1995-01-24: Someone Really Stinks!


Holly_icon.gif Ichabod_icon.gif Jack_icon.gif

Scene Title Someone really stinks!
Synopsis Jack is spending time with Holly in the hospital, and Uncle Ichabod comes to visit.
Location St. Mungo's
Date Jan 24, 1995
Watch For Vampire / Werewolf fun. VASE'D!
Logger Jack

The dreams aren't as bad anymore. They're still hellish, but at least they don't wake her up until after she's gotten some sleep. Even then, she very rarely wakes up terrified, or not knowing where she's at anymore, which is progress. She still doesn't want to leave the hospital, but the people who've been around her have definitely helped alleviate the feelings of helplessness.

She's gone through the denial. Now the anger is competing with the fact that she just wants to curl up and stay in bed for the rest of her life. She's pleaded with the Mungo's staff to find a cure - just to make it easier for her. Less painful, maybe, because she knows it will be excruciating. Then again, after the Cruciatus Curse and the initial attack, she can't see herself suffering quite as much. More denial, maybe.

Today, she's actually left her red-spotted sheets behind, and she's sitting in the window, looking out at the people below, who, for some reason never even think to look up at the wizarding hospital. The building just isn't that interesting to them.

Jack has been attempting to ease back into normal life. He's taken a couple local jobs, done his paperwork, attempted to find his secretary, and visited his family. Several times. However, the bulk of his time is still spent here watching Holly slowly improve, offering reassurance and comfort when he can. He steps into the room this morning and spots the woman standing by the window.

"Alright, then?" He steps toward the window, sliding an arm protectively around her waist. "Feeling a little better?" He glances down at the people below. "Busy little bees."

The arm around her waist doesn't create pain so much as the realization that the feeling of the bite is definitely still there. It's still open, though the bleeding has slowed considerably now. Holly wonders if she'll always feel it. "Not really all right," she says. For a moment, she's tempted to add 'but I will be,' but she's not quite ready to make that call yet. She's still warring with herself over whether or not living is worth it sometimes.

"Things are starting to happen. I can see a little better, I can hear a little better, and I can smell… everything. And maybe that wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have to worry about what's gonna happen to me in a couple weeks."

Several replies come to mind for Jack, but they're all trite, overused, and sound flippant, though in no way does he intend to sound that way. "Mmmm…." He makes a noncommittal sound. "But you seem to be feeling a little better?" Able to get up and move at the very least. He turns his body, arm still around her waist, to look her over. "And you're looking more like yourself."

Physically, yeah, she does feel better, so she nods. The broken bones are healed, though the joints are still just a little stiff. The scrapes and cuts not directly a result of werewolf claws or teeth have healed over completely. "At least I can hide what happened," Holly says quietly. "I just wear long sleeves from now on. Make sure my chest and shoulders are covered if I'm out in public."

She turns back to the window, pressing her hands against it. "You know, the problem is, I shouldn't have to be treated differently. I've known this… forever. But I will be. And maybe these restrictions were necessary when today's resources weren't as available - like in Medieval times. But now…" She trails off. "It doesn't matter. I'm still dangerous. They could use me like they used Remus. Maybe that's why they made me a… You know."

"Maybe." Jack's answer is still rather noncommittal, but he turns back to the window, wanting to see what she sees. "It seems like they're using everyone they possibly can to make it rough for people who think very differently from them." The unspoken thought lingers between them that it's mainly the current 'Acting Minister' and her supporters that are this way. "They tried using me to get to my father. I'm sure of it. I just wouldn't let them. And we can do our best to prevent them from using you…" He pauses, and there's a vehemence in his voice. "…Or Lupin again." He shakes his head slowly. He's been dealing with this mainly by stuffing it deep down inside and taking care of Holly as best he can. Soon, though, he's gonna have to let the frustration and anger out, or it'll take root. Adrenaline can only take you so far.

Holly's still in shock, or she would have lost her temper long ago. She's also maintaining calm in order to ensure she's not labeled as 'dangerous.' She'd like to be able to keep her wand and stay off of werewolf reservations for as long as possible. Her fingernails dig into her palms at the point where Jack says 'very differently from them…' After all, they must know what they can't always be right. "I've never wanted to hurt anyone before. But I'd hurt her. Do you think it's because — " She'll have to say it sometime. "Do you think it's because I'm a werewolf?"

