we travel far and wide

[dark_light]

It has been - a few days. There are long silent snuggles with Kas. There are tentative chats with Helen, which go encouragingly. There are difficult and uncomfortably revelatory conversations with her parents. There are heaps and heaps and heaps of things to catch up on, read, check, look into, so she can regroup, reappear, resume work.

She hasn't slept with Kas since coming home. She loves him, and she'll be feeling like it eventually, but not right away.

She's sort of restless after a few days of not having sex, though. Let's see. There's a couple new Jokers she hasn't tried, although one is not shaped in an Amariah-amenable way. And maybe that's a little too close to what she's waiting on, anyway.

Pattern's boyfriend isn't a Joker and is amenable to being loaned out, she has heard.

[Hey, Jane...]

Comments

[tearingup]

[Yeah, figured.]

Kisses kisses.

"I love you," he says, and kisses the end of her nose, and makes a wish. "Guess I should put some clothes on, too." Another wish. "All set. Jane, could you put me in Alethia?"

[bellfounding]

"Love you."

[mind_game]

[You want Amariah's palace in the land of the dead, or her basement in the daemon-having subworld?]

[tearingup]

[Daemon-having subworld, I guess, that'll be where I'm going anyway.]

[mind_game]

[Okay.]

Pop.

[dark_light]

Amariah's there already. "Hi. Am I joining you or are you going on your own?"

[tearingup]

"...Ooh." He considers this. "You could join me, if you want, but you might not want. Rayne's trouble."

[dark_light]

"What kind?" asks Path, out on her shoulder again, tilting his head. She's back in silks; he's got his talons around one of the twists of black.

[tearingup]

"Complicated kinds."

[dark_light]

"...Should I just ask Pat?"

[tearingup]

"You can. I'm not sure what she'll tell you."

[dark_light]

Amariah tilts her head, confers briefly with Pattern through Jane, and says, "I'll join you, if you don't mind, unless he's the going-to-tabloids sort? I don't mind minor rumor about the Second Coming of the Shade Dreamer, but firsthand reports to media outlets should wait."

[tearingup]

"He won't go to the tabloids unless there's something in it for him, and I don't think there wil be."

[dark_light]

"Okay then. Is this an uninvited teleportation situation or a brainphoning first situation or what? I will follow your lead."

[tearingup]

"Uninvited teleportation," he says. "Spying on him first to make sure I'm not interrupting anything important."

He does that. Rayne is at home, alone - even the flat is familiar, although not completely.

Poof.

[dark_light]

Amariah follows. Aura billows out around her - the witchiness blurs her age; she could be twenty, ninety, eight hundred. And she's definitely magical enough to make a custom afterlife. If anyone who sees her in full aura has previously been taken in by an impostor, this will put a stop to that.

[tearingup]

When she arrives, Rayne is in the middle of jumping to his feet in shock. His daemon - a skinny, leggy ginger cat with bright golden eyes - leaps into his arms, hissing.

He looks at Amariah very intently, for a moment, but his eyes are drawn irresistibly back to Ripper.

"Hi," says Ripper, smirking.

"What in Christ happened to you?" says Rayne. "And who's the witch?"

"Be nice," says Ripper, "she's a friend."

Rayne shakes his head slowly. His daemon climbs up to his shoulder and directs a look of deep suspicion at Amariah, then jumps lightly down to curl up in his armchair while he nods politely to the apparent mythic figure.

"Right," says Ripper. "Isabella Amariah, Ethan Rayne. And me - let's say I'm not the Ripper you know."

"I can tell," Rayne murmurs.

[dark_light]

Amariah chuckles softly. Path turns his head around and around, taking in the room.

[tearingup]

The room is small and messy and extremely lived-in.

"Where'd you come from?" says Rayne.

"Another universe," Ripper says cheerfully.

Rayne snorts. "Figures. And what are you doing here?"

"Visiting," says Ripper. "By the way, friendly word - if you're ever thinking of faking your own death, don't do it."

Rayne gives him a thoughtful look. Ripper shrugs.

"You are different," says Rayne. "And I'm, what, supposed to introduce you to the local?"

"That was the idea," Ripper agrees.

"Fine. He'll be back soon. Cup of tea in the meantime?"

"I'd love one," says Ripper. He sits down in one of the two chairs not currently occupied by a daemon.

[dark_light]

[Faking his death would have kind of different fallout here compared to Origin,] Amariah points out to Ripper, helping herself to the other chair.

[tearingup]

[Yeah. I just figured he should know why I'm not as close with him in my world.]

Rayne goes to put the kettle on. Rayne's daemon climbs onto the arm of Rayne's chair and perches there, tail flicking, peering at Amariah and Path.

[dark_light]

Path looks impassively at her. His do-not-touch aura doesn't apply to the cat, but the fact that he's on Amariah's shoulder is probably sufficient deterrent.

[tearingup]

The cat regards him steadily for a few more seconds, then turns and jumps to the arm of Ripper's chair and butts her head against his hand. He makes a startled sound, then pets her tentatively; she curls up in his lap and purrs.

[dark_light]

Amariah watches this. Path watches Rayne himself.

[pythbox]

Rayne is just coming out of the kitchen. He sits down in the chair his daemon just vacated and watches Path right back.