Settling into a new home.

The trauma of his rescue and the Family's reuniting had passed, and slowly Naitachel was settling into the routine of this new home. The large network of caverns and passages carved deep underground was like a maze, however, and not bets suitable for one of limited direction-sense such as himself. On the other hand, he had his family to look out for him and help him stay out of trouble, for the most part... at least when they were not enjoying the amusing nuisance factor his straying caused. To his aid, however, he had been given an electronic security bracelet that allowed him safe access and authority all over the complex, and it was useful for locating and monitoring him like it was used on all members of the colony. Also, they had introduced him (if briefly) to key members of the human colony. Well, the latter was supposed to help in theory, at least?

Still, Naitachel was slow to find his way beyond the Princes' section's walls. For the most part, he kept himself limited to the family's quarters and the chapel during the first week or so of his stay, to heal and watch Radu heal, get acquainted with his family again (young/new Brianna especially), and learn how to fit in before he dare trying. His forays beyond were more rare, and tenative. Yet all this confinement to stone passageways and rooms were already starting to wear the tips of his feathers and give him a faint thrill of feeling cramped, and he began to wonder if he might request visiting the surface again, if only to test his newly-healed wings.

Well, perhaps he could ask Radu once he found his way back to their quarters from this hall. Where was he, again?

Soraya exited Lindsay's clinic, obviously lost in thought. The nurse practitioner hadn't been able to give her much in terms of details, though the two of them together had pinned down a due date, and now that date loomed heavily on Soraya's mind. There was so much to be done between now and then.

There would be so much to do after that date. It had been difficult enough raising children before. But now, to keep an infant safe? To ensure they would live at least long enough to reach maturity before first death took them? The task seemed almost insurmountable.

Another wave of nausea hit her, though perhaps brought on as much by nerves as by hormones, and she found herself forced to lean with her back against the wall and her eyes closed in order to wait for it to pass.

It took a few moments for it to pass, and a few moments more for the redhead to register that there was a familiar presence nearby.

"Naitachel?" she called, glancing about to try to locate the errant seraph. Knowing him, he had gotten himself lost; she saw no other reason for his having wandered this way.

Naitachel heard a familiar voice call his name, and with a smile headed in its direction, much relieved to have found someone familiar--or, rather, to be found by someone familiar. Trotting up, his robes and tail feathers swishing on the stone floor in his wake, he beamed at her brightly as he came around a corner.

"Soraya! It is good to be found again. I believe I have lost my way once more," he admitted cheerfully, not bothered by the notion in the least and simply joyful to have a chance so soon to find the correct path again. "Where are we, do you know, and what brings you here?"

"You? Have lost your way?" Soraya responded with mock dismay before grinning at him. "We really should put some sort of leash on you. Or teach you to leave a trail of breadcrumbs," she said.

She nodded in the direction they needed to walk and began ambling in that direction. "For once, I do actually know where we are," she informed him. "I am admittedly surprised that Radu has left you alone to wander. Perhaps he thought it would teach you more quickly?" she suggested, "Or perhaps he simply finds it amusing?"

The redhead shook her head and rounded a corner with him. As for his other question, she knew the seraph could ferret out a lie before it was even told, and so she decided to stick with the truth, or some watered-down version of it. "I was merely here for a routine check-up with Lindsay," she explained. "Lindsay is a nurse practitioner and the closest thing to a physician we currently have. She is quite good, thankfully. And you? What has led you to this particular part of, 'town?'"

"Oh, I am certain Radu finds this amusing, I assure you. But it is harmless fun." Naitachel shook his head, smiling wryly as he teasingly mentally prodded Radu. She was correct in that--he could feel his mate's amusement in the distance. Not that he minded in the least; it was amusing even to himself. But having to backtrack again and again, he at times wondered how he might turn the favor back to Radu by making him the cause of amusement for a time. Mischief along the lines of tickling came to mind for when he finally made it back through this maze of passages...

Then again, maybe that was why Radu hadn't made any attempt to help yet?

Soraya wrote:"I was merely here for a routine check-up with Lindsay," she explained. "Lindsay is a nurse practitioner and the closest thing to a physician we currently have. She is quite good, thankfully. And you? What has led you to this particular part of, 'town?'"

The Seraph chuckled and spread helpess hands to indicate his surroundings. "I have yet to understand what part of 'town' I am in, let alone how I discovered it! These halls look all the same to myself. That I left the previous one, with the chapel, and not yet returned to it is a wonder. I had hoped to find our quarters again, but that would require likely a great deal of thread, as I have no wish to waste whole trays of bread for crumbs..."

He glanced out of the corner of his eye at her, and added uncertainly, "A check-up... is not required of all who reside here, surely?" He disliked being poked and prodded, even by friends of the family. They always seemed so very fascinated with him, somehow, much to his embarrassment and chagrin. Something about the feathers, or maybe because of them--almost as if they just had a hard time believeing what they saw?

Of course, as they finished rounding the turn in the corridor, trouble found them. It swept up to them with the rough but wild and unstoppable energy of a tornado.

