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

[lyrelyre]

[The "oooh" she lets out is utterly unsurprising. She takes them, turning the bag over in her fingers delicately, peeking at the cookies inside.]

Just for me? So I don't have to share with anyone?

[oren]

If you want.

[Oren's impression of Lyra, from the few times they met, doesn't seem negative if at all. He remembers the nature of her powers, at least somewhat, and had made his own conclusions.

She's made her own choices, he thinks, not all of them good. But she isn't of the bad sort.]

Will be going now.

[He bows his head politely at Lyra.]

Be well.

[lyrelyre]

Aw, leaving so soon?

[She'd be flattered, to think she's won such a high opinion (or at least higher than the rest) from him.]

See you later then, Oren. [She gives a little wave with her free hand.] Stop by more often, okay?

And thanks for the cookies!

[She's totally not sharing them.]

[oren]

Later than. Another time. Another place, most likely.

[And so Oren leaves, not promising anything, but not really dismissing her either. Something in his crystal and otherworldly soul couldn't be entirely cold, not even to Lyra who runs in Morgan's circle.]