Dog of War

Camila awoke slowly and steadily, consciousness trickling in at an easy pace until she rose, weaving her form back together. Cording together vines to resemble the musculature of arms and legs. Smaller ones were used for the hands, with specially grown leaves covering them to make them even more plush. Large leaves pulled together in the shape of an evening dress, a blanket of moss to form hair. Flowers- largely orange, pink and white- formed a cloak, hiding the mass of vines that held her suite of Xenodrugs underneath. A few more flowers dotted along her waist in the appearance of a belt, and more in her hair. Finally, she pulled together a mask, emulating the key features of a Terran face. She spent a few moments practicing smiling, frowning, and other displays of Terran emotion. 

 

Satisfied, Camila retrieved her pad and checked the time. It was still rather early. The events of yesterday were still on her mind. The sudden arrival of the Terran ship, the poor Terrans that died, Beckett...

It was strange to remind herself that she had a Terran of her own to look after. Well. Not hers, but her responsibility for now.  This is going to be a rather full day , Camila thought to herself as she strided out of her room, it's best to get started .

She moved carefully, doing her best to remain silent. It was probably best to let the little one rest a while longer. She gave the living room a once over. Satisfied it was still clean, she moved into the bathroom. Ah, Beckett's clothes were still in a pile on the ground. Still bloody.

Camila picked each piece up, searching through them to make sure Beckett hadn't forgotten anything. Jacket was empty. Shirt had no pockets. The pants were also- no wait, there was something small and round in one of the pockets. She used a small vine to fish into the pocket and retrieve... A coin? How archaic, coinage hadn't been used by Terrans in centuries.

She turned it over a few times, examining it. On one side, the face of a male Terran with a faded date of 1971. On the other, an eagle gripping some sort of plantlife on what appeared Terra's moon. How curious. Terras weren't supposed to be allowed currency, but this was several hundred years out of date, and it likely held some personal significance. Camila stowed it away, weaving a small pouch for it inside her. She picked up the socks; empty, as expected. All of these clothes were severely stained. They would have to be decompiled, hopefully the little one wouldn't mind.

She examined the boots. There was some dried blood visible if you examined closely, but the material was dark. They could possibly be cleaned. Camila explored them, turning them over with a few vines momentarily. They seemed well worn, and well taken care of. As she was investigating the sole, there was a loud clatter. Looking for the source, she found a modest pocket knife. Beckett just had a knife the whole time? It was a good thing she had found it before anything serious happened.

After a brief check for any more surprises, she took a damp cloth and wiped off the dried blood. It came off shockingly easily. Camila decided to leave the boots alone, setting them next to the compiler. Beckett would likely not appreciate extended tampering. She took the other clothes and put them into the compiler's compartment, breaking them down into raw matter.

Since she was already in the kitchen, it was an opportune time to start the next thing on her docket- cooking breakfast. Camila pulled out her pad and searched through a few options. She felt determined to find something that would make his inexpressive face light up with joy. Beckett seemed to not be too into the meaty, savory lasagna from last night. Maybe something sweeter? Pancakes seemed like a good option, A memory of Daisy kicking her legs as her face scrunched in delight as Camila fed her pancakes warmed her core.

As  the ingredients compiled, Camila used several other vines to pull out cookware and start the stovetop. She deftly mixed the ingredients, producing a creamy, thick batter just as the pan finished heating up enough for the butter to melt. She carefully poured, delighting in the satisfying sizzle.

Camila was able to make three sizable pancakes in all, mostly uniform in size. That part still eluded her, sadly. Her eagerness to make sure each one was light, fluffy and perfectly golden always distracted from measuring the pours properly. She never had any complaints but it upset her nonetheless. She set utensils on the table with a serving dish of syrup, and the pancakes into the compiler to keep them warm and fresh. Satisfied, she left the kitchen and entered the guest room.