There's a sting in her eyes. She doesn't bother to hold back the tears this time.

"I have bad dreams where I'm just constantly in pain. Or being chased. But then there's a couple where I get a hold of her, and…" Holly swallows, biting her lip. "And I always feel better. After."

"Hell, no, luv." Jack's vehemence returns. "I want to get a hold of her and take her skin off and …" He shudders. "Not just for what she's done to you. She's fired my uncle who's been there at the ministry for as long as he can remember." And for Ichabod Noble, that's a damn long time. Jack's been watching the newspaper, trying to keep up with what's going on. "It's not just because you're a werewolf." He reaches over to rest a hand lightly on her back, needing the touch almost as much as he thinks she does. "It's because she's a bitch." Yes, it's a joke.

Using the heel of her hand, she dries her eyes. It's encouraging to know that the fact that she really does want to see Umbridge suffer for this isn't unique to herself. Holly's always prided herself on being fair. Now, she can't see a reason for it. "Can't help asking why she's doing all this. I mean, what would possess her to think that what she's doing is good? It's like she's forgotten basic human compassion. She'll never accomplish what she wants if she alienates everyone. It's just dumb."

Jack's attempt at a joke doesn't go over Holly's head, but she's not in the mood to appreciate it at the moment. In fact, she's sure she'll never be able to laugh or even smile ever again. How can she? "You know what a realist is? Me. Or I was. I figured that bad always had to balance good, and vice-versa." She just shakes her head now.

Jack just listens, letting her talk, as he has tried to do so often these past days. "I don't think she's thinking about that at all. I heard someone say she is a Slytherin, but if she is, she's definitely slipping. Slytherins tend to think about the consequences of everything. She's not even really doing that. She's got her power, and it's gone to her head." He shrugs, not sure what else to say. "I try not to think like Delores Umbridge." He shudders.

Holly's comment about realism just gets a nod and he sighs. "I've always been more of an optimist. Which might drive you nuts." The constant, 'You can do it' when it may be the hardest thing she's done.

It's actually Jack that's really kept Holly from just completely losing it. She knows she shouldn't allow people close to her anymore, but this is one of those situations where selfishness is winning over. The thought that, despite everything, she might not end up alone - either interpersonally or romantically - is comforting, and she needs that.

"She'll never pay for it enough," Holly says. "Even if I'm ever allowed in court again, I'd still argue for a fair trial for her. Everyone deserves that - guilty or not. If you make those small gestures, everything's so much easier." There's a pause, then, "That doesn't mean I wouldn't tear her apart if I could. It'd just make more trouble than it's worth."

Despite wanting to keep him close, there are things she needs to point out. "Jack. I don't want to talk about this right now, but I think we might have to…"

Jack inhales, and lets the air out slowly. "Let's hear it…" Jack turns and looks toward her, locking his eyes on her own. The comments about the fair trial get a frown and a nod. He's not reacting logically, and any mention of 'fair' and the 'minister' in the same sentence don't bear repeating around him. "Should we sit down for this?" Since he has a feeling he knows what's coming.

Holly's already sitting on the windowsill, but she moves over to make room for Jack. "I don't usually think years and years into the future, you know? I mean, yeah, I thought I'd go to school and get a degree and practice law, but with people, I just kinda lived in the moment. I can't do that anymore."

Looking down, she absently rubs a hand over the bandages on her arm, feeling the sting of an unhealed series of lacerations. "I'm not completely human anymore." The look on her face when she says it suggests that it's the first time she actually said it out loud. There's a long pause. "I'd give anything for someone to take it away. And I'll never stop trying. But Jack, you have to realize, if you want us to be together, you're going to face almost as much disgust and contempt that— that…" She doesn't finish the statement. Her face is already screwing up again for another cry. "People used to look up to me," she says through tears. "I used to have some authority, and now…"

Jack moves to come sit beside her, listening to her words. "I don't know what will happen. And I understand being labeled for who you spend time with. I've been dealing with that since I testified at Sirius' trial. I'd do it again, and I'd do this again…" With the notable exception of getting to that cave several hours earlier. "My … " He looks out across the room as he speaks, trying to frame his thoughts. "My good name is only good if I keep living like I am. Believing in people and protecting them…" He runs a hand through his hair. "I don't care if you don't have authority, but I have a feeling that even if the circles are different, your 'authority' will be similar." There's that crazy optimism again. "Especially if people know how it happened. That it was set up." Because there is no doubt in Jack's mind that it was. He leans over, slipping an arm around her shoulder if she'll let him. "Holly, until we decide otherwise, I am here." For what it's worth.

