THE JARS THAT BLEED BEFORE THEY BREAK.

[glassjar]

Congrats! You've somehow stumbled upon the pocket dimension where five people with questionable morals (some more questionable than others) live and operate. Are you here on business? Do you have an appointment? Or are you here to see a friend? (Come on, don't make us laugh.)

Maybe you're here on accident due to some multiversal, magical, or otherwise supernatural nonsense? It's happened before, it was bound to happen again.

You can wander towards the house, see if anyone's home. Or you can explore the lush grounds, and maybe run across the wolfman groundskeeper who might try to usher you out towards the nearest portal, anyway. The world is your oyster, just try to be a good guest.

Comments

MORGAN KYLE.

[glassjar]

[You want to say hello to Morgan? Do you have an appointment? No?

Then don’t be silly.

He’s nowhere to be found if you don’t.

Though boldly trespassing inside the house, if you somehow manage it without running into any of the others first, might earn you some unwanted interest. If you’re lucky. Unlucky. Take your pick.]

visiting (read: scoping out)

[oren]

[It had been a long while since their last encounter. Oren, during a visit to Berna, had reported to her about Iona and Michael's encounter with Morgan and his group and how the golem particularly had a distaste for the man. How does the 500-year-old witch reply?

"Well? Are you going to see what he's all about or not? If you're going to look after my grandbaby properly, do your job properly and collect precise information, Oren!"

He didn't go about looking for their den purposefully. The farther he stayed away from them, the better it was for Iona. But fate and whatnot are weird as hell and Oren finds himself inside the house standing as still as a statue.

Hey, at least he brought gifts; two thick gift bags filled with something, but the golem isn't going to go any further than past the door. He can wait.]

[glassjar]

[Hope he doesn’t mind waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

In fact, it seems like he won’t be even greeted with any real expediency, at least not for a while. But if the golem is patient, eventually, footsteps sound from within the house, slow and unhurried; coming down from the stairwell inside.]

Now, is that who I sense it is?

[And here’s Morgan, greeting him in the foyer. He seems pleasant enough, a small, small smile on his face.]

I daresay it is. Color me surprised. How many years has it been?

tfln cont.

[glassjar]

(( ooc; from here ))

[Good lord. Thankfully, Morgan finds this more amusing than not… for now. And when he loses interest, it’s easy enough to just stop replying.]

People ply their influence wherever they can. That’s just how things are.

What services are we talking about, though?

[healbuff]

ok so I don't wanna give it away toooo much buuuuuuut
Just a doctor on the DL
So y'know not that out there

JACOB KYLE.

[ghostpranks]

[Jacob is a lot easier to find, though. He could be the first to greet you out on the yard, a skeptical look to his eyes. Suspicious, even. He’s tired, beleaguered — maybe they just came from a job, and he doesn’t have time to deal with newcomers who can’t bother to call first.

Or if you’re supposed to be here, he might try to be vaguely more polite, asking:]

So why is it you’re here, exactly?

[Only vaguely.

Otherwise? He’s having a drink in at the bar inside the house, first floor. Or he’s outside, tending to… a large patch of dead flowers?

Weird, but okay.]

some other evening

[nerine]

[Presumably, sometime after Oren's visit, everything is in its place and going through its usual routine. But blink once or twice and the door to the Midnight Grind will appear one late evening to welcome a past customer. Inside, it is surprisingly empty of anyone except for the lone barista behind the bar.

Monts, dressed in all black stands sifting some matcha powder through a sieve and into an elegant ceramic bowl. After pouring in a small amount of hot water, she gets lost in whisking the concoction, the sounds of the bamboo whisk echoing throughout the empty cafe. Even when the door opens, the young woman doesn't look up and just greets the customer as she focuses on the bright green froth of the tea.]

Good evening! Take a seat and I'll be right with you in a minute.

[ghostpranks]

[It’s that goddamned door again. The last time he saw it, it led to a cafe — which was nice. The not nice part? It also led to an awkward confrontation down the line, in the middle of “work” hours, and Jake doesn’t want to have to deal with that shit anymore. He knows better.

