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]

No, definitely not edible.

[It wiggles on the line. If taken off, by the mouth, it will still wiggle, but perhaps with less vigor. Its "gills" open and close, open and close.]

Me? I catch fish, but usually, I throw them back. Sometimes I'll catch other little nicknacks from old jobs, the ones that float closer to the surface. That's where some of our "less" valuable stuff goes, you know? Things the others won't miss.

[Floating around, near the top of the pond. It almost sounds like they use this place as a dumping ground??]

That's why you can take that with you. [She rests her chin on her palm again.] No one will care too much.

[oren]

[There's a thoughtfulness to Oren's gaze as he stares at the fish's scales. Something about the iridescent material seems to resonate with him internally. Almost. ]

Less valuable. So a different type of storage. Different way to hoard.

[lyrelyre]

[Could be a little strange, a little magical! Who knows. It's probably wiggling about on its own somehow, after all.]

Hey, don't look at me. [She raises both hands, palms outwards, in an innocent gesture.] I'm not the hoarder around here.

[oren]

Who hoards the most?

[It's a subtle way to ask, at least for Oren who has a good guess but would rather confirm with her. Lyra has been more upfront with him after all.]

[lyrelyre]

Oh, Morgan for sure.

[Like, that's not even a secret. She doesn't care about sharing her opinion on it; anyone here would have agreed. Morgan himself would have agreed.]

We have soooo much crap it's not even funny. "Resources". Bargaining chips. Leverage. All that kind of stuff, important to this sort of work. And then just some stuff we hold onto because it looks pretty, or might be useful in the future.

Like, you have no idea how much junk is in this pond. ...Not that your fish is junk. But you know what I mean.

[oren]

I see. Thank you. For telling.

[Oren uses a finger to tap the side of the flapping fish. A spark of his silvery magic as a result and it finally stills.]

Pond magic? No water damage?

[lyrelyre]

[She takes the rod back from him so he can have both hands free, magically stilled fish or otherwise.]

I guess?

[She scrunches her nose up as she says it.]

Well, no, not really. I don't think anything here is very magical unless we bring it back with us. Not like in a... casting spells kind of way. None of us can do that.

[She gestures around her. She has to speak vaguely, but a broad explanation should be fine.]

But this whole place doesn't go by the rules of normal reality. Things get weird. Sometimes they change, like a dream. Weird storage-pond included.

[oren]

Hm. Ever shifting.

[Oren falls quiet before saying:]

One more thing. For you.

[lyrelyre]

[Oh??]

For me? What is it?

[oren]

[He reaches into his pocket to produce a small bag of small green matcha shortbread cookies.]

Small gift. Made this morning.

[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.]