people they no longer had a sheltered place. That they were no longer welcome because of some asshole demon. Mick just had a way about him that seemed to make her feel better, but she wasn't even sure if that was the reason she wanted him with her for this.
“You can do this, Luna. You... have to," and with that, she made her way towards the front door of the building. She rested a hand on the handle and hovered for a moment before opening the door. Once she was inside, she glanced around to see if she could find at least one person.
“Hello?" she called out, hoping someone would answer.
As it had been before, the space was largely taken up by an array of ramshackle housing, rather ingeniously or in some cases just luckily assembled from the likes of chicken wire, newspaper, blankets, tarp, and in at least one case a section of chain-link fence.
At this time of day, it was hardly surprising that most were unoccupied, their residents likely out searching for food or other supplies. A few lingered though, and a familiar soft pink color caught Luna's eye. It would seem the woman who had been here last time she'd come had finished her knitting, and was now wearing the hat she'd fashioned from it, wisps of grey and brown hair poking out from beneath it. She blinked at Luna, eyes pulled up from where she'd been focused on what seemed to be newspaper want ads.
“Oh, it's Mick's girl." She frowned at her own phrasing and shook her head. “Or the girl that was with Mick, I mean. Lu-nar—Luna?"
“It's Luna," she replied. Luna tried her best to smile, but found that it faltered. How could she smile at a woman who was about to lose whatever semblance of a shelter she had? It was too cruel, Luna thought. She opened her mouth to say something, but found that no words would come out.
What could she say?
There might be another shelter they could go to, but with the demons cracking down on abandoned buildings, a majority of these people weren't going to be able to find anything. Those who couldn't find shelter would die, and winter was too harsh for them to survive without one. Luna swallowed past a lump that grew in her throat as she tried to keep her composure.
It wasn't fair to these people. They weren't hurting anyone; they weren't disturbing anyone. They were simply trying to live, just as she and Sol once had to.
“I'm sorry," she stated softly, glancing towards the floor. “The city is ordering the Baileys to clear the building," she finally stated, trying to glance up at Margie, but found she could not look the woman in her eyes. “Everyone needs to be out by tomorrow morning."
Margie was quiet for a long moment, then she folded the newspaper over with a rustle, splitting it again along the dividing line and then folding one more time, creasing it sharply as if it were a much more precious thing than it was. “I see," she said after a moment, sighing long and hard. “Well, thanks for the notice. I'll make sure everyone hears. Can't promise they'll all leave. Some of them are stubborn bastards."
For a moment she chewed her lip. “Can you find Mick, Luna? He might be able to help get everyone out in time. I don't want to leave 'em to the demons, not even Shotgun Pete."
“If he's around, I'll see if I can." She wasn't sure if Mick would be here. He roamed a lot and she didn't have a way to contact him. Sometimes she would see him at the shelter she volunteered at, but he was always the one who seemed to find her.
Maybe it's because she sought him out more and more, knowing that he was a friend she could lean on. “Do you happen to know if he's at least on the property? Or around?" If he was, then maybe she could find him.
“I think he's probably at the park," Margie replied, hauling herself to her feet with what seemed to be great effort. She leaned heavily on a wooden stick that had been shaped into a rough cane, and though it looked like it should break under the pressure, it held firm and steady. “He's usually there if he doesn't tell anyone where he's off to. Bit of a tip, I guess."
She managed a weary smile, then turned to begin waking those that were around but sleeping.
Luna muttered a weak, “thank you," before heading towards the park. It wasn't too far from the building, but that didn't stop the painful clench her heart felt when she'd watched Margie walk away. The woman probably suffered from arthritis and shouldn't be moving so much. Luna wasn't a doctor, she didn't know for sure, but if she was using a makeshift cane to walk with...
She pushed the thought from her mind and half attempted to rub at her eyes. She could feel the stinging sensation behind them. This... they shouldn't have to leave, especially if there were some in the building who couldn't. It wasn't fair to them, to anyone who couldn't afford to have a place to rest, or even call home. They should be taken care of. There should be more shelters in place to help them, to help anyone who so much as asked for it.
When Luna approached the park, she took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. She could do this. She could find Mick and she could tell him the situation, even if her heart felt like it was shattering to pieces.
Mick was, in fact, in the same place she'd last found him, humming softly in a bass tone, melodic and resonant. The reason for this seemed to be the mother cat and kittens. It's been a while, and already the young ones were moving around, most of them attempting to climb the big man with tiny claws dug into his trousers and sleeves. One of them had made it as far as his bicep, but was struggling, so he lifted his arm out to make the route more horizontal, catching another in his free hand as it fell from his knee. The mother cat was seated comfortably in his lap, rolled onto her side so he could glide his hand along the length of her, which she seemed to enjoy.