Or… he should.

He ends up stepping through the door again, anyway, against his better judgment. Because sometimes an escape is worth it. Sometimes he doesn’t want to think of their next job, lined up after they’ve barely had a breather from their last. Sometimes, he just wants some fucking caffeine.

So here is is. Jake sidles into a seat, looking over at Monts.]

Yeah, sure. [His eyes scan the cafe, curious but subdued, mostly.] …This place hasn’t changed.

for your entertainment

[gembonds]

[There's a rumor of an interesting little ceramics and jewelry shop that has popped up recently in the city. Art enthusiasts, craftsmen, and rich people who are looking for the next trendy aesthetic to prop themselves up have been talking. There are whispers about how the jewelry seems to uplift confidence and enhance their personal appearance. Another claim was that the dishes and mugs kept meals and drinks warm for hours at a time. The most outlandish one came from a college forum where one user said they wore a ring they bought from the shop and during their finals, their mind felt sharper than ever despite having stayed up for an all-nighter.

It sounds fantastical, silly even. But worth investigating, right?

The store is in the arts district but further away from the hustle and bustle of activity. Inside, customers are met with a colorful display of ceramicwares and in the smaller half of the shop, jewelry displays of mainly pendants, rings, and earrings. When one happens to visit in the early afternoon, the store is manned by... Oren?? No, not Oren. The young man looks similar though if a few years younger in apparent age and shorter, like a teen version of the golem. His hair is shorter as well and instead of silvery eyes, they're black like obsidian.

And unlike Oren, he smiles pleasantly, his voice inviting and polite.]

"Hello. Are you looking to purchase something or just looking?"

[ghostpranks]

[The rumor mill turns, as it always does, and in a business like this one, it's good to keep an ear to the ground. To learn what's worth investigating and what's all hot air, drummed up into exaggeration and nothing more. When rumor spread of a quaint little ceramics and jewelry shop, one whose properties seemed to grant little boons and gifts to the owner, it hinted towards something other. Magic, supernatural, a hoax? Hard to say, but worth nosing into, at least when there was not much else to do in-between jobs.

Jake and Morgan are the ones doing the investigating today, though Jake has an inkling his younger brother is just along for the ride because he likes the idea of sparkling things to look at — like a raven looking to bring something back to his nest. Probably not wrong, since Morgan is already drifting to a tall display of plates nearby to appreciate their make and color.

Jake, however, is approached by a young man that looks a lot like a certain golem, and he freezes in place, brow furrowing. What the actual hell?]

…Just browsing for now, but we’ll probably buy whatever catches our eye. Mostly, me and my brother are curious about this shop. We’ve heard a lot of good things about it.

/KOOL-AID MAN WALL GIF

[infusion]

Wow. And Grandma didn't shoot either of you in the head with a rock? That's character development.

[Another day, another grind. Another day at the Midnight Grind, that is! Iona is running the counter along with Oren in the back taking care of food today.

She hasn't met this customer in a while but Monts had offhandedly mentioned, "By the way, that guy whose job you ruined might be showing up more. Maybe."

Iona slides a strong iced cold brew with the airiest whipped cream on top across the counter.]

Soooooo. [Awkward isn't it? Being the person who broke an urn, released a swarm monster, making everyone spend the whole night to contain it. Surely, everything is a-okay!]

;asd help

[ghostpranks]

So.

[Yeah, not awkward at all.

But credit where it's due: Jake isn't as agitated about the whole thing as he used to be. He might have clashed with Iona's grandmother, but Iona herself is relatively harmless-seeming. Personality-wise, at least. (He remembers that arm.)

He heaves a sigh.]

It was just a friendly chat. There was no need to shoot anybody in the head.

[Well, Jake was rude-ish. But what else is new.]

LYRA.

[lyrelyre]

[At least Lyra has more manners, even if her smile is faint when you find her; likely somewhere near the pond, a fishing rod in hand, the line gently strung across the top of the water. She sits atop an old, gnarled tree that's long fallen over.]

