makinglies | Respite

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faerun

Respite

The lake is dark and calm with a small breeze by the time they arrive at its shores. The stars above reflect perfectly in the still waters before them, and a small copse of trees lines one side, starting on their side of the river and jumping along the other side.

Chris takes a moment to re-prepare the spell he hadn't been able to cast in five years and gestures vaguely to the area around them as a suggestion for what the others can do. Gathering in the forest, sitting on a nearby over-turned log, it didn't matter to him. What he needed was an hour without interruption.

He settles down on the ground and presses his hands together as he closes his eyes to focus on the image in his mind. Within minutes, the white, shimmering outline of a large building forms in thin air. The gentle glow of its light barely spreads from the growing structure.

As promised, it takes the full hour before the slowly filling-in form is complete and finishes with a jaunty, echoing click.

Chris takes a breath, now sitting in front of the stoop that looks annoyingly like the one he'd passed earlier in the night, and gets back onto stiff legs as the glow fades away, leaving smooth, but otherwise unremarkable, white stone behind.

"Here we are. Home for the next however long we need. I'll start working on food and water next." Once they're inside, anyway, which is why he takes back his things from where he'd left them and leads them into the temple, marked only with the carving of ravens on the black wood of the double doors.

Inside is something just shy of opulence. The same polished white stone makes the walls, though black and gold veins course through the marble. The floor is the inverse, a black stone with white, shimmering speckles like a night sky if looked at for long enough. A single window faced East high up on the wall. The temple was alight with sconces at regular intervals along the walls, illuminating an open area that held all the offerings of comfort Chris could think of.

A large hot-springs-like bath, complete with a miniature waterfall, took up the left side of the room and ran into a smaller, similar bath at dog-height. Next to it, covered by a retractable screen, was a shower. Along the back wall, a raven's head emblazoned the white wall in black and watched out over a set of tables, chairs, and a couple of sofas. The majority of the center was clear for walking, but the right edge and right side of the room held a deeply inset pit of pillows, cushions, and blankets in various soft (black and purple) fabrics.

Finally, in the middle of the right-hand wall, there were two closed doors that, when inspected, revealed one room with a large, soft chair and rug, while the other room was made of nothing but stone with jars, pitchers, and plates on shelves along two walls and a cork wall perfect for catching daggers on the other side.

"I hope it works for everyone. I didn't...I didn't make separate bedrooms this time. I didn't figure we would need them tonight."

♥

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"I thought so, but I had to make sure. Old habits." Now alone on his side of the spring, Wolfe sinks down to his chin in the water. He's been alone for so long he doesn't like it despite all his family still in sight and proximity. Or mostly in sight. He'd have to get out to see Amelia now that she's retreated but he decides to give her her space. She needs it, he thinks. He hates that being alone with her thoughts on everything will probably make her break down but she needs that, too. They all do. He's just the first one to have cracked. He feels like a brittle shell but one that will strengthen with time instead of break. There's so much to mourn but still so much to look forward to as well.

He dunks himself underwater for a moment. When he comes back up he runs his hands back through his hair and then his beard. Both need a trim. It doesn't help the feeling of loneliness either. "I do wonder if maybe you're right, Jon. Not aphrodisiacs, or at least I hope not, but I still feel strange to be without some of the things from the city."

At that he tries to catch his reflection in the water, checking to see if his submissive tattoo is still there. It's hard to tell with how he's been moving around and making ripples though. "That's something we might want to address with each other privately; if there's anything we want to stop doing - or keep doing - that we only did in the city. Later, not tonight, but maybe put it on a list so we don't forget?"

He has this wild feeling that he's going to forget everything in the morning. Its unfounded, but still eats at him...

Amelia just... gets out, much like Chris had, and Jon immediately averts his gaze. What is it with people from all of their worlds not caring about nudity? He'd think it was just the city, but he'd known at least two of them when they'd first arrived, and he hadn't gotten the sense that they were particularly modest or discreet before their arrival in Duplicity, either. He does make an appreciative sound to Chris' thought of Poppet, though. While he'd brought some treats, it hadn't occurred to him that he might need to find some way to feed her past that. It would seem Chris does technically have that covered.

