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?

[oren]

[He is in fact, the most patient. When you spend most of your existence wrangling two hyperactive witches, waiting in total silence might actually be a blessing.

Oren gives Morgan a very angular nod.]

Hello.

[He lifts up one bag in his hand.]

Didn't come in without something to give in return.

[glassjar]

I can see that.

[Morgan strides forward to close the space between himself and Oren. There’s something coolly assessing about his look, though simultaneously wholly unaffected. Casual, even in tone.]

You certainly didn’t have to. But I suppose it’s only polite to come bearing gifts when one doesn’t call ahead before a visit.

[He takes the bag, but doesn’t peer in just yet.]

Oren, right?

[oren]

[The golem just looks at Morgan unblinkingly and gives another nod.]

Yes.

[Same brevity as before too. He does glance around after replying to Morgan before settling his gaze back on him.]

Interesting space. Your own pocket.

[Similar, but different from the Midnight Grind. The cafe is filled with Iona's warmth and magic, drawing in all sorts of visitors. Here, it is simply a residence, private as can be.]

[glassjar]

[A very private residence, so very rarely intruded upon. The house itself is a strange structure; a mansion, nearly, that seems old and rustic on the outside in a way that doesn't match the interior -- which appears far more modern, more open-spaced, than anyone would guess.]

Well. Not only do we need a place to work, but also a place to live. Away from prying eyes, someplace quiet. The others like it.

[No, there is no warmth in this little dimension. But there is a sense of something surreal, not quite magic, but rather an aura that feels like a springwell of energy, always churning. Flowing in interwoven streams, if someone had an eye to see it that way.

Morgan considers Oren again for a moment, bag in hand, then turns and gestures for him to follow.]

Don't hover in the doorway like a shade.

[Into the common area they go. It's roomy and there's plenty of seating. There's even a bar at the far end.]

[oren]

Others. I remember two of them.

[He follows with gliding steps taking note of every detail of the house; the flowing aura, the modern decor, and listening to Morgan talk about how it's a quiet place to work.

When they reach the common area, Oren doesn't immediately take a seat. He's always been the type of person to wait for the other person to sit so instead he holds out both bags to Morgan.]

For everyone.

[glassjar]

You haven’t met the other two.

[If he wants more details than that, Morgan doesn’t seem inclined to give them without being prompted. He takes the remaining bags with a slightly quirking brow.]

Of course. Gifts for everyone. How neighborly.

[He rustles them.]

Do I get to peek now?

[oren]

Go ahead.

[In one gift bag, the contents consist of several tins of high-grade ceremonial matcha powder, high-quality sweets, both western and eastern style stored in beautiful boxes, and a unique wine bottle full of a dark red. Its label is in a total non-Earth language and despite how tightly it is corked, a floral aroma emits from it.

In the other bag is... An urn. It's a very fancy urn! Oren explains before any questions can be asked.]

Since we broke the last one. No ashes inside. Type of incense instead.

Will help calm nerves.

[Well... It's thoughtful but it could be some weird roundabout joke from Oren of all people...]

[glassjar]

[Morgan quietly crosses over to… the bar counter, where he carefully takes out each item and places them in a line, one by one. The quiet consideration and delicate touch of a collector.

They’re nice items, each and every one. A few don’t even look as though they’re from this world, which is interesting in its own way — he appreciates that for what it is.

But then he unearths the urn, and… Ah. Morgan quirks a brow at Oren from where he stands.]

Heavens know we need that here.

[Calmed nerves. Jacob could use it. Amusement doesn’t quite strike at his core as hard as it should—nothing does, anymore—but he feels a shade of it.

He places it down, too, then goes around on the other side and leans his palms into the counter, looking over Oren.]

Of course, the last one you broke was a little more valuable than this, I assume. Because of the ashes. What a day that was — such a disappointment for my poor brother.

[oren]

[Oren remains silent, hands hanging by his sides, as Morgan examines the gifts only speaking at the last remark.]

It was also dangerous. Though probably more so because it broke.

[And well, they totally handled it and the day was saved! If Iona hadn't broken it, the outcome would probably be very different but that's neither here nor there.]

Brother would have a bigger headache handling that.

[Oren does a slow blink and finally seats himself at the counter.]

Anyway. Not much of an apology but decided to bring these. So there you go.

... Also have questions.