The fish are biting today. But they're always biting, so sometimes I wonder: what's the fun in that?

[She laughs, and it's an ethereal sound, made to draw you in.

(Still, she's harmless enough. Probably.)]

If you're here to see the fireworks, you have to wait until it's nighttime.

[Her looks seems to ask: Are you even staying that long?]

After Morgan

[oren]

[Oren looks at Lyra, recognition flickering in his silvery eyes.]

Hello again.

[It's hard to tell the difference but his tone towards her is less curt than when he was talking to Morgan.]

May not stay that long.

[lyrelyre]

[There's something about her demeanor that shifts immediately upon recognization of the golem. Her eyes light up, and she smiles a little wider, dropping the nymphish, inexplicably beguiling persona.]

Oh! I remember you.

[He's hard to forget. Still, she leans in and rests her chin in a palm, her elbow pressed against a knee while she holds onto the fishing rod.]

Uhm, Oren, right?

diamonds are a girl's best friend

[infusion]

Welcome to the Midnight Grind!

[For Iona, the greeting is instinctive the moment she hears the door open. And just as instinctive is her looking over, eyes bright with anticipation at who she will lock gazes with.

She's standing on a ladder with a chalk marker. This time around the Grind employees will, in fact, attempt a set menu although customers are still allowed to order what they wished as long as the ingredients were available in the back.

Oren is standing below her, one hand around a ladder leg to keep it steady. He also looks over and immediately recognizes the new guest. For Iona, it takes a second and she pauses from writing ("Waffle Burger") to furrow her brow as she tries to file through her memory.]

Hm. Haven't we seen you before?

[lyrelyre]

[Lyra's all bright eyes and a smile when she walks in, removing her oval-shaped sunglasses and letting them rest atop her head as she glances around. Her eyes land, of course, on Iona and Oren first thing.]

Oh, hey there. Wow, Jake didn't bother mentioning how cute this place is.

[And to the golem, she waves:]

Hi Oren!

[Her smile stretches a little wider, and she eases a few steps more into the cafe proper. And then to Iona again, she addresses with a lilting voice, light and pleasant to listen to.]

You don't remember me? What if I said... "urn". Jog your memory?

THOMAS DURAND.

[spacecaser]

[A man named Thomas sways gently on his feet, reaching out to grab you delicately by the arm, smiling lazily and declaring:]

Dance with me.

[Or maybe he's just leaning up against a tree, cigarette hanging tiredly from his mouth one day, blood on his shirt, eyes dull.]

Boom, baby. [-he mutters to no one, and his eyes flicker a barely-there glow, and the tip of his cigarette lights glowing amber.

Or it's nighttime.

And his eyes are surging with a bright, unfettered glow, and he's spinning about in place in a clearing away from the house, tossing up huge swaths of colorful, heated energy straight into the sky. It burns into the atmosphere on the way up. One after the other, he lobs them into the bleakness of the night, and they explode in an impossibly intricate display of fireworks. Color, color everywhere. It almost turns night into day.

And he's just laughing, aimless and delighted the whole time.]

BOOM, BABY! Haha!

light show

[gembonds]

[Someone has been watching the light show for a while now.

The woman with voluminous dark hair has set up a chair for herself and each time light is tossed up into the sky, it reflects in her dark eyes. She wears a flattering dress with a long skirt that trails on the ground and she sits with her back straight enthralled with the sight that Thomas is displaying.

For the Crystalline Witch, Jacqueline Berna Oakes, the joy he has as he releases his power is akin to seeing a happy child. It brings up memories of Solomon and Iona, of them being actual children, chasing each other around with sparklers, and summer evenings full of dry heat.

When she arrived, no one would know but her. It was after Oren left (he'd have a hard time leaving her alone if he knew she had casually strolled into unfamiliar territory). This pocket was easier to step inside than she expected though it helped she purposefully concealed her presence until now.

Berna wants to try something.

