Little House of Wonderful Horrors (Blake)

It was a fine early spring afternoon. Niko had finished a late patrol last night, surveying the Shifter territories vigilantly for any signs of trouble. Fortunately, there was none. He just wanted to see Blake again after what had happened at the bowling alley to see how she was. The old lady’s comment had hurt her and on top of that, she’d been hurt by what had happened to her. And he still remembered what she’d said about moving around the furniture. He wanted to help. And he wanted to see what she’d done and how she was. He was walking down the pathway, among scattered leaves, to the house. In his hand, he held a large salmon which he’d caught earlier. It was staring up at him, googly-eyed and lay limp in his grasp. He intended to give it to Blake. He had caught two but he had eaten the first one already. Not the most charming of gifts but he thought she could’ve been hungry and fish was a good lunch option, sprinkled with vegetables or herbs. They could share it. He had caught it in his hands in his human form. It didn’t matter to him which one he used because he had learned how to fish effectively in his human form as well as his primal form. His clothes were still kind of damp from the water that’d splashed onto his clothes and exposed skin when he’d tried to catch the fish. The black shirt he wore and the loose grey pants. He’d chosen to wear loose clothing because it was fairly warm and not that cold. The air was muggy and slightly humid with some slight breezes that would pass by every so often. He wiped water off his face with the back of his hand. The fish had done the predictable. Thrashing around and writhing in his grasp once Niko had snatched it out of the water with two hands by the tail and it had almost hit him in the face a couple of times. It’d sprayed water everywhere the second he’d plunged his hands into the water to grasp it. He had killed it by using the sharp edge of a rock to bludgeon its brain to kill it instantly instead of letting it suffer on land trying to breathe. He’d done the same to the other fish he’d caught and transformed, eating that fish while thinking to catch another for Blake.

He craned his head upwards to see if he could see the canaries flying around in the window of the attic or outside. The male’s wing should’ve healed by now he thought. He had enjoyed their meeting, taking it all into stride. Eating them had been the last thing on his mind. As he walked he raised his arms high above his head and stretched, inter-twining his fingers together with his palms facing the skies. He closed his eyes, stifling a sleepy yawn and dropped his arms down to his sides. He reached back unconsciously with a hand, feeling for something that wasn’t there and turned around in one full circle as if he was searching for a tail and laughed to himself as he realized what he was doing. He would never be able to break that habit. Feet crunching the dirt path, he looked at the front door. Was she inside? What was she doing? He would work up a lot of sweat by moving furniture around. Did she still have the pentagram pendant? He wondered. He’d woken up in the morning and decided to leave it with her and not disturb her when she was sleeping, then gone to work. And he had forgotten about it while he had been thinking about his duties and his work. Over his shoulder, he had on a back-pack he’d brought with some books inside. On birds. There was a chapter on canaries in there. And he had a metal robot he’d made that resembled a robin. He’d painted it silver and put it some heat sensors inside the eyes. It could also shoot little projectiles made out of rubber at things. And twin video cameras installed inside its face behind the eyes so that he could use it as a surveillance thing. He had a digital screen he’d used to make a direct connection to the bird and could control it by speaking commands into the screen. It’d only recognize his voice and no one else’s. It’d been part of his project at work. A rejected part because out of all the prototypes he’d created the director hadn’t liked the robin. Too many of the same thing, he’d said. But he figured it could help with getting into the tiny areas of the house that he or Blake couldn’t get to in terms of chasing out some unwanted guests. He stopped in front of the door, scuffing his sneakers on the pavement in order to get rid of the dirt on the soles of the sneakers. He must be respectful towards another person’s house. He raised a fist and knocked on the door loudly twice, holding the fish tightly and shouted,“Blake are you in there?! It’s Niko!”

Barely past lunch time and she was starving. Granted she'd foregone her usual breakfast in the morning, but she'd just had herself a sandwich and was already craving more. In her little house in Monet Quarter, Blake stood leaning against the island bench of her renovated kitchen. Resting some of her weight on her forearms, the cold marble bench top refused to absorb her heat. Skin vs. stone, stone always won. It was hard and unyielding, even in it's smallest form. Twiddling her thumbs and tilting her head to the side she considered the possibility of making a more substantial meal. But that would require a trip into the city to get more supplies. Here she only had the very basics: bread, milk, a few spreads for sandwiches. Oh, and a toaster. Toast was tasty. But she needed something better in her stomach. She was thinking chicken. Grilled or crumbed, club sandwich or served with vegetables, it didn't matter. But the white meat would be a welcome change. She was still so painfully human. Locking herself in this secondary form, she was unlikely to share that secret so soon. Her trust was shaken, and though she'd had a little time to recover, it wasn't enough. The days since her discovery of Wesleys disloyalty had become indiscernible from one another. She thought about it often, wondering if there was any way she could've made things better. Every time she had to stop and remind herself of why they'd broken up. Each day she woke early from a very light sleep and threw herself into her work. She'd had the plumbing reconnected and redone, had the electrical settings rewired and plenty of furniture delivered. She'd managed - with numerous curse words and bruises to show for it - to put together her new bed before giving up on putting together any more pieces.