"I should tell you to leave," Holly says, finally feeling as if she can actually smile. Jack's sentiment is appreciated. The smile is short-lived, however, when she realizes that despite the nice moment now, she's going to have a lot more bad ones. "I won't, though. It's up to you do decide. If you can't live with it…" She sniffles again. "You can leave. I won't blame you. I wish you could be there when it happens, though. That's when I really don't want to be alone."

She'll have to, though. Locked up where she can't kill anyone.

Then Jack brings up something else she's been thinking about for hours and hours… Whether or not revealing herself as a werewolf will really drive the point home against Umbridge. "I don't want to stand in front of people and tell them what I am," she says. "Unless you can tell me you're absolutely certain it'll help give Umbridge the ax."

Jack nods. "Alright. That's your choice." The revelation of her new nature. "I would like to tell my father about it, though, because he needs to know. The whole situation. He's on the Wizengamot and …" Someone hurt someone dear to his son. That'll probably provoke a reaction. "I won't leave, Holly. And …" He frowns. "I wish I could be with you. I wish I could be like Sirius and morph into animal form and stay beside you the whole night." That's not all he wishes, but he reins in those thoughts for the moment. "Transfiguration was my worst subject." He rolls his eyes. "Now, charms or defense, I'm your man. But transfiguration…" He left that to others. "I won't leave you just because of this." He won't promise forever — that's not Jack — but he will promise to stay beside her now. That's what's important.

Yeah. I know, some people should know. And it's public knowledge, anyway. I'm already registered in Britain, even though I'm an American citizen." It's sad. The last thing she wants anyone to know is this. "I haven't even told my family. Maybe I never will." She can just see her sister restricting visits with her niece because she's some sort of unpredictable dog.

"Maybe Sirius can be there," she says. It could be anyone. Sirius, maybe even Lupin, if she can ever bring herself to look at him again. Someone who can help her through the terror she already feels whenever she thinks about her next full moon. "I'll be taking the potion. But it still won't be safe for you. And… I don't know how I'm going to be after, either. I already feel like the slightest little thing is going to tip me over the edge. I know this sounds cliche, but I feel like I'm losing myself."

Jack, anchor. He's good at that. He sighs, and tightens his arm around her. "Yeah. I'm sure Padfoot'd be willing to help you out for a while." He frowns. "I don't know how well it'd go over between you and Moony, but it might help." He wants to do anything that would help in the least little bit. He squeezes her shoulder, and leans his head down, resting his on hers in a comforting gesture. "We'll figure it out." He speaks with the plural on purpose.

"I don't… know if I can actually talk to Remus right now." It's said regretfully, and Holly really shouldn't blame him for what happened, but she can't help it. Eventually, she'll have to see him. They'll have to fix things between them. Right now, though, it can wait.

Holly leans against Jack, but it's awkward, given the pain as well as her own embarrassment. No one should be ashamed of a disease, but she'll make an exception for this one. There's no thank you, or any other verbal acknowledgment of his commitment. Hopefully it'll be enough for her to just show the appreciation.

And truth be told, she's not sure Jack will be able to stick around. She can hope, but she really won't blame him if he runs away.

Jack nods. "He's been my friend for years, and I'm not sure how I'm gonna talk to him. Inside, Jack is furious with the situation. Not with Moony himself, but with the whole damn thing. He's afraid that it'll spill out on to his friends. When Holly leans on him, he gives a small smile, contented to sit for a long moment. However, after a while, Jack stirs, something in him driving him to move a little. "What's your next step? What do you need?" He realizes she's practical, and wants to help as much as possible.

"I know it wasn't his fault. Just… How he reacted before. He's so level all the time, it didn't seem to faze him. Like it was happening, and there was nothing he could do about it. I mean, I was so scared, and…" Lupin's hurting, too. Holly knows that. And she also knows that she, too, was rather level-headed through the whole thing, until he finally got a hold of her and bit her.