He was wearing the grey scarf along with his fingerless gloves and a thick, olive-green cable-knit sweater, a bit frayed at the edges, russet-orange shirttails sticking out underneath and dark khaki pants with his heavy boots.
She could feel the smile forming on her face, but had to surpress it when her bottom lip quivered. You can do this, Luna. Just go up and tell him the situation, she tried to steel herself once more, but found she couldn't. She didn't draw closer, and instead, took a deep, steadying breath. She didn't need to show him that she was on the verge of heartbreak for something that was out of her control.
“Mick," she stated loud enough so that Mick could hear her over his humming, but soft enough so that she wouldn't startle the cats. Still, her voice did not sound like her own. It was much too heavy to be light in this situation. “I need your help."
He turned towards her, and the humming halted immediately. Something of her state must have shown on her face, because almost immediately his brow furrowed and his mouth dropped into a frown. "What's the matter?" he asked, looking unsure as to whether he should stand, and then shifting his eyes past her as if to scan the area before finally patting the spot on the bench next to him.
"Is it something you can sit and talk about first, or do you need me to do something right now?"
Her legs would not heed her command to move, and for a moment, she just stood there, glancing down to the floor beneath her. It was a simple question, and the answer was just as simple, but why did it feel like there was lead in her mouth that felt so heavy? She answered the only way she could, nodding slightly as her legs finally moved forward. She took the spot next to him and folded her hands in front of her. She did not glance up at him, though.
“It's the West Park building," she finally stated after another moment of silence. “The one that the Baileys own. They... the people..." she swallowed past the lump in her throat, and squeezed her hands together.
“They're being forced to leave. They have to be out by tomorrow morning, or the demons under Baphomet are going to come and wipe them out." Baphomet was a demon who had a certain kind of interest in the West Park area. Apparently they had told the Baileys that they had seen potential in the area, and that the building the Baileys owned needed to either be demolished, or cleared out of unwelcomed inhabitants. They didn't want such a sight in their new neighborhood.
Mick sighed, long and heavy, and nodded a little. "It was bound to happen eventually," he said quietly. His tone suggested no forgiveness for those responsible, but a simple acceptance of the inevitable. In that, it much resembled Margie's.
He looked down towards her profile, though, idly running his fingers along the mother cat's flank while the intrepid kitten finally reached his shoulder and nuzzled its head into his cheek. "You know this isn't your fault, right?"
She knew.
She knew it wasn't her fault, but it didn't stop the painful stab of guilt that kept hitting her. What could she do against a legion of demons inclined on making life miserable for people, especially towards the people who already had nothing?
“I'm aware," she stated, loosening the grip on her hands. She'd held them too tightly that her knuckles had turned white. “It... it's just that there's nothing that can be done to stop it. Not even to just give them at least an extra day or two. How do they expect everyone to get out within a day? Some of them probably can't even move all too well, and there are probably others who just won't make it without that building acting as a shelter, and I..." she took in a sharp breath and shook her head.
“I can't do anything about it. I can't help them; I can't offer them shelter or a warm bed, nor anything else that might ease their burdens and sufferings. It's almost as if the demons want there to be people left," and honestly, they probably did. There weren't many laws that protected humans againt demons, and there were just as few laws to protect those considered homeless. If a demon wanted a human gone, or dead, it was perfectly within their rights to do so.
The man next to her reached over, setting a kitten in her lap and a hand on her head. "It sucks," he agreed, petting her hair in a way not entirely unlike he'd been petting the cat.
The kitten sniffed at her, its grey striped tail held straight in the air. It must have decided she was all right, because it butted her hand with its head after that.
"And you're not entirely wrong about the consequences," Mick continued. "But, I won't let any of them still be there tomorrow, at least. Don't worry about that much. We'll find somewhere else. We usually do, eventually."
It was probably meant to be comforting, but Luna couldn't find any comfort behind it. It was a shitty feeling, but at least there wouldn't be any people left for the demons, tomorrow. She might not have known these people on a personal level, but she understood their hardship. She wished, with all her being, that there was something she could do. There wasn't, though, and it was a hard truth to swallow. She placed her hand gently on the kitten's head, stroking it softly as she felt the fur between her fingers.
“I might not be able to do much for them, but," she paused, taking her eyes off the kitten to glance at Mick. “The offer still stands for you. Sol said it was fine so long as you don't cause trouble of any sort." It wasn't entirely what Soleil had said, but it was close enough. Luna suspected that Soleil wasn't comfortable with the idea to have someone stay a night with them. She had managed to convince Soleil that it wouldn't be a permanent lodge, though, and it would only be temporary. Mick was good at doing things which meant he could probably help her around the garage if need be.