Beckett was still sleeping. The blanket he was using the previous night only covering half his torso, part of a leg peaking adorably peeking out. He looked so... Relaxed. Peaceful. The dozing Terran was extremely cute, honestly. She instinctively went to pet him before stopping, recalling the previous night. Beckett would probably not appreciate being woken in such a manner. Camila settled on the next best option.

"Morning little one, it's time to get to,"she called softly, letting a bit of biorythm come through her voice, hoping to give him a pleasant awakening.

 

Beckett immediately jumped straight to his feet, wide eyes snapping to meet her own. "Ah, yes," he sighed as his demeanor returned to the relaxed, stonelike mask she had come to know. "Good morning Miss Verdun."

Camila fought the urge to sweep the Terran up into her vines and comfort him. "Well... breakfast is ready. Also, you have some stuff that needs to get done today, which we can discuss while you eat, but are you feeling okay?" 

 

"Of course. I am merely used to waking up to my alarm." Beckett's biorythm was still that same eerie static, and no help reading him. He seemed to be fine, physically at least. Beckett dressed himself, quickly tugging on the pants and shirt from last night. "The dining room then?"

Camila smiled and motioned towards the door, following closely as they made their way. "I thought I'd cook breakfast today; it's pancakes." She said as she pulled them out of the compiler, placing them in front of Beckett's seat as he jumped up into the chair. "If you want some other toppings just ask, and I'll compile it."

"Syrup is fine, thank you," he said as he poured it over the pancakes. Camila watched expectantly as Beckett dug into them and took his first bite. He made an interested 'Hm', before chewing and swallowing. "You made this? It's good, thank you."

That's it? Camila had been hoping for... she didn't know what exactly. A bit of emotion would have been nice. Beckett did compliment it and thank her though, maybe that was as close he really got with his lacking emotions. She gave him another warm smile, hoping to defrost his icy heart. "Thank you little one, I'm glad you enjoy it."

"Of course," he paused to drink from a glass of milk she had laid out. "You said I had some matters I need to take care of?"

It seems like she was right- Beckett just wasn't one for outwardly displaying enjoyment. Or, well, anything else, apparently. "Ah, yes, you have an interview with Captain Flint after lunch. Until then, I have a pad for your personal use. You should try to familiarize yourself with it. I need to put a monitor on you. Finally one of my friends is coming over to visit. She's bringing her floret, thought it would be good for you to meet one in a controlled environment."

"Hmmm." Beckett pondered as he worked through more pancake, "What's this 'monitor'?"

"Well it's either a collar or a cuff," Camila retrieved the device from inside her, "and it basically helps me make sure you're doing fine emotionally and physically. It also lets me administer Xenodrugs."

Beckett eyed it cautiously, "I take this is non-negotiable?"

Camila nodded, "It's required for all ferals and those undergoing a trial wardship, until we can determine for certain that you are not a danger to yourself or others."

 

"Cuff it is then." Beckett tensely offered up his left hand, watching her carefully.

Camila wrapped it around his wrist, the device making a rather nice *click* as it locked into place. A discrete press of the hidden pairing function followed by a few inputs on her pad and she had a live feed of Beckett's state.

Strange...

The readings were fairly odd for a Terran- resting heart rate a bit low, the oxygen levels and brain activity quite high, and the emotion monitoring function seemed to be spinning in its tracks. Discord grew in her core as she analyzed the readings. They seemed rather stable, and Beckett seemed fine, but...

"Is something wrong?" Beckett asked, snapping her out of her contemplation.

"It's nothing, just, well, some of these readings are a bit odd." Camila tucked her pad away, "I'm afraid I'm not much of an expert on Terran physiology however. We'll have to make sure you get to the vet tomorrow just to make sure." 

Beckett paused for a moment before  contemplatively chewing the last of his breakfast. Swallowing, he spoke, "Well, I suppose that should be interesting. I don't think I've seen a medical professional in... quite some time."