The remaining boxes sat in what should be the living room, stacked against the wall. The lounge she'd had delivered sat still with its plastic wrapping encasing its parts. Her examination room sat at the ready, as yet untouched without any shifters in need of mending. Across from the kitchen, over in the empty corner, sat  some large, unopened paint tins and neatly folded drop sheets. There were rollers and brushes somewhere too, waiting to be put to use in brightening the walls of this still lacklustre house. All in good time. There was still half a garden to be planted as well. She still had to find some plants that could flower for each season and look reasonably nice the rest of the year. She wanted her Practise to be a place of hope an happiness. It was crucial to keep the clinical feel to a minimum. Being Shifters, germs were the least of their worries. She hummed softly, fiddling with the pentagram pendant she'd taken to wearing around her neck more and more often. She stopped for a moment, watching is simply hang in front of her chest, swaying gently. She was unsure of her next move. A knock at the door saved her from making a decision. "Hey Niko!" She called back, rushing towards the door, throwing it open to reveal the Epror. He looked rather attractive in his casual attire. The dark shirt clung to his torso in a flattering manner while the grey pants were both stylish and practical. She felt rather drab in her own clothing, dressed in a thin white long-sleeved t-shirt, paired with a pair of torn jeans, rolled up at the ankles to show off her white canvas sneakers. The pentagram rested low on her chest, its chain quickly taking in the heat she gave off. "What's up? Did you want to come in, I can make you a sandwich?" She would've liked to have offered him something better, but as before she only had very limited stores in her cupboards. She stood aside, allowing him the choice to enter if he wished.

Outfit (Ignore the scarf)

He lowered his fist once he’d finished knocking and looked down at the fish. It was going straight into their stomachs. Maybe Blake had eaten already. He sniffed it for a brief moment. It still smelt the way it was supposed to smell even after walking for quite a while in the springtime weather. Did Blake like salmon? He didn’t know what her primal form was. If it was a feline, she probably would. All felines liked fish right? He supposed she could’ve already eaten a sandwich and she probably wasn’t hungry. But he had been thinking about her. He heard her call from inside and looked up from the fish just as the door opened to reveal Blake. He could see some bruises on her that he thought were from her activities of bustling around the house, though they were not that severe. He guessed she’d been moving around a lot in the house with the furniture and doing other things. There was also a garden if memory served him right. Had she been working in there, planting and potting everything and gotten some marks to show for it? Her clothing was quite thin. Casual wear. It outlined her body well. He liked it. The jeans he thought, had already been torn from the start. It was one of those fashion things. The tears. Though he never quite understood that. She was wearing the pendant. His eyes lingered on it, caught off guard but he thought it looked good on her. He chuckled,“Hey glad to see you still have the pendant.” He teased her, “I’m going to have to get that back from you later you know. I need it in a satanic ritual to bring forth my alter ego Nicolaus.” He was speaking of the devil. Old Saint Nick. He was joking of course. But it’d have been funny if she thought he was really one of those crazy satanic worshippers because it was so far removed from what he really was. Not crazy. Not dabbling in weird rituals. He leaned against the doorframe resting the side of his head against it as well as his shoulder crossing his arms and winked at her, smirking,“I’m here to be your furniture specialist in moving around all things heavy and back-breaking, dare-devil roof person and terminator of all things that go bump in the night.” Raising the hand with the fish in it, he gave her a slight smile,“I caught this from the river. We can make a salmon sandwich. Or I don’t know, salmon and chicken…” He paused, “Wait that sounds weird. Maybe we can eat both separately and make salmon sandwich and chicken sandwich. I’m in the mood for salmon.”

