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

[gembonds]

[Berna hears the sound of branches disrupting the room within and Thomas's cursing. Lips pursed, she realizes that well. They're definitely dealing with something much more substantial within.

She sets up one of her crystals to create an invisible wall in the middle of the corridor to buy them some time, a speedbump to delay anyone trying to get in.

Meanwhile, the red crystal continues to blink as the plant Thomas just held grows into a dryad. There's a branch that tries to shoot toward him but the prism has created a shield and it bounces off unsuccessful.

Guess what her crystal can also do? Magic walkie-talkie. Berna's voice emits from the it.]

Thomas? It doesn't sound good back there. You're not hurt?

[spacecaser]

[Thankfully, dryads are not often aggressive in nature, even if this one is growing impossibly fast thanks to borrowing a fragment of Thomas' power. Its branches fan out, more and more and more, so fast that they could skewer a man if he stood in the wrong spot, at the wrong time.

One comes rather close, rushing past, but it glances off the shield that Berna's crystal has summoned in front of him. He hears her voice soon after as he steps back, then glances up at the ceiling to watch the tree strain, strain, strain against it.]

It's a giant tree now, Berna. This little potted plant was a dryad just waiting to grow, and I assure you, that bastard must have known-

[Morgan, of course. Already, his mind whirs. Every item is going to be crushed under the spreading girth of this delighted dryad, rent via branches or entwined via vines. He needs to get out before he's one of them.]

Time to go. [He starts climbing the tree, grabbing limbs, fingers dislodging blossoms, hefting himself up with surprising agility. If it's going to burst through the ceiling, then it can take him with it.] You need to do the same!

[gembonds]

Ah, I see. I'll meet you outside then.

[She won't waste time with more witty banter. The witch moves to the wall and Envisions an exit to the outside. The plain wall slides away just for her and then closes when she briskly steps out into the cool night air. No doubt the sound of the tree growing and fracturing the building will cause a fuss to say the least.]

I'm outside. Antoine will be touching base with us both.

[The golem has already shaken off most of the security guards who are now scrambling to make sense of what's going on in the storage room.

Thomas's red crystal buddy continues to hover over the thief, protecting him from the greedy plant life that can sense the source of light that's helping it grow. Every branch reaching for him gets slapped away by the invisible energy it produces hopefully making for a smooth exit as he ascends.]

[spacecaser]

[Yes, thank goodness for Berna's crystal. Every vine that tries to reach him is rebuffed, every branch reflecting off the magic's shielding. It's for the best, and less messy than the alternative, which would have been Thomas trying to burn each and every one of them away when they got too near.

After all, a dryad is just being a dryad. He would do what's necessary, but this is the better option, because as he clambers up, higher and higher, he passes by the area of the tree's drunk that bulges in the contours of a woman's form. The dryad smiles at him, eyes aglow, reaching out with one arm to gently press her hand against Thomas' shield. She is gentle, despite the wreckage she's unduly causing.]

Sorry, madam. Maybe next time.

[And so he swiftly climbs, until he reaches the top, where a hole in the ceiling gapes and reveals the night sky. Thomas leaps off, though he's stolen a little sprig on the way up, landing in a crouch as the dryad continues to grow behind him. Up, up, up.]

Tch! [Oh yes, he's sure this is all causing a fuss both within the auction and the room below. Is there anything left to be salvaged? Not that he cares, and he doubts it. He's sure that was the point.]

Fucking hell. [URGH. Thomas straightens, glancing behind him, then begins to move across the rooftop with a quiet step. He hisses in low tones.]

Berna? Still there?

[gembonds]

"Bonjour."

[Well, it's the next best thing, Antoine instead of Berna. The golem is lazily sitting on a tree branch nearby and waves to Thomas. Even though he had been working on dismantling the security, his straight collar and tie, and crisp sleeves don't seem to indicate that he had much trouble even after making his escape.