Oh dear, who knew what ailments could be lurking unnoticed or ignored? Camila briefly considered letting Cordelia know she would have to cancel the afternoon's visit so she could take Beckett to the vet after the interview. He did say he felt fine however, and the readings were strange, but not malignant. Most of all she did want to see Daisy again. Waiting until tomorrow should be okay. "Yes I've heard the medical practices in the Accord were awfully exploitative, but don't worry, Mr. Aurelius only wants to make you as healthy as can be." 

 

Beckett only hummed in acknowledgement, finishing his breakfast. "You said you had something else for me?"

 

"Yes, a pad for your personal use," she smiled as she retrieved it from inside her, setting it in front of him, "You can access the Affini Extranet, find clothes, music, friends and all sorts of information with it. Be sure to add me once you pick a username! Mine is FrequencyFlower." 

"Thank you." Beckett said as he took the pad, "Did you want help cleaning up? You already did all the cooking and I'd hate to take advantage of your generosity Miss Verdun."

 

Aww, it was a rather adorable offer, but it was probably better to get the little one used to being taken care of. "It's no trouble at all cutie, I can tidy up faster on my own anyways."

"Very well," Beckett hopped down from the chair, "I'll be in the common area familiarizing myself with this," He held up the pad for emphasis, "if you need me."

 

Once again Camila had to restrain herself from petting him, "Of course, I'll be out in a moment." She smiled as Beckett nodded before leaving the kitchen. Turning her attention to the remnants of his breakfast she quickly swooped up all the dishes and utensils, placing them in the compiler and breaking them down into matter. Making a small towel she used it to wipe down the table with a cleaning agent before feeding that to the compiler as well. Satisfied that the kitchen was once again spotless, she followed Beckett out into the living room. 

 

He lay on the couch, nestled into one corner with the pad held above face as he swiped and tapped at it. It was the most comfortable she'd seen the Terran yet. How she wished to hold him in this state, to drug and shower with affec- no. No, she wasn't going to keep Beckett. She can't let these feelings take root. A *ding* from her pad let her know a message had come through, alerting Beckett to her presence as well.

He sat up as he turned to face her, sitting more properly now, "Ah, Miss Verdun, done already? I see why you asked me to leave, I doubt I could have helped expedite matters. That should be the friend request you asked me to send." 

 

Camila frowned, it seemed Beckett had got the wrong idea. "Dear I didn't ask you to leave cuz you would be in the way, I did it because taking care of you is far from a burden." She corrected, taking out her Tablet. She did in fact have a friend request, from one 'J.Beckett'. Not the most creative handle but it's not like that was a requirement she thought as she accepted the request.

"If you say so, but I don't exactly need to be taken care of." Beckett tapped the pad a few times, "You said I could find clothes on here? Where exactly do I do that?"

"Ah, here let me show you," Camila drew herself close and brought out her pad placing it in front of him, matching Beckett's screen. "Just tap here for the general extranet, and if you type in the kinds of clothes you like into the search," she put in an example search for men's shirts as she did so, "you can browse them and save them to your wardrobe, which you can find under 'my stuff' on the home page. From there you can send it to the compiler, so why not try to pick out an outfit for yourself today?" 

 

"I see..." Beckett murmured, "by the way, where are my belongings from yesterday? I need to clean my boots." 

"Actually I've been meaning to talk to you about that," She withdrew the knife and coin she had found earlier."Weapons are absolutely not permitted, and neither is currency."

Beckett looked up from the pad, setting it aside. "The knife is understandable I suppose, but the coin is almost six hundred years old. Terrans haven't even used coinage for over three hundred years. It does hold  value among collectors but it's importance to me is purely..." He paused, averting his gaze momentarily.  "Sentimental. I would appreciate it if you returned it, but if not it is a fairly historical item and should at least be preserved." 

 

Was Beckett embarrassed by his attachment to this small thing? That was positively adorable! "Okay little one, I will let you hold onto it for now." She placed the coin into his palm.

 

A slight smile crept into the corners of Beckett's mouth as he examined the coin, before sliding it into his pocket. "I still would like to know where my boots are." 

Camila made a mental note to ask about the coin later. "They're next to the compiler. I can fetch them for you if you want?" 