He started to walk inside, taking off his back-pack and set it down at his feet at the side of the doorway so neither of them would trip by accident. He unzipped the backpack and reached inside to pull out a large container and pulled off the lid, placing the fish inside. The robot wasn’t important at the moment. He knew how the floors and carpet could be if he dropped the fish. The smell would stick to the floorboards. He straightened, looking around the vicinity at the various things inside. Boxes stacked up against the wall, pieces of furniture spread around the room with the plastic wrapping still on it. He glanced to his left where the bedroom was and noticed the appearance of a new bed. Bruises must’ve come from putting it together. He headed to the boxes, curious to see what was inside until he spied tins of unopened paint in the corner of the kitchen and some extra sheets. Where were the rollers and the brushes? He didn’t see any. He’d hunt for them later. Painting he guessed, was something else she had on her mind. Though he thought the house looked fine from outside. But he didn’t have an eye for those kinds of things. He could reach areas she couldn’t though. He was surprised to see how much she had prepared in what he thought was a short time and she had made a bed too. Impressive. He set the container on the kitchen counter and washed his hands under the tap before walking back out, stretching his back to its fullest as well as his arms and turning his neck from side to side to loosen all the muscles in each area. He rolled his shoulders and said, glancing at her,“So where do we start first doc? The hired muscle is ready for action.”

She looked down, seeing the pendant. Her hand shot up to grasp it, her thumb tracing the lines of the star. She nodded. "Oh, yeah, I just got a little attached to it. But if you need it back that's fine." She wasn't entirely sure about the alter-ego thing, but it wasn't hers to wear in the first place. Was he flexing? He leaned against the door frame and she could've sworn she saw him flexing. That's a little odd. No, maybe that's just his natural muscle showing. "Oh, um, great. There's a bunch of flatpack you can put together for me if you really want to." She thought for a moment, wondering what other jobs she could get him to do. If they painted now, she'd need him back on another day to put together furniture. That didn't seem fair. She blinked, looking at the fish for the first time. She wasn't really a fan of seafood unless she was having some takeaway fish 'n' chips. Natural lions almost never ate fish, it was only when they were desperate they might eat freshly dead fish. She preferred red meat herself, although fowl was a welcome bit of variety. Chicken really was sounding good today. "Oh thanks for the fish. Come in, we can put it in the fridge." She walked into the entrance foyer, the staircase to the second level on the left. "You remember the attic upstairs? I took a good look at it and it's actually a good second level. It's going to be my living quarters when it's done." She added for his benefit. On the right was a doorway leading to a living room. As they walked down the little hallway they passed two more doors. The first was the examination room, the door standing firmly shut in the rooms disuse. The second was a bedroom she'd allocated for any patients who may require an overnight stay, better than having to transport them upstairs if they had some major physical injury. Inside was the bed she'd managed to put together, a basic everyday single bed.

In the kitchen she picked up the container and made her way to the fridge, opening the freezer door and putting in the container holding the fish. She looked around at the house, far better than it used to look. "Well, if you're the brawn and I'm the brains, there's a couple tasks made just for you. There's a few bits of furniture, lounges and tables, that need to be moved around. They're all sitting in the living room at the moment. There's a few flatpack boxes as well, shelving units and the like, that need to be put together. Plus my bed upstairs, that needs to be built. We could do the painting, but that would mean watching paint dry... I like doing the gardens myself, so you're in the clear on that one. Ummm, what else, what else," She started counting on her fingers, mumbling to herself, "The plumbings connected, the electricity's been wired, oh! It's not a big job but we can put the new locks and doorhandles on the doors. The old ones were a bit messed up." She thought about the fireplace, it could do with a bit of a clean, plus the mantle needed prettying up - she thought she might mount her bo-staff on the wall above the fireplace. Eventually it would be a comfy place to relax. It wouldn't be just a doctors clinic, but also a retreat. All these more cosmetic jobs could wait, she needed to get the big jobs out of the way first.

