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]

"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.]