"I dunno, Jack. They're gonna discharge me really soon, and after that, I don't know where to go. It hurts to put weight on my left side. People are gonna ask me what's wrong… What do I tell them?"

"Tell them you were attacked by a dark creature and don't really want to talk about it." It's the truth, from a certain point of view. Maybe Jack's been spending too much time with his Slytherin relatives, but it works. "Um…" He looks down, the nervousness returning for a moment. "You could stay with me in my flat? At least for a bit until …" He doesn't mention the moonrise specifically, but the thought of it hangs in the air. "Or we could camp at Grimmauld again…" He knows there's enough space and security for Remus. "I don't know. There are people who'll help. I know this. I'd hesitate to offer before talking to him, but I bet you anything Da'd let you stay if you needed." He seems to be latching on to the things he can fix, or at least offer to fix. "Just let me know, okay?" When she talks more about Lupin, he frowns slightly. "Yeah. He's always so calm. Always has been."

"Yeah, dark creature." People will be able to guess. Someone from the hospital will talk. The Ministry will no doubt spread rumors of their own. "I can't help thinking that everyone who sees me is just gonna know."

Jack's offer is almost ideal, but Holly shakes her head. "It sounds crazy, but I don't know if i should be living with anyone. In case I forget…" She know she won't. "I just … I need to get to my place in Hogsmeade and secure part of the house for me to stay in during full moons. Make it inaccessible. Have the door charmed to stay shut until sunrise the next day. These were all things I suggested in the US, and they work. People are more willing to take their condition into their own hands and…" She pauses, sighs, and sits up again. "People are still going to be afraid of me. If I even scratch someone now by accident? It won't heal. You realize that?" Back to the original topic, though. "I'll probably stay at Sirius' house for awhile. I can probably make a room for myself there, if he'll let me."

Jack just listens, although he's worried about her tone. However, the fact that she's looking forward to living with the condition is a damn sight better than she had been. He cheers internally, even through the constant worry. "Yeah. I remember that part. I'm not too worried." He sighs, shifting his arm a little. "It will work out." It has to.

Holly pages Ginny, Jack, and Sirius: She holds up her hands, so Jack can see her fingernails. They've been cut extremely short. "Now I just have to resist biting anyone, and I'll be all set." Hey, she made a joke there, see? Unfortunately, it isn't accompanied by a smile.

"Jack, no matter what we want, it's not… Not one-hundred percent certain, you know? Remus had it all figured out. He was careful to a fault. And that didn't stop Umbridge from using him as a weapon. All it takes is one accident - one night that I forget to take my potion, one night that I forget there's a full moon and I'm out in public - and that's it. That's the end. There's no grace. And I'm always going to be scrutinized now. And I probably won't live past sixty."

She holds up her hands, so Jack can see her fingernails. They've been cut extremely short. "Now I just have to resist biting anyone, and I'll be all set." Hey, she made a joke there, see? Unfortunately, it isn't accompanied by a smile.

"Jack, no matter what we want, it's not… Not one-hundred percent certain, you know? Remus had it all figured out. He was careful to a fault. And that didn't stop Umbridge from using him as a weapon. All it takes is one accident - one night that I forget to take my potion, one night that I forget there's a full moon and I'm out in public - and that's it. That's the end. There's no grace. And I'm always going to be scrutinized now. And I probably won't live past sixty."
Holly pages Ginny, Jack, and Sirius: Come on. It was better than that!

"I know that, Holly." She's only been saying that for the past several days. Jack has run out of words that won't hurt. So, he keeps silent. He stands up, leaving Holly in the window seat, and starts pacing. It's one way for him to release the stress inside. There aren't many who've seen this side of Icarus Noble, but it's there.

It's been quite a few years since Ichabod's been to Mungo's; the last time he was here, he seems to recall that it had one or two less wings. After stopping in the lobby for a few moments to peer around curiously at the new decor, he makes his way to the room mentioned in the letter he'd received a few days back from his nephew. He's dressed in a somber gray set of robes today with a billowing black cloak over top, and is holding a somewhat abused-looking bouquet under one arm - the latter to help avoid questions from the medical staff. When he finds the room, he knocks once or twice and stands outside in the hall, waiting.