“No problem,” He replied.“I don’t know if you had lunch or not and I was fishing so I thought you might be hungry. And you can keep the pendant. I wasn’t being serious.” He listened, looking towards the stairs and up it as she pointed it out while his mind was pondering what she had said about putting together the flat packs. He hadn’t put together this type of furniture before. Usually because he hadn’t needed to before. But it couldn’t be any different from putting together robots and mechanical contraptions and objects. He was good with his hands. And making the shelves would be like a puzzle.“Yeah I remember it,” He nodded.“Cool. It’s a good place to make your living quarters. You can even set up a study room up there for all your books and medical equipment.” There were two more rooms that they had passed. One which had the door closed. He did not know what it was. Only that it was a door. Blake hadn’t spoken of what she had planned to do with the house to him. He thought she had only wanted to renovate it into her own house but he guessed she had plans of making it into a general practice for doctoring. Of the animal kind. As he walked past the second bedroom, he spied the bed inside that she’d made along with a reading lamp that had been set up on the dressing table and a deer passing by the window. He could feel his tongue salivating. Now that was weird. He had quickly turned away, wandering back to the main area at the kitchen. He was glad she seemed okay. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting but he’d be there for her. Just being. He felt like she had risked her job for him so he owed her this much. And he liked fixing things and generally moving around. It was a good work-out. And he liked being around her anyway. He looked up at the ceiling where the lights were installed. The plumbing and electricity had already been done. Good. He supposed she’d already checked if all the lights were working and the power points. And the gas on the stove for each stove plate to start a fire to cook. The fridge was clearly working. The padlocks and locks were an interesting addition. It did make sense. If she wanted to keep unwanted guests out of the house while she was tending to her patients for health and safety reasons. Rodents. Birds. Even other Shifters that weren’t allowed inside because it would hinder the healing process. But he didn’t think it’d keep everyone out. It was a good safety measure though. He said, “Sure I’ll help you set up the padlocks and locks.”

He said as she finished explaining,“On it. I’ll go move the furniture around and then I’ll get onto making the shelves and your bed. You gotta tell me where you want me to move the furniture around though.” He headed back inside the living room, looking around at the furniture spread across the room. He would start first by taking off the sheets off the furniture to make it easier to push so that they wouldn’t get caught underneath the couch while the furniture was being moved. He did so, walking around each item of furniture and pulling off the sheets one by one. As he did he asked,“So how are the canaries? Are they still up there in the attic?” He bundled the sheets up in in his arms and went to the side of the room, bending down and putting them in a pile on the floor. Standing, he turned around and scratched his head, gazing at the assortment of furniture and taking in the size of the room and the arrangement. There was one long couch, a lounge and a couple of sofas and even a beanbag chair with a coffee table in the middle and a vase of flowers resting on top. And another table that was round and flat with a hole in it. The couches were stylish, modern with a touch of classical old world charm. Beige and brown and cream coloured. As it was, the furniture pieces were all cluttered haphazardly around the room. Where to start first? He looked at her questioningly.“So what do you want to move first and where?”

(Ooc - sorry in advance, it's going to be a short one)

Her hand immediately went to grip the pendant she'd inexplicably become attached to. It was still warm though the chain around her neck was barely room temperature. She nodded. "Yeah, that's my plan, to set myself up close to my work but also have my own kind of escape up there." She walked with him to the living room, currently a disarray of boxes and mismatched furniture. Leaning against the wall in one corner were the bedposts for her bed, taped together and still in their plastic bubblewrap. My bed can wait, she thought, I'll use the patient bed until I get a chance to put it together. She moved along with him, removing cushions and sheets from the furniture - a preemptive decision that she was going to get painting today. But this was better, it made more sense. If she could get everything in its place it would be a simple matter to cover the furniture while she pained. It was preferable to waiting for the paint to dry before she could settle anything down. She smiled thinking of the canaries. "Yeah, they were in there yesterday," "There" of course meaning in the old nursery where they'd first been found. It was a common thought for the Mender since, to her mind at least, such an association made sense. She hadn't accounted for whether or not Niko would understand her meaning. "I didn't feed them though, so they might be back today if you're lucky." She fell silent, attuning her ears to the sounds from the level above. There were no chirps, no fluttering of tiny wings, nor the small sound of little claws scraping the floor or window ledge. Perhaps later in the afternoon they might stop in if they weren't too busy. She looked around at everything, wondering where to start. "Everything that's already down here should be easy enough to move. Maybe if we get the larger bits upstairs first?" She trailed off, ending in an upward inflexion as though asking him a question. As an afterthought, she decided they should organise each of the unpacked boxes into the rooms where their parts would make a whole. She crossed the room, standing at one end of a pale green three-seater couch. This one she wanted upstairs in her private living area. "We'll star with this one. It goes in the upstairs living room. You go backwards, I'll support it from this end and direct you." She crouched, her back to the window, and settled the fingers of her right hand in a reasonably comfortable grip on the base. Her left hand went to support the back of the chair in preparation for his movements.