 

"No need, I'll grab them once I've selected some clothes for the day." Beckett said as he picked up the pad once again, "I should only be a couple of minutes." 

 

Camila moved back into the kitchen and pulled out her own pad. She opened a line with the Vet, asking about an appointment tomorrow and sending the information from the cuff. She was sure it was fine, but best to get a professional opinion. A few minutes passed before a response dinged through.

 

[PracticedVines]: Very interesting... Some of these levels are overly optimal whereas several neurochemicals are critically low or missing entirely. Can you bring the little one to see me first thing tomorrow morning?

[FrequencyFlower]: Of course. You don't think he's in danger, do you?

[PracticedVines]: Going off the limited data available, he reads as physically well as any floret. The neurochemistry is extremely odd, but not exactly dangerous. Tomorrow will be fine, though if an emergency develops don't hesitate to bring him in. 

[FrequencyFlower]: Of course, see you tomorrow.

A *ding* from the compiler caused Camila to look up just before Beckett entered the room. "Ah, did you find something already then?"

"Mhm," he assented, retrieving black cargo pants, a belt, a dark green jacket, undergarments and a slate grey cadet hat.

"Are you sure about those?" Camila asked, worried. 

Beckett looked up at her, confused. "Is there something wrong with them?" 

"Well it's just remarkably similar to what you were wearing on the ship. You can wear whatever you please. I can even make a suggestion if you wish." Camila offered. 

 

"If I can dress how I like, then I would like to wear this," Beckett stated matter of factly. He pressed a few things on his pad, compiling something else. Opening the compartment again he retrieved a few brushes, cloths, and a few small jars. He took them from the compiler and placed them into his boots. Holding his clothes under one arm with the pad in his hand, the boots in the other, he gave Camila a nod, "I'll be in the bathroom getting ready." 

Camila started following after him. Stopping in front of the door to the bathroom, Beckett sighed and turned to face her, one eyebrow raised, "While I'm not exactly shy about changing in front of you, I would appreciate a few minutes of privacy. You already have this on me," he held up his cuff, "and I shouldn't be more than fifteen minutes."

 

"Oh. Well..." Camila shifted nervously. Beckett probably needed to get used to a lack of privacy sooner rather than later. It was doubtful his owner would afford him any after prying out all his secrets. But perhaps she was overstepping just a tad. She remembered a Terran saying that felt relevant, something about boiling amphibians slowly? "Okay dear, but if you need anything I'll be just outside okay?"

"Will do." Beckett said as he stepped into the bathroom, the door closing behind him.

A minute passed, then another. Camila felt herself start to worry; what if the little one slipped? Or got hurt? What if he needed her? What if- She took out her pad and pulled up Beckett's vitals to assuage her growing fears. All normal, for Beckett at least. The sound of the door sliding open startled her out her relief. 

 

"Do you think I could get a razor? I need to shave." Beckett stated, examining himself in the mirror. He was showered, fully dressed not including shoes and his jacket rolled up to rest above his elbows. He scratched at the stubble that had grown overnight.

"I can do you one better; I'm capable of producing a sap that works as a depilatory. You won't have to shave anymore and the process is easily reversible if you decide you want a beard." She smiled, moving into the bathroom next to him.

"Hmmm," Beckett stroked his stubble for a few moments, "and it is reversible you say?" 

She started preparing the vine in question, somewhat excited to see the little one accepting her help so easily. "Yes of course, you only have to ask."

Beckett seemed to consider it for a short while, "Alright, sap me up then." He turned from the sink to face her, tilting his head up.

"Now hold still, and be patient." Camila gladly did so, using one vine to cradle his head and neck as she spread the sticky substance over the areas in question. She hoped his future owner didn't resent her for stealing such an important first from them, even if it was a fairly minor medical procedure. However, they would still have the joy of shaping him into a loving pet. She deserved to have this much at least, for bringing him in and watching him for a day.

