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

[oren]

[Unlike Iona or even Berna who want to read the stories of the people in their lives, Oren doesn't pry open tightly closed books. And with such a cold and indifferent response, he can somewhat tell that there is a story that isn't his to even ask about.

And yet he wonders.

And for the creature housed inside this human-shaped shell, there is something akin to melancholy for this beguiling girl who takes this uncomfortable attention and uses it as power.

Oren just nods.]

Alright. [He takes a step back.]

Enjoy.

[lyrelyre]

[It's proof of how used to it she is; how she treats this constant attention like it barely registers on her radar. It used to be unwanted, but now it's just reality. No, more than that: it's a weapon to be used against others, her leg-up on life. Her usefulness in her group, empowering, giving her a sense of control that she had once lost.

But Oren doesn't ask, so she doesn't say. She just smiles at him gently.]

Okay. Thanks for the offer, anyway. It was sweet of you.