a walk with the storyteller

who: roy and jenny
where: the park
when: mid day

Roy was out wandering. And, like people had been predicting, he wasn't actually feeling all that great. He had a cough, a sore throat, and yeah, he was fairly certain he was getting a cold. Or had one. One of the two. After pausing to have another coughing fit, he started walking again, in the middle of a fever-flash. His body couldn't pick a temperature. It was either blazingly hot, or he had the shivers. All in all, it wasn't the most entertaining way to spend his day.

He wasn't really watching much where he was going, and only hopped back in time not to bump into someone who was in his path. Or more likely, who was on their own damn path, and he was the one who was out of order. "S'rry." he mumbled, half glancing up.

Bundled up in a heavy coat, Jenny kept her gloved hands securely in her pockets as she walked, hair down and covering the back of her neck. She'd been out walking for nearly an hour and was considering heading back to her apartment, but it was nice out and she hadn't been outside for a while. Might as well enjoy it while she could.

Abruptly she halted in mid step, jerking backwards to avoid crashing into the man who had accidentally wandered into her side of the path. Though she managed to avoid hitting him, she lost her balance and, with a strangled yelp, fell backwards onto the sidewalk. Startled, she blinked upwards, bracing herself up with her elbows. "Oh," she breathed in shock.

Roy blinked and looked up entirely, eyes going wide as he realized what he'd done, and he winced, immediately stepping closer to offer her a hand. "I'm so sorry." he told her, meaning it, instantly feeling terrible. "I wasn't paying attention, ma'am. You aren't hurt, are you?" he asked, hoping to hell she wasn't. Christ, he needed to be paying better attention than he was. Apparently, if he didn't, people could get hurt, and wasn't that a bad idea? It was. Shit. "I'm sorry, let me help you." he said, sort of flailing in general.

Still a little dazed, Jenny blinked up at the man then reached up and wrapped her hand around his, allowing him to pull her up. "It's okay," she quickly assured him and stepped back, dropping her hand to her side. She lifted her sleeve to check her elbow a moment later. The material hadn't torn, so her skin was intact, if a little red. "I'm fine," she said once she was finished, sliding her sleeve back into place, "I wasn't really paying attention, either." She offered him a small, hesitant smile. "What about you? You alright?"

He looked worried when she checked her elbow, and he was busy looking her over like he expected jutting bones and streams of arterial blood to be popping out at any given moment. Really though, she did look fine. He hadn't even actually touched the girl, she'd just hopped back from him when he'd done so so she'd fallen. Still, though, Roy was mortified, cheeks red from more than the cold, and generally he felt miserable over it. "I'm fine." he told her, brushing that off. "Are you sure you are, though? Is there anything I can get you? Do you want to sit down? I'm really sorry..." he continued.

Jenny waved off his concern just as easily as he waved off hers. Typically by now she'd be nervous with his excessive attention, but he brought out the slight maternal instinct in her. Hesitantly, she reached out and touched his arm, hoping to snap him out of his mild panic. "I'm fine," she said firmly and gently squeezed his arm. "But I think you need to sit down. You look like you're about to pass out." She looked around and spotted a bus bench. Without waiting for his acknowledgment, she led him over towards it, sitting down and making room for him to sit as well. "Here. Sit down and breathe."

Roy was going to protest, really he was, but then he sort of succumbed to a coughing fit as she led him over to the bench. He hated when people were right, but yeah. They had been. He shouldn't have spent his last day wandering around in the storm all bloody day. He did sit down, feeling a little out of breath from coughing. He looked up at her, expression sheepish at best. "Sorry, ma'am." he said, ducking his head a bit. "I'm fine. You don't need to--I'm sorry I interrupted you. I'm fine. You don't have to fuss." he told her.

Her eyes widened when he began to cough and she placed her hand over his back like Jackson did when she was sick, gently moving it in a soothing motion. "It's alright, just breathe," she told him. When he stopped, she placed her hands back into her pockets, warming them. Jenny smiled and shook her head, blonde hair swaying with the movement. "It's alright," she repeated. "I wasn't doing anything important." She paused, pursed her lips for a moment, then said, "I'm Jenny. You don't have to be so polite."

Roy hadn't really had anyone treat him like that since he was little. Maybe Marian did occasionally, when he was really sick, but she wasn't always around anymore when he was. So it was strange, to be comforted like that, especially by a stranger. Sure, she was a beautiful stranger, something that he'd really noticed right away, but hadn't been able to properly acknowledge in the midst of his flailing. Given a minute to do so, however, it was clear. As for when she said he didn't have to be so formal, in Roy's head, he did. He ducked his head again and looked up at her from there. "Sorry, I just...sorry Miss Jenny." he said. She was older than him, she deserved respect, in his head. He always treated people older than him with respect.

She bit her lip to hide her smile - he reminded her of one of the boys she had met while in the hospital some years ago. Painfully shy and polite. He had called her "Miss Jenny" back then too. If it wasn't for his age (the other boy had been a couple years older than her) she'd have mistaken them. "Calm down," she said, finally. "You don't have to keep apologizing. You're sick." She slipped off one of her gloves and held the back of her hand to the skin of his forehead. "Hmm... You have a fever. How long have you been sick..." She trailed off, realizing that she didn't know his name. She looked at him, an eyebrow raised in invitation to introduce himself.