He can tell the cleric is growing weary, though, and while Amelia asks him more questions, Jon turns his attention resolutely to Wolfe, the one other person still in the water, instead of... hanging out for all the temple to see. Of course, that doesn't much help, either, when he brings up... things from the city. Jon feels his face flush with more than the warmth from the baths. It hadn't entirely escaped his thoughts, and he and Chris had jokingly discussed pet play when they came to Faerun. So many things are different, though, and there's still full on sex. He knows Chris just likes that and likes it with him, in particular.

Jon glances up at Chris with some uncertainty. That would be an awkward conversation, even if he knows Chris will respect anything he wants... or doesn't. And isn't sure if he wants.

"Yes, well... for another night, I think. Did you want to- ah... maybe we ought to get out. Did you need a towel or are you also planning to swan about sans pants?"

Edited 2025-10-05 00:18 (UTC)

“Not any sooner than sunset tomorrow. The temple lasts twenty-four hours like the food.” He shrugs. “If I remember right…it’s the cold months, so having the temple ready afore the sunset would be better. And…yes, good thought. A list of needs for the temple will help me remember next time.”

He vaguely hears Jon and Wolfe chatting, but leaves them to it in favor of trying to help Amelia. She was still tense, the water didn’t help.

“You know, one of those closed doors leads to a room where you can smash things. It’ll right itself when you leave and close the door. There’s a cork wall too…good for catching daggers.”

If it's going to be colder outside in the months to come, they're going to need new clothes sooner than not. Her linens are fine for Autumn, but not Winter unless she has other layers. Another thing to remember when they get to Illnivur. If the weather is cold, it'll be impossible to forget.

She's gathering mugs alongside the teapot when Chris approaches. A small, rueful smile tugs at her lips when he speaks. "You wanted to keep me inside for that, did you?" It would be a teasing statement if she didn't sound both relieved and frustrated. Everything gets difficult and of course they know she wants to throw her knives and scream until enough stress bleeds out that she can do something else she feels is productive or sleep. It's so easy to see that she's struggling that she can't be angry or upset about it. She's just... disappointed with herself. She can't even be angry that she's not how she was in Ragneux - good at hiding her emotions, at keeping everyone else comfortable and content while keeping her struggles locked away - when she was never there at all.

Why is it that every thought turns back to that? Why can't she just be happy that they're together and out of Duplicity? Relieved that they have Wolfe at the start of this?
Why is she so fucking weak after all this time away from their mage?

Exhaling slowly, she presses her hands to the table in front of her to steady herself. "I don't know what I need right now," she says softly, looking down at her hands. "I'm afraid of what happens if that's not it and I can't figure out what is. You're all trying so hard for me, even Jon, and I still can't..." Another, more tense exhale as she turns her back to the bath and looks up at the cleric.

"It's all too much, Chris. I was ready to be overwhelmed by a lot, but not what we have. Even if we have time and safety to deal with it, I don't know what happens on the other side. I'm terrified it'll mean I'm wrong and you'll all have to take care of me." By forcing her out. By putting her down. By needing to mess with her memories to make her stable enough for the lives they've committed to.

By needing to be taken care of without any chance of doing the same in return for the rest of her life.

"For your delicate sensibilities I'll cover up," Wolfe replies to Jon, smirking a bit but also glad to be able to show even that much respect for Jon's desires. He doesn't have to see anyone naked he doesn't want to, doesn't have to be percieved naked, and doesn't have to sleep with anyone he doesn't want to. No compulsions, no forced roles, no unwanted sexual dynamics. None of it. Consent is paramount and Wolfe is sure that will be the order among them for a very long time. "Avert your eyes if you don't want to be scandalized. Or jealous."

Wolfe winks, clearly joking, and waits until Jon's eyes are turned elsewhere to climb out of the spring and towel down with a blanket. Once damp instead of wet, he wraps the blanket around his waist. "Alright, its safe, though I don't have anything to sleep in so bare that in mind for later."

Puns seem like a good way to keep his and Jon's precariously decent spirits up while giving Chris and Amelia that cover to not feel awkward for a side conversation. Wolfe is also distracting himself, trying not to follow his instinct to go over and see what he can do to help. They can take care of each other too, and Amelia all but said she wants the opportunity to make up for not being able to while Wolfe was in captivity.