The red crystal reverts back to its original shining transparency. Antoine proceeds to move to the edge of the room where the branches have snaked downward and hold out his hand for Berna who takes hold of it as she ascends to the rooftop.]

Still here.

[Antoine keeps his creator steady as they find themselves flat ground to walk across on the roof. Berna doesn't look frazzled but she is frowning at the sight around them.]

Well.

[Some heist huh?]

[spacecaser]

[Some heist is right.

He whirls on his heel to see Antoine sitting amongst the tree branches, not a single wrinkle across his shirt, not a hair out of place. Of course. Thomas exhales wryly, and then there's Berna, who looks just as calm. He waits for them both to join him, closer to the edge of the roof. Far away enough to where no one will glance up through the gaping hole to spot them at just the right angle.

The two of them are calm, and he is relieved that they're unharmed, but. Oh, he's irritated.]

That was merde. A fucking shitshow! [He waggles the sprig he's clenching in one hand as he speaks.] Now I understand why I was sent here. To make a fool of anyone who had the gall to deny him.

[And, perhaps most scathingly, to make a fool of him. That's how Thomas feels, anyway, regardless of actual intention. His pride is wounded. He feels used, or like a joke. ]

That man, I could burn him to ashes.

[gembonds]

[Berna is giving Antoine a once over (to make sure there's not a scratch on him) before they both join Thomas at the edge of the roof. She says nothing, letting him voice his frustrations before she reaches over to touch the back of his hand.]

But you don't.

[Not a question. An observation. His reaction is interesting to Berna who only had the barest hint through Thomas that the people who work for Morgan may do so partly out of tolerance. What a reluctant team it is.]

So that's a way in which he works then.

[Taking a deep breath of night air, Berna looks around at the damage that has been caused. She'll stay behind so that she can blend in as a witless guest, pretending to be as confused as everyone else. Someone else can deal with the tree while she fixes some of the items. It would be a shame to leave those ruined including her own artwork.

She decides to show her support just to him rather than waste words of comfort on something she doesn't have the entire picture for.]

Would you like Antoine to help you find an exit point, Thomas? I'll stay here. Someone else will pick me up.

[Thanks Emil.]

[spacecaser]

[His breath gutters out when she touches the back of his hand. It isn't entirely enough to calm him, but he does lower his tone.

But you don't.

No, he doesn't.

Thomas also doesn't reply, setting his jaw. He feels like he really needs a smoke, now. Or a hard drink. Or another session to burn off his powers, which he might just do after he confronts Morgan about this fiasco back at the house.

He curses again, this time in French, as he places the little sprig inside his jacket pocket. Yes, even despite his frustrations, he is still bringing back what was required of him.]

...Thank you, but I will be fine. [What sort of sorry thief can't make his own exit from a nighttime rooftop? None that he would rub shoulders with.] I am sorry that the night had to end in this way. A ruin to your own evening.

[He knows she has to get back, to play dumb and definitely not complicit.]

[gembonds]

Thomas.

[She says his name again quietly and reaches up with one hand to graze his cheek with her fingertips and to look into his eyes. Her own tells him that she isn't bothered by a ruined evening. It implores him, asks him without saying aloud, "Are you okay? Will you really be fine? I want you to be."

But as to not be completely silent, she says with the reassurance of someone who can only have lived as long as her.]

I'll be seeing you again.

[spacecaser]

[Were he able to read that look in her eyes--and likely, he can--he'd not know how to answer. Right now, he is harried, and angry, and feels a fool. But later? Later he will be okay. Some baseline of "okay", at least, and life will drag on, day by day as it always does.

He tilts his head into her touch. But only for a moment. And that moment is gone in a whisper.]

Shall I be cliche and wish you au revior? [A beat, a strained pull of a corner of his lip.] Goodnight.

[And with that, he lingers for but a moment more, before he's turning to hop off the edge of the roof, eerie-quiet, and not to be seen for the rest of the night.]