(Occ: It's fine)

She had taken the cushions off for some reason. He wasn’t sure why but it probably had something to do with painting and moving to make those two things easier. He said,“It’s a good idea. I have something like that in my apartment too. Place where I work but it’s the same place where I chill out. But instead of medical stuff I have mechanical stuff and gadgets. And some books on human anatomy and animals. If you want I can give you some. I brought some to give you since I’m running out of space on my bookshelf and get rid of some books.” He looked up at the ceiling as she responded to him about the canaries listening for any sounds that they were there. They could have found some food outside but they may have liked it here as well. They may have grown attached to the house and Blake and associated it with food. “There” had to mean where the canaries had been when they’d first seen them of course. That made the most sense. He said to her grinning.“We should give them names. We can call the female one Dr Blake Jr and the male one Leonidas like that guy in the movie 300. The gladiator. Because he’s got the heart of one.” He made low growling noises, rubbing his stomach with his hand and grinned even wider,“I hope they come back. I’m reeeally hungry.” He actually did want to see them. And he didn’t actually want to eat them. But he enjoyed teasing Blake and seeing her smile. The canaries seemed to make her smile. He was waiting to see what she would say. This was her residence. He would not dictate where she should put her things but he would help guide her if she was lost. He was sure she had some plan in mind, even if it was a rough one. She seemed to be looking to him though, voicing out a place to start moving things around but didn’t seem so sure. Large pieces first then pieces for the downstairs area? He took a look around the room, taking into account the layout of the furniture and the different sizes. It made sense.

He said,“Yeah let’s move the big stuff that you need to upstairs first. It’ll be easier to move the smaller stuff around once we take the bigger stuff upstairs.” He followed Blake to the couch, walking to the opposite side when he realized she was going to stop at the other side nearest to the window. It was long and thick. Very much so which would make it slightly difficult to move within a narrow space. Up the stairs in this case. But they could manage. He knelt down, gripping the bottom corners of the couch with his hands. The material was soft which was good. With a grunt he started to stand again once he had a secure grip on the couch, raising his end up above the floor pressing his arms against the sides of the piece of furniture to brace himself and shuffling his feet a few inches away so that it didn’t strain his back that much as he stood up. Looking at Blake to make sure that she had a good grip on the couch he began to move to the right to straighten the couch, taking a few steps backwards until he felt the bottom step press against the back of his sneaker. He glanced back over his shoulder and said, “Okay up we go. Slowly.” He lifted his end of the couch up higher, pulling it closer so that it was against his chest. He started to go up the steps one by one. Slowly while looking at Blake at the same time. The height difference wouldn’t matter that much since he was carrying the other end tightly and securely. But with each step, he would have to go fast. The little pauses in between caused him to feel slight soreness in his arms. But he just had to make sure not to drop it. As they moved up the staircase (backwards in his case), he realized they were getting to a corner at the stair-case which turned at the left on his side. He raised his voice,“Okay stop!” He moved his right foot backwards, turning his body to the right slightly while maintaining a tighter grip on the left corner. He rested against the banister of the stair-case and used part of his body to let the bottom left side of the couch rest against his chest and leg while he was supporting it with his left hand. With his right arm, he held the right corner, pressing against it. He gazed at her solemnly,“We are now moving onto the next frontier. From this moment on we have to synergize into one entity that turns to the right and left. Your right will become my left. My left will become your right. The code-word will be…”He paused.“Pivot. On three…one, two, THREE!” He started to go backwards again, moving his right hand further inwards to balance out the weight of the couch and started to turn the corner of the stairs while calling,“PIVOT! PIVOT!”

She nodded, lips curved into a little smile of agreement. A place to oneself was a beautiful privilege. This place could be for anything, it was as individual as the person who occupied it. It could be a meditation room, a library, an office, a greenhouse or something that can't be summed up in a single word. Even though this downstairs lounger would be a sort of waiting room or playroom. But she could vividly imagine herself on a freezing winters night, a fire burning in the hearth. She'd sit bundled in a blanket on the couch wearing fluffy socks on her feet. She'd have a mug of something hot on the floor beside her and a book in her hand. She could make it a treat for the children too. She didn't know of any Shifters with young ones at the moment, but surely there would be some in the future. She could bring them here and teach them how to roast marshmallows and make s'mores. An interesting prospect. She'd likely be the one to tend these children, at the very least in a medical sense. For the meantime she needn't trouble herself with details, but preparedness couldn't go astray. His voice brought her back to the present once more. "You can have Leonidas, I'll name the female Amelia, after Amelia Earhart." She said with a smirk. She liked the intrigue and interest of the name. If she had to name the canary she wanted a name with meaning behind it. Earhart had been the first female to fly on her own across the atlantic ocean and a strong advocate for women rights. The name had substance. Together they raised the couch, walking towards the staircase. Going up to the next level was fine, but at the top they took a turn to the right before opening out onto the landing, it made moving the couch come to a screeching halt. They were stuck, it just didn't want to move. All she could hear was Niko shouting "Pivot!" She couldn't see the point in his yelling. "Oh shush!" She said a little loudly, refusing to "pivot" the couch. "This is getting us nowhere." She whipped her head around, trying to find something that could help them. "Okay, my left is your right and vice versa, but we can work with that. We need to get this couch around the corner and up the last few steps. Uhmmmm..." She trailed off, looking at the couch intensely. They'd already removed the cushions, what else was there? "The feet. We can unscrew the feet, that'll give us a little more room. Here, lower with me." She lowered her end of the couch, hovering it inches from the ground so she could remove the two feet from her end. She tossed them on the seat and waited for him to do the same. "They won't scratch the walls now, so we can turn the couch a bit to get it to fit. When we lift, I want you to rotate the couch to your left, I'll guide from back here. Don't worry if the legs roll down the stairs, we can get them later. If we're lucky, it'll slide right through." She crouched once more, regaining her grip. "Okay... now lift." So she did.