"It's kinda a big thing for me," she says. "I don't know how I'm gonna deal with this. Or even if this world really needs another person like me in it." It's comparable to the worst Muggle diseases in the world. People spread them without meaning to, and here she is, fully able to pass on a curse that no one wants. "And no matter how many times I say it, I can't even begin to think about how I can make this work. I really wish you guys would have gotten there five minutes later. We wouldn't be having this conversation." It's a selfish thing to say. Holly knows, but right now, she can't help it.

The knock on the door draws Holly's attention. The man there looks familiar… She's seen him before. She starts to say something, but then she catches the smell.

To her, it's kind of like sour milk. Acrid. Not pungent, but enough to make her gag, the back of one arm covering her mouth.

Jack is instantly wary, or he'd be scowling and perhaps blowing up at his lady. He's actually grateful for the knock, because it draws his attention away from the sharp, angry retort on his lips. He frowns, and opens the door slightly, wanting to see just who is visiting before he lets them in. When he does see, it's an utter surprise. Uncle Ichabod." The scowl becomes a wry smile. "Hello. I heard about…" Now the smile disappears. "Read about it in the paper." He swings the door wide. "Come in." He notices Holly's reaction. "Is everything okay?"

"Ah! Hullo, Icarus," Ichabod says amiably, his eyes skimming over the (much) younger man as he peeks out from behind the door. "I'm glad to see you're in good health. Don't worry about me, though - I've had far worse things thrown at me than a pink slip. And" He pauses, his nostrils flaring just slightly at the same time that his eyes narrow to slits. "-ah. I don't suppose you're visiting someone who prefers to sleep with a bedful of wet dogs?" The old man chuckles in a way that suggests the question is far from serious.
Holly has partially disconnected.

It's not the worst thing she's ever smelled, but it's certainly the one that's affected her most. And she did mention to Jack that, lately, she can smell everything. This is a hospital, so one would suppose she's had a hint of the scent of death before, but never anything like this. Perhaps this is why werewolves and vampires have an age-long epic battle! Not likely.

Holly coughs again, before covering her nose with her sleeve. There. That's a little better, or it would be, if Ichabod hadn't made the wet dog comment. To keep with the metaphor, Holly looks about as shocked as a kicked puppy.

Jack appears a little taken aback with his uncle's comment, though it was meant in jest. "No, sir." He frowns. They can smell each other? "She was recently … sent to the hospital by your former assistant with specific help from your former boss." He rolls his eyes, and steps over toward Holly again, wrapping his arm protectively around her, both for her sake and as a clear sign to his uncle. "What are you going to do now, Uncle?" The moniker is filled with respect. After all, this guy is pretty old.

Ichabod's brows shoot up at that little nougat of information. Remus attacked this woman — on Umbridge's orders? His lips settle into a grim frown as he thinks this over; after a moment, he steps into the room and closes the door behind him, withdrawing his wand at the same time to cast a quick Muffliato spell over the environs. He doesn't miss Jack's protective attitude, though he hardly looks interested in attacking anyone. Especially someone already hospitalized. "I was not aware that Mr. Lupin's disappearance had anything to do with Umbridge, although I knew he'd been fired. He attacked this young woman at Umbridge's behest?" Holly hasn't been greeted by name yet, although this may have something to do with the fact that she's currently hiding under the blankets. It probably won't help her much that he just closed the door, but better safe than sorry. "As for me…" He grins wryly. "Well, I have a couple hundred years' worth of money saved up. And a retirement fund, if that bloated tick of a woman doesn't find a way to withhold it."

Not quite under blankets, but definitely under her sleeve, which she's not removing from her nose. There's something very different about this guy. Plus, he's so blase about her situation that it's making her fairly angry. It's stress - a smell she's not used to and will, eventually, have to deal with - and something so inhuman that she can't help the reaction. Maybe it's not particularly polite, but she's only been a werewolf for a few days. She's paranoid, in pain, and some guy that smells like death just closed her door. Jack's uncle or not, she's going to have to do something.

So she stands up and picks up the nearest thing - a vase full of flowers - and brandishes it like a club, wide-eyed and fairly frightened. The water dumps out over her shoulder, splashing to the floor and taking the pink and yellow roses with it.