As if sensing that his attempts at help weren't achieving anything, Mick lifted his hand away, returning his attention to the cats instead. Another had clambered up into his lap, and he rubbed at its belly with a large fingertip, drawing out a mew of protestation, which made him chuckle a bit under his breath.
"I appreciate it, Luna, but I can do for myself. Besides, I've got a new place in mind, and people are going to need me to get into it. I know I'm probably asking too much, but try not to let this hang over your head. It was a good thing we had this place for as long as we did, but everyone in there knows no shelter is permanent. We'll get by."
“Alright," she mumbled softly. She could try not to let this get her down. He was right, no shelter is permanent, and anything that seems too good to be true, is. The reality of it all hit her like a lead pipe, but she wouldn't let it get to her. She needed to be more optimistic, to try and see a better alternative.
“Thanks, Mick. I'm not the one who should be comforted, but I appreciate it nonetheless. You were right about one thing, though," she stated, feeling a small smile on her face. “You're very useful in a pinch. I mean... well, not useful, but helpful is the better term for it."
He snorted softly. "Don't feel like I've done much of anything," he replied, picking up the cats in his arms to return to their box. It seemed to have been upgraded, to scrap wood held together with a few rusty but serviceable nails, the inside lined with scraps of newspaper, fabric, and his old scarf. Once the ones on him were all settled, he held a hand out for the one on her lap.
She took his offered hand and huffed lightly. “Of course you wouldn't see it that way, but you've done a lot. I'm not saying you haven't done anything for anyone else, but you've been, hm," she paused as she tried to think of the word she wanted to say. He'd been helpful to her in a way she couldn't describe. Sure, he might have been a little curt with her when they first met, but the person she knew now was someone she relied on.
It was strange, in a way, relying on someone who wasn't Soleil. She wasn't even sure if that was what she actually felt, but it would have to do for now. “You always seem to be there when I need you the most, I suppose. Like today."
Mick shook his head, a bit ruefully. "You're giving me a bit too much credit for liking kittens," he observed, "but I suppose I won't argue with you. You're much more stubborn than I am, so I'd lose anyway. Also, uh... I was reaching for the cat, not that I mind helping you stand or anything."
You're a fucking idiot, Luna, was the only thought that crossed her mind as she let out a sheepish ha. “I knew that," she stated, trying to regain any dignity she might have and fighting down the heat that covered her face.
Of course he was reaching for the cat and not your hand. Now you just look like an idiot who is mean to cats and kittens alike.
“I'm just going to go find a hole and bury myself in it."
He chuckled, warm and rich, and shook his head, gently letting go of her hand to scoop the kitten up and returning him to the box with his mother and siblings. When he was done, though, he stood and offered the hand back down to her, gently pulling her to her feet. "Well, that's entirely your decision to make," he said, still wearing a half-smile, "but if it were up to me I'd rather you didn't. Things aren't always so nice up here, but I reckon they're still probably better than they'd be six feet under."
“You don't know, maybe I'd like just laying in the ground, buried in my shame and trying to forget it," she murmured, pursing her lips softly. She was such an idiot, really. “But since you put it so nicely, I guess I shouldn't. I'll just suffer the embarrassment and shame," she added, smiling just a bit in Mick's direction.
He smiles a little wider, and shakes his head. "It's all right, you know. It's a gesture that usually means something, and you thought it meant the normal thing. Not that embarrassing, I promise."
“That's easy for you to say," she stated with a soft huff. “You know, it should be a crime to look that handsome with a smile," she stated, realizing belatedly what she said. “I mean, seriously. It should be a crime to smile like that and look like that, and now I'm just shoving my foot in my mouth."
“Anyway, thanks, Mick." She wasn't going to be able to look him in the eye for a good while, but that was fine. At least... she didn't feel as bad as she did earlier. It wasn't going to be easy, but... she could at least try and trust that he would be able to find a place for everyone.
Since she wasn't looking at him, she couldn't see the expression on his face, but she could hear him clear his throat. "Uh... thanks? Nice thing to say to an old timer like me." His large hand ruffled her hair gently.
"So uh... if you wanted to help, chances are some of the older folks are going to need help packing their stuff. I'm sure they'd appreciate a bit of help if you felt up to giving it. Depending on how much time you have, you might be able to see the new one. If... you were wanting to know where to find me in the future."
“It would be nice to be able to find you," she stated. “It'd be nicer if it was easier, but this will do." She wasn't sure why her heart fluttered or why there was an onslaught of butterflies in her stomach, but she wasn't going to say no to helping out or knowing where to find him in the future.
“Lead the way."