It was great to have a place of one’s own. It was different for everyone but it generally had the same sentiment behind it. It was a place to get away from the world. Sit with all the thoughts swirling around in the mind and just be. Niko enjoyed being around friends. Around company who he could laugh with and talk with at ease while talking about the bad things too. But there were times when he liked to be alone too. He’d just lie on the rug or couch in either his human form or primal form and ponder and reflect on all the thoughts that plagued his mind day in, day out. Ponder his next move. On work. On the members of the Shifters and those that he had yet to meet. On the laneways, the forestry and the rivers that he’d traversed in while being here and all the nooks and crannies. On the borders. And he’d close his eyes and let the thoughts he buried deep into the abyss of his mind underneath a veil of optimism creep out and the happiness would fade as darker thoughts came to the forefront. He was optimistic. That was who he was but he wasn’t completely naïve. He had seen too much to be that way. Felt too much. But sometimes he saw good things. And it reminded him that there was some good despite how bad this world could seem. He looked across at Blake. He could picture her in a rocking chair in this place with a book in her hands and a coffee mug or some hot chocolate at her side. With a book or one of the Shifters in her lap. He already knew she was a coffee girl from their walk back from the hospital. Hot chocolate seemed to suit her too. She was probably thinking about treating patients. Other Shifters. Had there been a hearth up in that attic for a fireplace? He didn’t remember seeing one but it would be cozy to have one, if anything in order to help with the winter cold. The warmth of a fire was a calming thing in the freezing cold and with company it was even better. He chuckled as she spoke of him having Leonidas and named the female one Amelia.“Never knew you were a fan of aviation mysteries and yeah, she was the first female pilot I think, to take a transatlantic flight to the great unknown and come back. Least that’s what she wanted. But no one really knows what happened to her. I think they might've found her bones on an island somewhere,” Niko said. He started to move back upwards a few steps, going to the left at the same time and almost tripped as he stepped on something large and squishy, stumbling forwards slightly into the side of the couch but managed to get his balance back without hassle. He put his right foot back and leaned back, pulling it again with all his might but it would not budge. It was stuck. He thought he heard Blake say something over his yelling but he couldn’t hear what it was. She’d stopped. He looked at her innocently not speaking for a moment and pausing for a long while before finally mouthing to her silently. Pivot. But yes, the pivoting was not working and he could see that.

He stayed in the same position, contemplating what to do as he stared at it. They would have to lift it at his end and get it over. Then they could balance it on the banister at the middle while they both held it to support it. He could keep on walking backwards, up the stairs, while dragging it over the banister. At the same time she could rotate her end to the side close to the wall so that the couch would end up being straight while he would maneuver it into the same position at his end. That should work. He figured. But he realized it’d leave marks on the walls. He glanced at Blake again, starting to speak when she started speaking about unscrewing the feet. He slowly lowered his end with her and started to unscrew the feet from his end and placed them with their fellow feet. He had a feeling she was thinking what he was thinking. Well, more or less. He lifted his end again and rotated the couch to the left. He said, “I’m going to lift my end up higher and move up some steps.” He did so, grunting as he tugged the couch further inwards closer to his chest. The couch was truthfully not heavy but the act of moving up the stairs with it made it difficult. He continued to move up, noticing that the ceiling was getting awfully close to his head. He twisted his side slightly, glancing back over his shoulder and said as he stepped up onto the floor of the attic, bringing the couch further into the room slowly and carefully.“Last step. Where do you want to put this thing?” He backed up so that Blake would have enough room to fit, bumping into the chest they’d found on their last visit. Even the grandfather clock was still there. The window was wide open. Niko spotted an open container of birdseed on the book-shelf and some yellow feathers that were sprinkled around it. Some of the toys were scattered on the floor and there was one of a stuffed leopard toy lying on its side with scratch marks on it. Niko said, "I think I'm going to like Leonidas."