Much to his credit, Beckett did exactly as asked. Motionless yet pliable in her vines as she slathered his face with sap. Not even attempting to utter a sound. It was then Camila felt something she didn't expect. This was likely one of her last moments with the Terran and that made her... Sad? Forlorn? Beckett really did seem to take instruction quite well. Despite his cold nature, he'd likely make a lovely floret with just a bit of effort. It's not like he wouldn't warm up with just the right cocktail of xenodrugs, a bit of hypnosis, the right suggestions, perhaps she could -

 

A tap on the vine hooked around Beckett's neck brought her attention back to reality. An inquisitive look on his face as he looked up at her. Stars, that was adorable. It also reminded her that it was a bit past time to remove the sap. "Sorry little one, I was..." Thinking about being your owner . "Lost in thought." She finished as she wiped away the sap, following with a damp towel. "There you go, all done."

Beckett rubbed his face again, turning to face the mirror, humming in approval. "That's rather nice, thank you." 

 

Camila felt the need to pet him surge as he admired her handiwork, that slight smile creeping back onto his face. It couldn't hurt to ask, could it? "Beckett, dear, do you... do you mind if I pet you?"

His smile gave way immediately as he placed a hand on the brim of his hat and stepped back from her. "I would prefer it if you didn't." Beckett leered up at her from under the brim, his stance now defensive.

She'd be lying if she claimed that the rejection wasn't a little painful. It was a bit much to hope for so soon perhaps. "Well, I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable, but don't hesitate to let me know if you change your mind, okay?

Beckett didn't answer as he bent over and picked up his boots, eyeing her cautiously all the while. "Mind if I get by you? I'd like to get these polished and shined if I'm meeting with the Captain."

 

It was unfair that she couldn't pet him without causing him distress. That he thought Captain Flint of all Affini would care if his boots were shiny or merely clean was absolutely adorable. "Of course dear, excuse me," she apologized as she stepped out of the bathroom, watching Beckett as he made his way towards the couch.

 

He sat down in front of it, resting his back on the foot of it as he set the boots next to him. Camila watched with interest as he removed a few rags, brushes, cloths, wipes and three small jars of differing polish and set them on his other side. Over the next forty minutes he used each item in procession on one of the boots, taking its dull reflective glow to an almost mirror-like surface. Beckett smiled as he admired his work- an actual genuine smile that made her vines writhe with need.

Camila tried to calm herself as Beckett set the boot down and began working on the other one. It was starting to grow hard to deny that she did in fact want to keep the little Terran. But he needed help. Help she wasn't sure if she could properly provide. She was bound to make a mistake and hurt him if she claimed him, and the last thing Beckett needed was more hurt. The scars that striped his body were a testament to that.

All she had to do was take him to the interview in a few hours and insist to the Captain he needed a more practiced vine. Beckett would get the owner he needed and she would be free to... What exactly? Try to get one of the Terrans that would wind up in the Class J cafes? Maybe Beckett's owner would let her visit him and she could arrange playdates with her own floret? 

Camila pushed the thoughts out of her mind. She was fine before, and she will be fine after. Beckett was finishing up on his other boot, taking a moment to re-examine it for any missed flaws, touching up a few spots. "What do you think? Not bad, eh?" Beckett said, turning the boot to the left and right as he smiled up at her.

 

This promise to not touch him without checking first was really starting to test her. She returned the smile, "Yes I'm sure the Captain will appreciate it." 

"Hmph." Beckett set the boot next to the other, gathering up the supplies he used. He walked into the kitchen and returned a few moments later, empty handed. He picked up the pad he had left on the floor and hopped up onto the couch, sitting himself against the corner. 

"You aren't going to wear them?" Camila asked.

Beckett didn't look up from the pad, "I wouldn't want to scuff them before the interview. Besides, it's a bit rude to wear boots inside. I'll put them on when we're about to head out. I was just going to familiarize myself with this until the time comes."

It was hard to remember he was a killer when he was so consistently polite and well behaved. "Okay, well, I'll be around. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

Beckett gave her a short salute, "Will do."