In between each swath of energy, she holds out her palm and blows to create a steady stream of diamond dust. As Thomas's light fades, the glimmering dust follows to create an even more beautiful effect. The witch murmurs to herself:]

Hope that doesn't ruin his fun.

[spacecaser]

[Like a kid, delighted with a new toy — that, or a man chasing his high. The two do not have to be mutually exclusive, and with Thomas, the use of his powers encapsulates the feeling of both. It is a grand, grand release of all the energy that cycles back into him day in and day out, the sort that grants him his power and that awful, awful lucidity. Gone in a few minutes’ time with a dazzling light show every few nights.

It’s routine for those that live here. For years and years now, the sky is lit up vividly bright, and so few of them even care. Lyra is the only one who will watch, sometimes, from her spot near the pond, where his makeshift fireworks glisten across the water.

But that’s fine. As long as he can burn through his powers in a dizzying rush, that’s all that matters. If there’s not a job on hand, the sky will just have to do.]

Aah, it dazzles tonight—

[He remarks to no one in particular. He stops his spinning, looking up and grinning as a strange shimmer seems to trail behind each pop of color. Oh, no, that’s not his; he’s fairly certain it isn’t, anyway. Who, then? Who?

He spins on his heel. He sees no one in the darkness. Well, that’s fine.

He tosses up one more blast of energy, and it explodes in another shimmer. This time, the bright red crimson of a rose blossoming in the sky, made of light and energy. Will it shine and shimmer again? Whose talent is it?]

celebrate the night

[gembonds]

[After a couple of weeks, it's almost time to close up shop. Most of Berna's ceramics and jewelry have sold well with little inventory left over. Lillian and Emil would round up the numbers and calculate when they could open up again and where since they make it a practice to not sell in the same location in such a short duration of time.

Her work has caused more of a buzz than usual (thank you Internet) that a wealthy patron, pleased with his purchase and wanting one last appearance from her, has given the artist an invitation to a charity ball and auction. Berna is more than happy to attend and donate her final piece to the auction, a large ceramic bowl painted with flowers inside (It looks elegant but normal enough. Blink, and the flowers shift in circles like an optical illusion and the aroma of blossoms waft ever so subtly when in the room).

She gets to choose her plus one for the event and tonight, Berna arrives at the fancy venue dressed to the nines, like a spring breeze. It's head-turning due to her looks and height but few approach her since she is accompanied by a slightly taller young man with a darker complexion who is dressed just as sharply in his suit. His dreadlocks are tied loosely and gathered to the back of his head and his sculpted features also make others look at him specifically. Though Berna is all smiles and friendly gestures, Antoine's obsidian eyes carefully assess those who come up to her.

Antoine is also good at listening.

As the night wears on while the guests chat amongst themselves and network, making plans for their auction bids, Antoine, Berna's other golem whispers into her ear when they're finally alone at their table.]

"The security. They talk of being extra vigilant."

Hm? [Berna looks at Antoine, blinking.]

Is that anything really to take note of?

"I am uncertain. But I thought it would interest you."

[That makes Berna smile and she affectionately pats his back.]

And this is why I brought you along, Antoine. I can't have all the fun for myself.

[spacecaser]

[The security is extra vigilant for a reason, so vigilant that a man without an invite needs to find a way inside that isn’t the main door. For Thomas Durand, however, this is an old and simple talent of his, and with a bit of distraction and the art of easing himself into a crowd, he doesn’t even have to rely on slipping in through a window or a rooftop skylight. Easy as pie.

That part, at least. The rest will be tricky.

The auction itself hasn’t started yet, but the party is in full swing. Thomas’ power thrums beneath his skin, as it often does, unable as he is to let it go when he needs the clarity, the focus it provides him, critical for a job like this one. It’s a simple smash-and-grab (hopefully less smashing and just more grabbing), but he needs to be on his guard. The Jars, as he’s patronizingly begun to call their little group, have a history with the organization running the auction. Mainly, that they’ve stolen from them before on contract; just doing their usual business, of course, but it’s not like any of them would be ever welcome in their circles again because of it. Maybe one or two people died. It was probably fine.