(Ooc - apologies again, it's going to be a short one. With the skip coming up we probably won't get everything done that we wanted to but we can at least show that they did get stuff done... soon my love)

She shrugged, lowering her end of the couch to the floor. She was sorely tempted to kick off her shoes and let her toes wriggle in the newly laid carpet. It was sinfully soft and absolutely delightful underfoot, but she resisted the urge. She lifted thinned of the lounge, screwing each foot back into place. I've had quite a few years with which to study. But it was just one of those names from school you actually remember for some absurd reason." She straightened up, putting her hands on her hips and looking around the room. "Alright, lets get the cushions for this thing and the boxes for up here." She turned and trotted down the stairs, crossing the foyer straight into the living room. She set to clumsily gathering the large seat cushions in her arms, often dropping one in the pursuit to bend and retrieve another. She wanted to save herself the second trip just for a few light seat cushions. She tried to look at Niko over the pile, her chin very nearly unbalancing the delicate pile in her arms. "Those posts and boxes over in the corner there are for my bedroom upstairs. The rest of the boxes I'll have to read the labels to check which ones are being moved." She was in love with that bed. She'd seen it by accident whilst window shopping and couldn't help but buy it for herself. It was a dark-wash timber bed, queen-sized. The frame was square, but the colouring was rustic, a beautiful combination of old and new. She couldn't wait to sleep in it. Swiftly and not-so-silently she dashed up the staircase, dumping the pillows on the lounge to be organised later, rushing back down the staircase without a thought as to whether Niko was already on his way up. Was that him? She knew she almost his something, but it could've been the bannister at the bottom of the staircase. If that was it, she'd have a bruise tomorrow. Using her momentum she flew into her medical office, snagging a marker from the desk.

Back in the living room she flitted her way between the boxes, reading each label. Beechworth quadruple cube,That was staying downstairs. Signature S... that was an upstairs piece. She pulled the cap off the marker with her teeth and marked the front of the box with a huge X. Silverlight lamp... that was staying downstairs in the living room. She found the box for her beds matching side table and marked it with an X as well. The television settings were coming within the next few days, but she'd already organised for the delivery men to place those for her and take away the rubbish. But the television had already arrived and sat in its box, waiting. That box got an X as well. The boxes for the dvd player, stereo system, another bookshelf and the remaining lamps also got markings whilst the computer, printer and kitchen appliances remained untouched. Capping the marker, she picked up one of the boxes for the upstairs bookshelf and walked into the foyer, calling out to the household in general, "The boxes with the X go upstairs. They're just minor assembly pieces and a few appliances," before ascending the stairs once more. I'm going to have killer thighs by the end of this.

Occ: Yeah no worries I get it. This reply isn't as good sorry. I'm trying my best with the time skip and all      

He set his end down, reaching out with an arm to catch a couple of the leg feet that had tumbled off the seat in his hand and knelt down behind his end on one knee.“Yeah you do,” He said. Setting the feet down he began to attach them back twisting them on each leg one by one until it was tight and stood up, bending to swipe the leopard toy and some of the other toys and half-turned, aiming for the open chest and threw them inside casually in an over-head throw. It was easier to move the furniture around if there weren’t so many things on the floor to get in the way. He turned around, heading out the attic behind her. Cushions and boxes for up here. He walked down the stairs, tapping his fingers on the banister as he gazed in front of him over her head. He walked down a step, heading for the cushions in order to help her but she had it under control. He wanted to go pick up the cushions but there were still boxes that needed to be picked up. He started to walk around to do so when she tried to look up at him past the cushions she was carrying. He stared at her, caught off guard. All he could see were a pair of eyes and part of a forehead and some hair behind a pile of cushions but it made him feel warm. He placed his hand on top of the cushions in an attempt to make it so that the stack wasn’t blocking her view and said with a smile,“You look cute.”