It's name was Mark Beaumont. While a true pain in the butt to anything even quasi-feminine and vaguely pretty (though he at least stuck to those in legal age), and with the conduct of a typical sleazy salesman, he had a way with plants that was beyond legendary. Rumor said he could make grass grow on the dark side of a table, or edible mushrooms take root on solid metal. If it was alive and rooted, he could convince it to mature and produce in quantities that made Miracle Grow look like plain dust. His successes had kept the colony in amble food supplies, and made most tolerant to his slimy ways, though at least he kept his advances to legal age and above and never took it farther than an opportune smack to the rear and such minor groping. Ruggedly handsome, rather tall and strapping and almost all muscle from working in the greenhouses, he laughed to some of his fellow colonists that he liked keeping his blonde stubble like this because it made the girls more reluctant to slap his face--it made slapping him akin to slapping a cactus. Still, not all slapped or were reluctant to his advances, which, unfortunately, only encouraged him.

He bounded up with a cheerful and sly grin, and shoved between Naitachel and Soraya so he could drape an arm across the shoulders of both at the same time, falling into step with them easily. "Oy! What have we here, eh? Showing the new princess the ropes, Soraya? Eh, and here a bunch of us were beginning to wonder when she might start to pull her weight, and where. You do stuff, after all, so just a matter of time, huh? Got an opening in the kitchen since that one gal left to find her family... Or she can help out with laundry, maybe... Hey, not a bad idea--she's got a lot of effort into those white skirts, after all, so why not return the favor by helping with ours? I've underwear that needs a good bleaching..." He smirked broadly. "Or she can always lend us a hand with the sludge pools--we need recruits there."

The redhead laughed at Naitachel's analysis of Radu's current entertainment at his expense. It was good to know that the vampire's spirits had risen so much since the seraph's safe return from a long absence.

Naitachel wrote:He glanced out of the corner of his eye at her, and added uncertainly, "A check-up... is not required of all who reside here, surely?" He disliked being poked and prodded, even by friends of the family. They always seemed so very fascinated with him, somehow, much to his embarrassment and chagrin. Something about the feathers, or maybe because of them--almost as if they just had a hard time believeing what they saw?

"No," Soraya laughed again with a vehement shake of her head, "a checkup is not required of all who reside here. To be sure, Lindsay would likely love getting her hands on you to ensure you are mending well, but she will not force the issue. Besides, our own family's word tends to be law here. I hardly believe that Radu would be the one to force you into such a situation, even for his own amusement," she teased. That amusement, however was short-lived.

Naitachel wrote: [Mark Beaumont] bounded up with a cheerful and sly grin, and shoved between Naitachel and Soraya so he could drape an arm across the shoulders of both at the same time, falling into step with them easily. "Oy! What have we here, eh? Showing the new princess the ropes, Soraya? Eh, and here a bunch of us were beginning to wonder when she might start to pull her weight, and where. You do stuff, after all, so just a matter of time, huh? Got an opening in the kitchen since that one gal left to find her family... Or she can help out with laundry, maybe... Hey, not a bad idea--she's got a lot of effort into those white skirts, after all, so why not return the favor by helping with ours? I've underwear that needs a good bleaching..." He smirked broadly. "Or she can always lend us a hand with the sludge pools--we need recruits there."

Soraya quickly peered at Naitachel under Mark's chin, sighing apologetically. <I am sorry for him,> she told Naitachel quickly. <He is known around here for his advances, but he is rather indispensable when it comes to growing our crops.>

Aloud, the expecting mother merely answered Mark, "Naitachel is male, not female. Perhaps, as such, you would not mind getting your arm off of him."

"Indeed," a quiet baritone issued forth from the shadows behind them. "You may find that preferable to losing the limb."

The Seraph stiffened on having an arm slung over his shoulder so casually, and almost cringed at the slimy feel of the man's temperment and aura being so imposed on his own by such close and almost intimate contact. No, this fellow was hardly the most honorable of creatures, and only knowledge of what might happen to him if he went too far out of bounds kept the man in check. That didn't mean Mark didn't want to take things further, though... and he could feel those unsettling intentions.

Naitachel eyed Soraya with a slightly dismayed expression, trying not to reveal his discomfort so fully to this stranger. <You mean... we are stuck with this one?>

Mark shrugged and eyed them both lewdly. "When you're pretty enough, who cares? Guy or gal, I'm not biased if you're not," he drawled, smirking. "What can I say, I've a thing for princesses, and it's only nice to get 'acquainted'--eh?"

Prince wrote:"Indeed," a quiet baritone issued forth from the shadows behind them. "You may find that preferable to losing the limb."

That voice and words finally catching up to him, Mark froze, tensing, a guilty flush faintly touching his stubbled cheeks. Yeah, he recognized it well, as it had reprimanded and reminded him before. In fact, it was the sole reason he did keep himself in check--for the most part--at all. There was no escaping the owner if he got mad...