1/2

[glassjar]

It wouldn't have broken if a few certain someones didn't think it was a wise idea to steal it from us in the first place.

[You know, just casually throwing that out there.]

[glassjar]

But that's water under the bridge. And this is a nice gesture, so apology accepted.

[Though one might wonder if it was Morgan's job, and not his brother's, if he would be so forgiving.

Still, gathers up a glass and a bottle of something strong and amber. Pours in two fingers and offers it to Oren. Does the golem fancy himself a drinker? He wonders.]

Questions? What kind?

[oren]

[Before replying, the golem accepts the drink and takes a long unaffected sip. It's hard to tell if he even enjoys it or tastes it at all.]

Questions about your services. What you offer. How often. How far.

[glassjar]

[Well, he drinks. That's something. Morgan grabs himself a glass and does the same, looking up at Oren quizzically, though mildly, as he pours.]

Oh, you want to know about the business.

[Nosy, nosy.]

Looking to hire?

[oren]

[Let it be said that Oren and Berna haven't kept their hands clean over the years. It's hard to do when you're both centuries old and find yourselves making decisions either on the fly or with cold calculation.

In short, outside of being uncompromising over the well-being of his witches (or because of it), Oren is pragmatic.]

Possibly. In the future. Far or near, depends.

[glassjar]

[His brows raise as he takes a long pull from his glass. He poured himself a generous amount, of course.]

"Possibly". Hm.

[The liquid swirls in its glass as he idly swishes it about with gentle movements of the wrist.]

When you possibly have a job for us, then we can really talk details. But for now? I can give you the gist.

[The elevator pitch, in case Oren is only fishing, not actually shopping.]

We take jobs for those who prefer discretion. For those who don't want their predilections or motivations brought to light. You can imagine the type of work that entails -- it's messy and usually violent. Not always, of course. But why hire us, if you could do it, well, legitimately?

If you pay us enough, we consider it. It doesn't always have to be money, of course. Favors, connections, strange artifacts. [People.] We're flexible. And as for how often? As often as possible is the preference. Poor Thomas gets... fidgety, otherwise.

[oren]

Thomas.

[It's a questioning tone, but it sounds dull with his odd speech pattern. Otherwise, duly noted on everything else. Discretion is always appreciated, and always useful.]

I get the picture. For the most part.

[Oren drains the rest of his liquor and sets the glass on the counter decisively.]

Nothing on the table yet. [He has no job. Maybe... Maybe in the future? But Oren isn't sure about the lifespan of these individuals. They're very human to him, but so are witches who were essentially human-shaped.]

But I found my way here. Wanted to know a bit more. Think I got what I needed.

[The golem had sensed it a long time ago, but the reason why he and Iona— who for all intents and purposes was friendly to everyone— felt unease with Morgan was greed. Considering the work he and his group does it shouldn't have come as a surprise. And it isn't for him but there's greed for material goods and then...

He got what he came for. That should be enough.]

[glassjar]

Thomas. One of the two you didn’t meet. He’s a real firecracker.

[Morgan smiles, but offers nothing more. If Oren wonders, and wants answers, he has to ask — for instance, they age so, so slowly these days, but far be it from him to explain how or why. He’s not a mind-reader, after all.]

That’s it, then? If you ever have something on the table, I suppose you know where to find us.

[Because, yes, greed does drive them, to a certain degree. Greed for different things among each person, or a means to an end to fill some kind of void all the others but himself seem to feel. But that, of course, is definitely not offered freely.]

But you don’t have to leave so soon. Make yourself at home. Today’s a day off for everybody, and they’re sure to be taking advantage of it.

[oren]

[Oren shakes his head.]

No, thank you. Drink is enough.

I have work.

[Not cafe-related actually... He needs to clean the apartment, Iona made a mess in the kitchen again :(]

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

[glassjar]

[sir what]

You're a doctor on the DL.

You know that's not something worth really keeping a secret about, right? Unless you mean everyone's trying to get a free check-up from you. Or drugs, maybe.

[healbuff]

yes
exactly
right
that's IT
especially the drugs part

[Lucinda would be facepalming so hard right now at this conversation if she saw it. And if this were a face-to-face conversation, it'd be easy to tell that River was... Obfuscating? Yeah, that's it.]

anyway my advice, don't take payments in dates
very important life lesson