This time, he’s not here for a contract, per se. But the approach would be the same, regardless.

The main crowd won’t recognize him, though. It’s the security, and those running the show, he needs to stay clear of. He exhales through his nose, straightens the tie of his suit. Right now, he needs to focus on scoping out the situation, though finding a way “backstage” would be ideal for now.

He scans the room. And he finds—

A familiar face. What is she doing here? Contrary to popular belief, Thomas very much remembers their meeting, though he remembers it in the way you recall a distant dream. And here? Here, she might be a distraction, and he needs to remain focused, doesn’t need to draw undue attention.

And yet.

A few moments later, and he approaches her (and her companion, it would seem?) from behind, piping up when he’s close enough.]

...Now here is a familiar sight, no?

la vien en or

[infusion]

[After the charity ball fiasco, Jacqueline Berna Oake's activity has gone very silent. This in of itself is not unusual. The Crystalline Witch is known for weaving in and out of public life and back to the privacy of her workshop, the location which she keeps top-secret. Not even her grandchildren are privy to its location. It would be hard to get in touch with her for a long time.

She did leave one last thing for Thomas Durand. In his pocket (most certainly appearing there magically), there is a card and a note written in thin script.]

"One use only — Berna"

[In the corner of the card, is a clear plastic square, and when one looks through it...]

Welcome to the Midnight Grind! I'm so sorry, I might have to close up soon but I'll get you a drink, sir!

[Superficially, Iona and Berna don't look all that similar. Iona is short and curvy, Berna is tall and graceful, swanlike even. Berna tends to look regal and flowerlike while Iona is more like a splash of color.

And it's a little hard to imagine Berna looking a little sweaty-faced and about to jump over the counter with a heavy backpack, but stopping halfway when greeting another person. Iona Jacqueline Oakes, however, does share her grandmother's radiance and smile.]

Oh man, you got me before I could get away! Haha! [Though she seems hurried, she's immediately shoving off her backpack.]

The first drink is free for newcomers! Got a preference?

[And she is very much a ball of out-of-control energy.]

RACHEL LIN.

[bloodhex]

[Rachel walks the perimeter of the grounds, seeking something out. Her expression is stolid, too serious to quite be neutral, but pretty darn close.

She stops when she sees you. Maybe she doesn't recognize your face, and that's something to be concerned about, but apparently, she has a bigger issue at hand.]

...You. Walk with me. I need your help.

[And she continues, trudging through the overgrowth beneath the copse of trees far beyond the main house. Do you follow?]

verse notes so i don't forget wheeze

[glassjar]

clicky

morgan:
leader, soul-sucker, "siphoner"
can remove souls from bodies, leaving the physical form an empty husk that will eventually waste away and die
can "read" souls in others, getting a hint of their histories, wishes, fears, power, etc etc. nothing super detailed, just a general vibe
hated his father, loved his mother - she died from a chronic illness i have not decided upon yet when he was a child
he ended up murdering his father with his powers. regrets nothing
lost a huge portion of his humanity after he removed his own soul in a bid to end his life just to upset his brother, but he didn't die and kept his soul in a jar instead
THIS MADE HIM A LOT MORE SOCIOPATHIC
immortal because of it; can only temporarily "die"; will either regenerate on the spot from less grievous wounds OR is spat out from the pond in the pocket dimension (buckass naked) if he dies in a more physically destructive way
bottom of the "pond" is where he keeps all his precious items from their jobs; also where he keeps all the souls he's stolen and stuffed into jars - he fashions them to look like crystalline flowers, a callback to his mother's garden
is secretly hoarding all of them to gather enough energy to tear a hole through all dimensions (this is unknown to all, including jacob)
collector, hoarder, makes a good drink at the bar in their house
keeps a polite and calm demeanor, but sometimes the mask slips. once said to everyone else, "you're just pretty glass jars, too, except you all bleed before you break." (thomas remembered that.)