Jack chooses to reply to Ichabod's question. "Well, she didn't give him wolfsbane, and unlocked the cages between them. So, it's near enough as, I think. She didn't sit there beside him and say 'go bite the girl' and he did, but damn near enough for it to count, I think." It'd be like sitting a bleeding patient near Ichabod and leaving him there for days. When Holly stands up and brandishes the vase, the water splooshes over her shoulder and down on Jack's front. "Holly, luv…" He stands up, trying to calm her down. "Put it down, please?"

"You're telling me that Delores Umbridge caged Remus Lupin and this young lady together on the night of a full moon?" Ichabod asks quite bluntly, his voice fraught with something between disbelief and disgust. His opinion of Umbridge has just gone from 'extreme dislike' to 'openly hostile'. He's about to expound upon something else, but at about this point Holly clambers up on to her feet with the vase. A single thin gray brow lifts at the spectacle, and his lips twist into a bemused smirk. "Miss… Maplewood, wasn't it? While I realize my presence is probably not especially pleasant to you, I assure you that I mean you no harm." He flicks his wand again and the bouquet of flowers in his other hand pop into the upturned vase, staying there despite the fact that gravity would have them do otherwise. "There. I brought you flowers."

Holly's not putting the vase down. "Why do you smell like rotten eggs?" she demands, because she has absolutely no reason to connect 'vampire' to the man, despite several previous verbal clues. And she doesn't like how he's smirking at her, or that he accused her of sleeping with wet dogs. Because she doesn't realize that he can smell her, too, and it must - because she's being notably irrational - be the start of people thinking less of her because of what she is. Hence, here we have the classic symptom of trauma - anger.

And confusion, frustration, fear, blah, blah, blah. But mostly, yeah. The anger.

It's like this is one big joke to him. That's her thought just moments before she launches that vase - now full of flowers - at the vampire. Which is a mistake, considering there's deep lacerations into the muscle tissue on her arms and chest, plus, there's the bite itself. Said vase isn't thrown very hard, at least. Her hands go to her side, and she doubles over, arms wrapped around the wound. Ow.

Jack inhales deeply and watches the vase arc through the air. "Holly!" He figures his uncle can defend himself, so he moves to grab the woman. "C'mon. Lay down…" He attempts to guide her to the bed. "Yeah. That's pretty much what she did." And the fire is in Jack's eyes, as well. "Apparently to… 'teach her a lesson.'" His words are harsh, but mainly because that anger is rising in him, too.

"Perhaps you ought to consi—" Ichabod pauses as the vase is actually hefted at him. He hadn't really expected that. Rather than whipping a hand up to catch the thing, he just lets it smash over his head, rolling his eyes a bit as what's left of the water - and quite a few very droopy-looking flowers - tumbles down his front side. "Really, was that necessary?" He sighs and swishes his wand to repair the vase, catching it from mid-air in his free hand before it can drop to the ground and shatter again, and then swishes again to insta-dry-clean his clothing. "Icarus, perhaps I should leave you and Miss Maplewood to talk things over until a better opportunity presents itself." Meaning when the young werewolf has enough self-control to not freak out and lob random objects at him.

"Maybe if you'd… You'd tell me why you smell like — What is that, some sort of repellant or something?" She hisses through her teeth as Jack leads her toward the bed. Certain injuries will probably need scrutiny in order to ensure she hasn't re-damaged them too badly. They're likely on the mend just enough to not hinder her recovery too badly. Hey, she doesn't like this guy! And better to direct all her anger at some man she barely knows than to take it out on Remus or Sirius, or Jack, even. He hasn't really done anything wrong, except… smell bad.

Jack sighs again, and continues to hover near Holly. "Maybe so, Uncle Ichabod. She's rather new at this, and …" He figures nobody (other than Lupin) would understand more than Ichabod. "Do you have any words of advice?" Since the man has endured his own 'change'. "Um, Uncle Ichabod is…" He gestures, unsure whether to be blunt or to let the other man explain his own condition. Curiosity overwhelms him just then, and he asks, "How does he smell?" Bad, apparently.

Ichabod snorts somewhat derisively. "If it's any consolation, my dear, you don't exactly smell like sunshine and roses, yourself." His pale eyes flit to Jack briefly as his nephew begins to explain, but when he pauses instead, the old man clears his throat and finishes for him. "I am a Vampire, Miss Maplewood. Which is the reason for your reaction to me." He takes a step back in the direction of the doorway - not that he's afraid of her, although if she really gets frightened and loses control he'd prefer to simply evacuate the premises than be forced to Stun her or something. "Words of advice? Ah, well - my own situation was quite different… but, I will say this: people like Delores Umbridge are far, far more dangerous than people like you and I, Miss Maplewood." Perhaps he heard a bit more of their conversation when he'd first arrived than he originally let on.