He walked past her towards the corner and picked up the boxes first, stacking them in his arms. Slipping his foot underneath the posts and lifted his foot balancing them on the top of his sneaker. With a swift motion, he threw the posts into the air to land on the top box and leaned back slightly to make the posts roll down towards his chest. He turned and padded towards the stair case, just as he saw her rushing back down the stairs.“Hey slow down or you’re going to hurt yourself!” He called after her. He didn’t think that she was clumsy but in her rush, he thought she could trip by accident or something and hurt herself in some way. He walked up the stairs, setting the boxes down and caught the bed posts as they rolled down in both hands to put them down beside the boxes. He walked out of the attic, going down the stairs two at a time. He heard her voice and yelled,“Got it!” At the same time, he passed her on the steps on the way down, twisting his head as he heard something upstairs. Something falling. A book? Was there a rat up there? He didn’t see where he was going and bumped into her, almost tripping over the step and immediately reached out to hold the banister. At the same time he held Blake’s back with his arm so that she wouldn’t fall with him and said,“We may have some company up there so just watch out.” He jumped down the last three steps, landing smoothly and went back into the living room searching for the boxes that were marked X. Niko walked to the largest box. Her bed, he assumed. Then there were the other boxes. Smaller, thinner ones. He could’ve stacked the box up one by one to carry them like that but he’d probably drop them and break something so he didn’t. He passed her by, moving to the side so that he didn’t end up hitting her in the process of moving up and began to side-step upwards, looking at her.“Careful of heavy objects. I’ll make your bed after the rest of the boxes are moved up.” He went back into the attic, putting the box down and ran down the stairs, passing her again and went into the living room to swipe a box that had a picture of a DVD player on it in it in his arm and a box that looked it like it a lamp in it in his hand. He picked up a couple of boxes with the pictures of some speakers on it in his other arm and walked back up the stairs, taking long strides so that he’d get upstairs quicker.  Getting into the attic again, he put the boxes down. The speakers went down first. They were heavier. Then the DVD player and the lamp. He turned and headed back down, rolling his shoulders sub-consciously and tilted his neck side to side.

When he called her cute, she could have blushed. When his hand went to her back to stop her from falling, all she felt was warmth and security. And when their shoulders brushed in passing on the staircase there was a spark of electricity. Probably just static, she thought. New carpet does that. The work went quickly once they got going. Niko took to moving the dvd player and stereo. She had dropped off the bookshelf and gone back for the bedside tables, then the lamp. All the small stuff like connecting electrical appliances to one another she could do on her own if they didn't have the time - google was always a big help there. But she might wait on all that until she'd painted the place. She'd enjoy that, gentle, methodical work. Although her mind might not appreciate the extensive amount of thinking time. It was time to brood, time to consider all the what ifs. Those sorts of thoughts were not conducive to a positive mindset. She had this feeling that if the thoughts ever got too bad she could call Niko, but she didn't want to be a bother to her new friend. She already knew that once the thoughts started she'd just have to ride through them until the course changed to something better. They might fade with the passing time, or they might not. She couldn't say for sure. In terms of her remaining family her thoughts were mostly numb, without feeling. When she remembered her old life it was like envisioning memories described to her by another. They didn't feel like her own, they felt like watching a film of some old friends life, someone she was once close to but now could hardly recognise. Come on Blake, came the mantra, get your head in the game. She brought herself into the bedroom, finding the posts and boxes of her bed already waiting to be put together. She figured she might as well get started on the bookshelf for the living area. Ducking downstairs she grabbed a sizeable knife from the kitchen. While she walked she twirled it absentmindedly in her fingers, similar to how one might twirl Chinese ring daggers, switching from one grip to the next. Upstairs she sat cross-legged on the carpet, sliding the box into her lap. She twirled the knife into a typical cutting grip, slicing away the tape from the box in quick moves. She lay the utensil beside her, opening the lid of the box to reveal the wooden sections for the bookshelf. There was another sound, like the one that sparked Niko's warning. Her head snapped up, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Shrugging, she returned to pulling the pieces from the box and laying them out on the carpet. Grasping the instructions, she gave them a cursory glance, identifying each piece on the diagram with each piece on the ground. There it was again. The sound. This time she reacted much faster. She rolled quickly into a crouch, swiping up the knife in the process and holding it in a defensive grip, her left hand on the ground to steady her. Silence. She breathed quietly, listening. In. Out. In. Out. Thud. There it was. It was coming from the old nursery. She stood, knife in hand. She slid the grip around, holding it more like a serial killer as she approached the door. Where did Niko go? came the idle thought. She gripped the handle, stopping to breathe. The mender burst through the door, prepared to slash at her intruder. Instead she was met with an empty room. Huh? she cocked her head to the side in animalistic confusion. Thud. It came from the window. It was one of the canaries. She'd forgotten that in the previous nights storm she'd shut all the windows to stop the rain getting in. She dropped the knife with a clatter and quickly moved to open the window. "Hey Niko!" she called out. "You've got a visitor!" She said with a smile.