With a reluctant grimace, Mark sighed and straightened, lifting his arms off their shoulders... only to swing them behind for a sly slap to the rear as he moved away. "Now, now, I'm just teasing, you know. No rules against admiring the scenery, eh? Just against despoiling it."

Naitachel yelped and jumped aside, blushing warmly, hand going protectively to rub at the base of his tail. Still, to be unhanded was a relief. That aura was rather pervy, and distance always felt more comfortable then.

"The rules have changed," the voice said calmly. "If you are to 'admire' anyone else, it is to be from a distance. I will not waste time with another warning." He paused to let that sink in before adding, "It would be a shame for the community here to lose such a talented gardener, don't you think?"

Soraya yelped as her posterior was man-handled. "Hey!" she protested, about to sober him with a retort regarding handling a woman in a particular condition before she caught herself. "You... you...." she sputtered. Sadly the moment had already passed, and in her shock, she had lost the ability to form any other coherent, effective insult. Instead, all she managed was to cross her arms and glare at him, not that that was all that effective.

"Is there not a way to put some sort of shock collar on him for instances when he tries these things?" she grumbled indignantly, though it seemed the situation was already handled by more intimidating hands.

Mark made a face like a spoiled brat, grimacing at the idea of a shock collar, and whined, "Aw, c'mon, some of them are asking to be teased...! It's all harmless fun. Can't a guy have a little fun? I'm not the only one, you know--and I hardly do anything they don't...!"

In truth, he was probably the only one to dare to be so bold with the family itself, while others carefully kept any such teasing to colonists and staying only teasing at that, not with the sly intentions he had. He wasn't aware that his own intentions could be picked up by any of them, so he didn't understand why he should be "picked on" for it. But he certainly resolved to be a bit more circumspect about it, at least for a while...

Then again, only a suicidal man would nay-say Mircea. The man had no conscience. You kind of figured that out fast after seeing him defend the colony.

So Mark certainly resolved to be a bit more circumspect about it, at least for a while... if he remembered. He was more the type to react first, think later at times, especially with habits like these. But well, he would try for a while.

Naitachel flashed Mircea a welcoming smile. "Mircea... It is nice to see you," he offered politely. <Your timing is quite fortunate, and I thank you for it. Though... please do not frighten this one into soiling himself?> he teased with gentle amusement. <No harm was done, and none intended... He likes getting a "reaction" from others, I gather.>

<On the contrary,> Soraya butted in, <I think frightening him into soiling himself may be the only way to get him to stop. It would, one could hope, be a sobering experience for him.>

The redhead shook her head, ensuring she remained out of reach of the man in question. "Indeed, Mircea," she said aloud, "talk about a stroke of luck for us that you should happen along." She glanced meaningfully at Mark, suggesting he should take note that wherever he chose to do mischief, one of the family members was liable to be nearby.

Mircea stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. "I think, perhaps, you should learn to fear the shadows," he warned Mark. "You never know what may come forward from them, or what they might do if displeased." Slowly, he bared his fangs at the man, his eyes gleaming dangerously.

<Let us see if we cannot drive this message home, shall we?> Mircea suggested to Soraya and Nait as he did so.

Mark backed up a couple paces, and blanched as the fangs came out. Shifting uncomfortably, his eyes flicked from Soraya to Naitachel, then, clearly blaming them for his being caught like this--and with a shudder he grabbed his belt in an effort to help keep control of certain bodily functions.

"Hey, that's still not fair! I don't see why you're picking on me just because I appreciate something pretty!" he almost squeaked, his voice almost an octave higher than normal, in the defiance of someone trying to cover their fear. "Maybe you should stick signs on 'em saying not to play or folk'll get bit, eh? Or do you have feelings for one of 'em?"

Yeah, well, even he knew he went a bit far with that last question, and the gardener grew a shade paler, almost shrieking, "I gotta go--water the plants!" Then he was racing off as fast as his legs could carry him.


Naitachel's eyes widened, and he reached out in hopes of forestalling any pursuit by Mircea--he knew the man had a serious temper, and that false bravado could rile it easy enough. "Please... Mircea..."

<I believe the message shall hold for now... However, I doubt much it may last, as he does not seem to think using his head, and instincts do not answer to reason,> the kindly Seraph sighed. He knew that he and Soraya had made at least one enemy of sorts this way, witnessing the man's fear and humiliation at Mircea's hands.

The mother-to-be slumped against a nearby wall with a sigh as their assailant scampered away. "Well, let us hope the message holds for awhile, at least," she said. Though she knew it was selfish and felt somewhat guilty for it, she hoped that the threat would be effective long enough for her to being showing. She doubted he would make those sorts of advancements on an obviously pregnant woman.

"Thank you, Mircea. It was a good thing that you were nearby. I do not believe he would have harmed us," she said, "but I do believe he would have kept on for a good while, at the least, without your intervention. I am truly in no mood to deal with such antics today." Upon closer inspection, one would indeed be able to see that Soraya appeared a bit more gaunt than usual, and somewhat paler. It was obvious she wasn't feeling well.

"I think I am going to head back to the family area," she informed them, "if you still need assistance finding your way, Naitachel?"