He recognized that what he ought to be taking away from the experience wasn't that she had soft skin, and no one had touched his face like that in years. But that was kind of at the forefront of his mind, even if he knew it was wildly inappropriate. "I'm okay, it's just a cold." he told her. "...Roy. Roy Grady." he introduced himself, since she asked for his name. A lot of people didn't. he was just another street kid, just one more face to look around on a daily basis. He didn't get a whole lot of attention, definitely not undivided from a woman like her. He did reach up to cover his mouth as he coughed again. "Just today?" he suggested.

"Well, Mister Roy Grady," Jenny flashed him a smile as she said that, lowering her hand to her side, "you need to take care of this cold before it becomes something else. Once, I got pneumonia because I didn't tell my brother I wasn't feeling well, even though I'd only had the sniffles." She paused, frowning slightly at the memory. In true Jackson over-protection, she'd barely been allowed to leave her room until she was better. "You should go to the clinic... In fact, I could take you there now, if you want. I've nothing else to do today." Her smile faltered slightly and she ducked her head. "I'd worry if I didn't know you'd be okay."

You would? Was the first thing through Roy's head when she said she'd worry. He wasn't really that used to people worrying. Sure, Maddy probably did when it occurred to her, and he knew Marian did, but no one else, really. it also shouldn't have gave him a tiny little thrill that a woman like her might be concerned for him. It was muted, though, especially because she mentioned the clinic. Looking away, he shook his head. "I'm sure it'll go away, ma'am." he said, not even really realizing that he reverted already to 'ma'am'. he didn't mean it, it was automatic. Especially when distracted, which he was. Both from her presence at all, to her treatment of him and the now worrisome idea that he was going to have to explain to her that he didn't have anything near the money to get medical attention of any description.

Jenny pursed her lips at the reversion to the polite title, aware that she had stepped over some kind of line, though she didn't know what it was. "Alright," she said quietly, slipping her glove back on as she skin prickled with the chill. "If you won't go to the doctors, then at least make sure you drink lots of fluids and keep warm. At least, I think that's what you do for a cold..." She grinned a little, sheepish and embarrassed.

Roy didn't really know if that was what you did for a cold, but it sounded reasonable enough to him. "I'll try." he promised. Not that he really knew how well he'd be able to pull that off. He lived in an abandoned building. It wasn't the warmest place in the world. And drinking lots of fluids...he wasn't sure there either. Getting sick was one thing that most people like him were truly afraid of, really. Because a little sick could turn to a lot sick in no time, and people died from that. People died, and avoided you because they didn't want to catch it, and spread it like wildfire through the tunnels. It had happened before, he knew. He coughed some more, looking back up to her. "Don't worry about it, ma'am. I'm sure I'll be okay." And you probably won't remember me in ten minutes anyways, so it's fine. he thought.

She half moved towards him when he began to cough again, an alarmed expression on her face, but stopped when he did. Jenny summoned another smile, this one more concerned than she had wanted it to, but beggars couldn't be choosers. "Okay, I'll trust you," she murmured, then crossed her arms and adopted what she had (very quietly) dubbed the Jackson-Worried-Bitch-Face, the one her brother made when he was worried about her, but trying to be stern about something. "You'd best be healthy the next time I see you, Mister." Though in a city this size, no matter how she felt, she doubted she would see him again.

He gave her a little smile. "Sure." he said. he was of the opinion that he probably wouldn't see her again either, even if he was also of the opinion that that would be a damn shame. She was beautiful. And so far, he didn't even want to leave her presence. "I'll try to take care of myself. Promise." he added, trying to see if he could get her to smile. "I'll even start looking where I'm going." he tacked onto the end, coughing a little more, but he swallowed it down as much as he could.

Jenny gave a short, startled laugh at his final comment, grinning briefly at him. She settled back against the bench, surprised at how much she didn't want this conversation to end. Normally she hated talking to strangers, but she genuinely enjoyed Roy's company. Maybe it was his age - she didn't get along with many people her own age. "So," she turned back towards him, "if you're feeling up to it, wanna go for a walk?"

The request made him smile. It was bright and genuine for a moment, before he sort of caught himself, and ducked his head again, cheeks coloring a touch. "Yes ma'am, I'd like that." he told her. Sure, he'd go for a walk with a pretty lady. That sure as heck wasn't going to be a hardship. And he'd been out wandering aimlessly in the first place, so he could just wander wherever she was headed. He stood up, and offered his hand to her after hesitating for a second, not sure if it was appropriate or not.

Appropriate or not (she wasn't certain, either), Jenny accepted his aid, letting him pull her to her feet. It was at that point she realized she was the same height as him. She blinked, surprised for a moment before she began to walk in the direction she had been heading in - towards the park. "So, Roy," she paused, "do you mind if I call you Roy?" She asked him, looking a little concerned. She wasn't certain if she should call him by his name or not. People generally told her how to address them as.

