Sabretooth belongs to Marvel, all others are of my own creation. Reviews and constructive criticism welcome.
Reviews and constructive criticism welcome.
Creed wasn't much for town life and kept mostly to his cabin on the outskirts of the quickly growing village. Unfortunately some things couldn't be avoided. He walked down Main Street, remembering when it actually was the only street in town. The general store was nearly obsolete next to the new grocer, pharmacy, and café. His saloon was now just a bar, and he had heard rumour that a store was setting up shop to sell appliances shortly.
He opened the door to the general store and a bell chimed happily over his head as he entered. Nick, the owner, a stout, wide man with a great bushy mustache and few words nodded to him and said 'good day Mister Creed'. They knew him, how could they not know him. He had lived in that same cabin for ten years now and every month or so, he would have to come down and interact with the people who grew up in Bashaw, Alberta.
He moved through the isles of the shop, skimming his eyes over the products that were unfamiliar to him, not finding what he wanted.
"What can I do fer ya t'day, sir?" Nick had enough sense in his head to treat Creed with an ounce of respect after his daughter had gone missing two years back. It was Creed who had found her out asleep in the orchard during the search party.
"Socks." He grunted in response, still looking about.
"Well we don't carry those, they're special order items. There's a girl in town who will make you a pair though. Girl, lady, whatever." The owner grabbed a scrap of paper by the register and scribbled down a name and an address then handed him the slip. "She don't got much work right now, bein' new and all."
Creed took the scrap from him and looked at it, rubbing his thumb over the writing, unable to make heads or tails of it. Nick watched him.
"It's down to the pharmacy an' turn right, " Nick pointed to Creed's right hand, "an' all th' way down th' street. She's stayin' in the hotel there. Ask fer a Ms. Rose."
He nodded but didn't say thank you. The bell tinkled on the way out and he had to squint against the sun. Streets were busier than they used to be. Creed inhaled then raised his chin up and began to stride down the sidewalk with Nick's directions in mind, hiding his uncertainty that he would find where he was going.
The hotel was new, he had noticed the construction last month, but now it was up and running. The woman at the counter was dressed in a long draped dress, much more elegant than this town was worth. She eyed him with a sour face, looking at his dirt covered boots and threadbare coat.
"What can I do for you, sir?" She asked, clearly not wanting to be helpful at all.
"Ms. Rose." His lip curled baring his fangs.
"Girl's no good. Already got miscreants dirtyin' up my hotel…" Only he could pick up on her muttering while she checked the room number on her boarder. "She's up in 3. Do us a favour, take off those boots before you go tromping upstairs?"
Creed went to take a seat to unlace his boots but the woman made shooing noises at him so he tried to balance himself while removing his footwear. He dropped them on the marble counter right in front of her with a smirk then ascended the stairs to find this trouble-making Ms. Rose.
He knocked on three and waited. He could hear shuffling and then the knob turned and a young woman with green eyes looked up at him through the crack. She had black hair pulled into a loose bun and was wearing a working dress and apron.
"Yes?" He could see fear sparking behind her eyes as they looked up at him.
"You Ms. Rose?" Creed took a step back and she opened the door wider so he could see the rest of her.
"That's me." She flattened her apron down and tried to pull the wrinkles out of her dress then looked back up at him with a small smile.
"I hear you make socks." They both looked down at the ones he was wearing currently, his clawed toes stuck through a few holes and his heels were completely worn through. He wiggled his toes then curled them up, trying to hide the claws. Ms. Rose didn't seem to notice them at all.
"I do. Would you like to come in?" Her voice was soft and sweet, much like her youth. Creed frowned and peeked inside.
"What for? That ain't proper." What was proper and what wasn't didn't really concern him much, he just didn't feel comfortable in the presence of other people, least of all a bonnie little thing like this girl.
"I need to measure your feet." They stared at each other for a heartbeat until Creed grunted and bent low to clear the doorframe, entering her room. Ms. Rose pointed to a wooden chest at the end of her bed and asked him to sit. The room was remiss of any signs that she had been living there for over a week save for her trunk. She kept everything tucked away, like at any moment she may have to flee in the night.
Creed obliged slowly, uncertain what he was doing in her company. She smelled feminine and delicate, not the sort of woman he was used to. She smiled apologetically as she kneeled awkwardly in front of him and pulled out a tape measure.
Despite his appearance, he tried to keep as clean as possible, whenever possible. Growing up in your own filth tended to do that to a person. His current socks, though worn through, had been washed the day before, and he had splashed around in the river that morning catching fish.
Ms. Rose measured once, twice, then picked up his foot by the big toe, minding the claws that protruded without batting an eyelash, and measured again. She was mumbling to herself and making marks on the measuring tape with a bit of pencil. She repeated this all on his other foot. They were both quiet while she did some simple math in her head and on fingers.
"It will be two dollars, does that sound fair?" She asked while still sitting in front of him on the floor. Creed could smell that she was anxious, and because it was only beginning now, he could tell it was because of her price.
"Too much." He grunted but waited for her to adjust the price instead of leaving, he really needed new socks.
"One seventy five?" Ms. Rose nibbled her bottom lip, her nervousness rose, not wanting to lose the sale. He caught himself staring at her mouth before coming back to his senses.
She smiled in relief and reached up her hand while bunching her skirts, out of fluster, Creed took her hand and helped her up off the floor though he remained sitting on her trunk.
"Lovely." She breathed, still beaming. "You can pay me when I'm finished."
The door to the bedroom had slowly swung closed of its own accord during their conversation but suddenly burst open with an angry woman glaring at them both.
"Oh no you don't! What do you think I'm runnin' here? A whorehouse? Get out! Get OUT!" The mistress from downstairs had been snooping and caught them both in the bedroom, though innocent enough the transaction. "Miss Rose, I mean you too – you ain't stayin' in my hotel any longer! No good, trouble-makin' harlot!"
In a flurry of shrieks and flailing arms, Creed found himself standing in the street with his boots in hand and a young miss in shock standing beside him next to a wooden trunk and an unwound tape measure falling from her fingers.
"What just happened?" Ms. Rose looked at him in a way that made him sad. Her eyes were wide in shock and they were glassing over with tears.
"You still gonna be able t'make me socks?" He grunted, a bit mentally disheveled himself from the flurry of being kicked out that couldn't have taken more than five minutes.
"Where am I going to live? I have no home." She was staring straight ahead and seeing nothing but panic.
"Lady, I really need some new socks."
"I don't think you understand my problem, I have no where to live." She sank onto her trunk as reality hit her. She started sniffling and then softly cried into her hands. Creed stood next to her uncomfortably.
He was not a gentleman in any respect, and had little use for a crying woman, or women in general to be blunt, but he really needed new socks and being unaware of any other option, it led him to then say, "I….got a cabin 'bout three miles out. Might have room fer you."
She looked at him horrified. "That's ridiculous! My reputation would be ruined, I wouldn't get work anywhere!" Immediately, Ms. Rose bit down on her tongue, seeing vehement anger cross his face at her reaction.
Creed frowned hard, feeling the sting of rejection, then swiftly turned on his heel and stalked off back home, leaving her to sit pathetically in the street by herself. She tried a few times to call after him to apologize, but he was lost down the street in the blink of an eye.