jacob:
older half-brother to morgan, shares a dad
hated his dad, too, was never upset that morgan killed him
they were on their own after that, though, and he did his best to keep them both safe as they dove into shadier dealings with the magical and supernatural over the years
torn because he loves his brother but he doesn't know if he was made for this lifestyle
acts rude and tough guy (partly to make up for the above) but also is actually fairly level-headed. there is a nice guy under there somewhere
his powers are basically very very strong telekinesis, his soul able to extend as "tendrils" to wreck everything (think lucy a la elfen lied)
he was a late bloomer, though, and his soul powers only triggered after morgan nearly died on a job
the voice of reason within the group
tired all the time, or restless
secretly wonders if there is a way to forcibly give morgan his soul back and/or negate his powers completely
well-read, actually

thomas:
can generate hUGE amounts of energy
220 years old, thief from france
trapped in the pocket dimension for much of that time after a job gone wrong and a betrayal from a friend
"found" and freed by lyra
believes he has the soul of a star reborn into a human body, far too big for this form, and that makes him feel restless and a little delirious if he goes to long without discharging his energy/powers
once he does he falls asleep and then gives everyone around him nightmares*
(*because he is not the reborn soul of a star, but rather the reborn soul of a star-alien-creature that once resided in the far reaches of the galaxy,,)
rachel had to tattoo a dream catcher "hex" onto his arm with blood magic so that their nightmares would be redirected to thomas' arm and they could sleep at night
thomas can expel the nightmares and curse someone else with them - they fall asleep and, obviously, have terrible nightmares for a few hours straight
thanks to a cutting remark from morgan, thomas jokingly calls their group "The Jars" and it has, much to some of the group's chagrin, stuck

lyra:
***need to find a new pb for her***
escaped her abusive family life via the key to the pocket dimension
(need to fill in more background here, she probably murdered a family member and threw their body in the pond)
has a special bond with thomas because of it but like. only slightly.
she's much more willing to do shitty things than the rest of them, despite her seemingly easygoing demeanor; minus morgan, of course
siren of the group, has powers of persuasion that work on anyone that possesses a soul (so not morgan). these powers have their limits, though: she must remain in close proximity and she must remain focused
she has zero tolerance for people who treat her badly
stays with the jars because they keep her safe, fed, and they adhere to no rules other than their own
it girl energy, she and jacob argue a lot

rachel:
from a parallel dimension
comes from a deadly group of blood mages who practice their craft high in a snowy mountain; their headquarters is a large palace-like structure carved into said mountain
needless to say, the cold doesn't bother her anyway
her father leads the group; she is very talented with making curses and hexes (manipulating the concept of "luck" in general, but never focuses on the good lol) via drawing with blood, however she cannot actually perform any other spells at all. her father (and herself) finds this shameful
met morgan and jacob when the brothers visited her dimension after being hired by her group — she assisted them and morgan changed his payment requirements to enlist rachel instead
her dad said yes please take her, maybe under your guidance she will actually learn to unlock her full potential, and if so, then you must return her
rachel is not sure how to feel about this, bargained away like that
but she diligently follows orders because she is technically still under them
she tattooed thomas' arm to catch nightmares so they could all sleep at night by god

the pocket dimension:
home of the jars! the have a kinda-cozy kinda-creepy house there big enough for all them to live in. sometimes the rooms shift around, but not always
there is a big fishing pond next to it, lyra likes to fish there
there ARE fish in it, but it's very deep and at the very bottom is a chamber* where all their artifacts that morgan's collected over the years are kept (and his soul collection)
morgan is always revived via the pond if he is killed irreparably
the entire area is surrounded by a thick forest, where a creature they call "Gnaw" roams. they consider him both a guardian and a groundskeeper; takes the form of a wolfman on his good days
the truth is that the dimension itself is just the eternal dream of a long-dead old one (it's not jen verse without aliens)
(* yeah that chamber is just the giant skull of said old one sunken to the bottom of the pond, dead but still dreaming)