"I don't mind." he told her. "Most people call me Grady, I guess. Except for a few. But at work, I'm pretty sure people just don't even know my name, unless it's 'that kid that fixes things' or 'Grady'. If that. So...yeah, you can call me Roy." he realized he'd kind of rambled there, and he hadn't meant to, and it embarrassed him. Hopefully she wouldn't think he was just some dumb kid now or something.

Oblivious, she nodded her head. "Alright, Roy. Tell me about yourself. What are your interests, your hobbies? What do you do for fun?" Abruptly, she blushed and looked away. "And if I'm being nosy, just tell me or ignore me. I'm having a bit of a good day and I like to talk on those." Of course, a "good day" to Jenny meant she wasn't living in suffocating anxiety and she enjoyed those, often rambling or listening to others ramble in an effort to keep her good mood.

Watching her out of the corner of his eye as they walked, he smiled a little. "I don't mind. I don't think anyone's really much asked me that." he told her. People didn't take an interest. Or at least, if they did, he wasn't aware. "Can't say it's exciting news, though. I don't really have what you'd call hobbies. Need money for that kinda thing. Unless you count fixing things for people. I like doin that. And...fun?" he shrugged one shoulder. "Don't have much of that either, I guess. I saw a play rehearsal the other day, I suppose. It was okay." He didn't mention that he'd only seen it because another street kid like him lived there.

"That sounds like fun," she commented, carefully maneuvering them through the side walks, narrowly avoiding bumping into passerbys. "Was it good? Me, I just read. Well, read and write. I work for The Echo, by the way. I write a couple fictional stories they print for children. Other than that and reading, I guess I just walk around... or spend time at the library. And that's pretty much all there is to me." Jenny shrugged her shoulders briefly. "I don't live too interesting a life."

Of course she read and wrote. And he would love to know what they were about, but he flat out didn't have the education to do that. Not really, not well. "Sounds interesting to me." he told her, a note of truth there in his voice. "Sounds nice." he added. Sounded stable. He could already tell that she wasn't a street person. It was in her all the way, from her look to the way she spoke but still. That confirmed it more for him. "What kinda stories do you write?" he asked her, still mostly paying attention to her as opposed to where they were headed. Even if he'd promised to watch where he was going better, that wasn't happening with her next to him.

She shrugged again, looking uncomfortable for the first time in their conversation. Try as she might, she'd never really gotten used to people asking about her stories. "Just, you know, stories for children. Fantasy stuff. Whatever I felt like writing that day, I guess. My editor chooses sometimes, but, well. That's only when I don't know what to write." She rocked a little on her heels as they stopped at an intersection, waiting for the cars to move.

Roy's eyes were still on her, though he was trying not to stare. He was trying not to be too obvious, too, but that was hard when you had your entire focus on one person. When everything else faded into the background. "Where do you get your ideas?" he asked. "That's got to be something, having...well. Stories in your head. And to put them down, too, that's..." He tried to find a better word, but couldn't come up with one. "Amazing." he finished quietly.

Jenny flashed him a small, shy grin and nodded her head. That's exactly what it was. Often times the stories, the ideas, that ran through her head would be the only thing she could think about. Sometimes, it would get so bad, though, that writing them down were the only way she could function. "Uh-huh," she said and pushed some of her hair away from her face, shivering against a sudden breeze. "As for ideas, I don't really know. They just come."

Roy automatically shifted his stance, to try and block the breeze when he saw her shiver. "Well, sounds amazing, ma'am." he told her. Made him wish he could read better. "Want to tell me a story?" he asked. Maybe if she just did it out loud, he could hear one. he wouldn't mind at all, even if it was a children's story. He liked the sound of her voice.

"Hm... Sure." She pulled her coat closer to her and bit her bottom lip thoughtfully, then launched into a tale surrounding magic, mystery and mayhem; spinning a world similar to their own, but under an oppressive monarchy that feared the magic of the people, having no magic of their own. She told him of a small group of people who fought to allow magic to be used freely. By the time she had finished, they had reached the park. Jenny ducked her head, embarrassed. "Well?"

Roy grinned at her, not having said a word as she told her story, not wanting to interrupt the narrative. "Never heard anything quite like that before. I really liked it. You should write that into a play, and give it to the theater. Bet that would be great to see up on stage." he said, thinking about the play he'd seen the other day and how it hadn't been what one would call his cup of tea. It had been well acted and everything, just not really his thing, story-wise. he liked Jenny's story, though.

Jenny shook her head, feeling her cheeks heat up. As much as she liked writing and having people read her things, she couldn't bear the thought of seeing them acted out. It seemed far too personal. Even her stories were written under an assumed name. "Thank you," she told him, in regards to his praise. "But I don't think I could do that. Too much effort, I think, and too many people. I'm not... not really a people person."

"No?" he asked. "You seem to be doin just fine with me." he told her. "I can understand it, though. I don't have a whole lot to do with a lot of people either. People kinda forget I'm there most of the time, to be honest. I don't think they mean to, like it's not to be mean, I'm just not important enough to be remembered." He shrugged one shoulder. "Got any family?" he asked.

[to be continued]