"Like sour milk. Or rotten eggs." She crawls into bed, dark eyes still on the vampire, fully convinced he's worn something to drive her absolutely crazy. "Skunk. Bad tomatoes. Roadkill. Burned plastic."

He'd probably be less of an assault on the senses if she wasn't so used to the sterile environment of the hospital, where she's smelled food and regular people and very little of the outside. That he's a vampire suddenly just makes sense, and her reaction is to relax considerably, leaning back against her pillow. "See, if you'd just said that to begin with— " Closing her eyes, she sighs. "I'm sorry about the vase. I just thought— I don't know what I thought." That he was here just to torture her. Wearing some smell that she could detect, but Jack couldn't. She wouldn't put it beyond anyone, because she's fully convinced that everyone in the world must hate her now.

Jack wrinkles his nose as she continues to list the different things she compares it to. He sighs. "Well, I didn't know you would be able to…" He should have. She's told him to bathe a couple of times, and she's smelled the food and correctly labeled it before the door has swung open. "I should've though. Didn't think." He nods at her advice. "I've been trying to tell her that. It's…" He slips into the realm of the trite for a moment. "It's what's inside that counts." There's a smile. "And you, ma'am, are pure gold."

"Ah, yes… I'm afraid our species are rather disinclined to enjoy each others' company, with some very rare exceptions," Ichabod says almost-sadly. After all, as a researcher, it's rather depressing to him that he's basically permanently barred from ever researching werewolf society from the inside. Although he should probably not be thinking about his ex-job, at the moment… he sighs. "Anyhow, Icarus, I wanted to inquire after your health. Are you safe here?" He's well aware of Jack's present 'fugitive' status, thanks to all of the information the Ministry is currently putting out. He's not much of a sentimental type, though he does smile a bit at the two of them.

What's inside is a very torn apart woman, who has to uproot everything she knows and essentially figure out how to live a brand new life. Not easy when you're over thirty and comfortable with your career. Maybe she can get back into the court - it's the first time she's ever considered that maybe without saying 'no' immediately afterward. Still, she ultimately forgets about the idea for now - again - until she can gauge peoples' reactions without automatically assuming they're out to get her. Pure gold? Not really. But she'll reach out and squeeze Jack's hand, anyway.

Her hand remains on the bandages which are, so far, still dry. Hopefully they stay that way. Her eyes open again and fix on Ichabod. Even if there's an explanation now, she doesn't entirely trust him, and she's not sure why. Bad first impression, maybe? Probably. Besides, she doesn't like him labeling her as some different 'species' in this round of imagined insults. Too bad, Ichabod. She's still a little sensitive about the whole werewolf thing, and is still in such denial that she very rarely even says it. If she doesn't, the problem doesn't exist. HOORAY!

Still, she can engage in conversation, right? "We're okay here. The mediwitches and wizards here don't answer to anyone, so they've kept the Ministry away."

Jack didn't think of that either. Typical Gryff. Charging in, trying to fix things without realizing certain things, like the fact that vampires and werewolves are pretty much mortal enemies. "Um. Yeah." Jack is grasping, here, and wondering what to say. "It's a good thing, too, or we might've been obliviated or something worse." He shudders. "Tonks' mum has been a great help." When she squeezes his hand, he squeezes back, not too hard, but enough to let her know that he cares, and is still there. "I'm sorry, Uncle Ichabod. I wasn't thinking." He frowns and offers the same apology to Holly with his eyes.

Despite having just inquired about Jack's health, after a moment Ichabod reaches into his pocket and takes out a silver pocketwatch, flipping it open and closed and then speaking again before his nephew can properly respond. "Drat. I'm afraid I have some other business to attend to…" Something about the way his eyes flash suggests he might be up to something; what exactly that is, who knows? He stuffs the watch back into his pocket and smiles thinly. "I'll check back in on you soon, Icarus. And you, Miss Maplewood." Despite the fact that she vase'd him. "Good evening." And with that, he ducks back into the hallway.

A little disjointed in places because it spanned like two whole days or something.

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