He looks over at Jon again, smile turning less teasing a more earnest. "I am grateful, Jon. If you hadn't Seen me I don't know what would have happened. You probably saved my life."

Jon does avert his eyes. As he rolls them and frowns into the middle distance. Why is he the only normal person here? Honestly. Regardless, once he hears Wolfe exiting the water, he waits a moment and then does the same, reaching for one of the blankets and wrapping it around himself immediately. His hair drips rather a lot, but that's something he knows he'll just have to deal with. Even if he were the sort of person to use a blow dryer, those don't exist here. Inconvenient, but manageable.

"And you saved all of ours by being there to find, I expect. We wouldn't have thought to go a different way apart from the doors they were taking us to if we hadn't needed to." He purses his lips, trying not to think about all the other people who'd gone before them. They'd not been so lucky. But maybe someone had heard the commotion they'd caused? Maybe someone else would ask questions. It's unlikely, but... maybe. "I'm glad we found you, though. And that you... were apparently in the process of saving yourself." It feels a bit like the Pit in that way, but Jon also keeps that to himself.

"I, uh... I mentioned this to Chris, but you'll want to be... careful around me. About what you went through. I don't have a way to fix things anymore if you give me a Statement." He shouldn't bring the mood down, but this is important. "I don't want to hurt you. Or Amelia." Chris, at least, still has his protection with Nate's magic.

At first, he thinks maybe he's misstepped with the room, that maybe it wasn't the right move after all. Then she explains more, and he lets the feeling go. That's not all of it...in fact, it's so much not all of it, that he feels he's missing something from her that should be obvious.

He reaches out and drags his fingers down her arm from her shoulder to her elbow, but then lets his fingers hover there by her arm until she indicates to him if more touch is helpful or not.

"If we need to take care of you until you can stand on your own feet again...then we'll do so." Simple as that. "Why wouldn't we do for you what I know you'd do for us? And, more immediately, if the room doesn't help, then we'll keep trying things until something does. None of us has the answer right now...and that's terrifying, but we'll manage like we always do."

His eyes search her face a long moment, and finally he cocks his head slightly. "Do you want to tell me what it is that's under your skin so deep you can't get it out of your mouth...or do you want to focus on making tea for now and tell me later?"

"After how much you took care of me when we lost Wolfe, it's not fair of me to put that on you. I did such stupid, terrible things in the name of making things easier and only made it all worse. I can't do that to you again." Not again... Not again.

Not yet.

Cautiously, she laces her fingers with his and drags her other hand across her brow to remove both sweat and water from her hair. "I don't know if I can get any of it out without completely falling apart again, and I don't--"

She can but she doesn't want to.

"I'm so scared of what's going to happen to everyone we left behind on top of what will happen to us. And I can't be when we have to get through the first few days and weeks and fully safe. I can't worry about myself or anyone but the three of you until I know you're all right." Yet her mind is screaming at her do so. To stop being so fucking weak and selfish and to pull herself together enough to help them. But she also knows she needs support and to let the others help and it's hard. Especially when she's so scared for them on top of being scared for herself.

All she wants is to be even the slightest bit fine so she can help them be fine. Her problems, her fears for herself, are nothing compared to what the rest of them are dealing with. Compared to what could do wrong for them here.

Her head tips forward to rest her forehead to his shoulder, eyes shut tight against the tears threatening to form. "I need to you all to be safe before I feel safe letting myself go, as stupid as I know that is, I can't stop myself from feeling that."

"Sort of," Wolfe chuckles a little. He did rescue himself, as it were, and there's something triumphant in that, but he's reasonably certain he wouldn't have been able to get out of the building. Not when he'd planned on hunting through every room of that place to find other LIErs and release them too. The mistake LIEs had made was unlocking their powers, something he's not sure was intentional or not and they would have realized their mistake quickly. They'd all been on borrowed time, which is why Wolfe had immediately abandoned his plan of rescue and gone to them. That and they're his family. He
can't live without them any longer. Wolfe suddenly feels poorly for having corrected Amelia earlier that she could have without him.

He nearly speaks all this aloud but Jon gives his warning and he thinks the better of it, recognizing that vague pull that's he's recognized means Jon is... hungry.

"I'll be careful, and we'll warn Amelia as well but we're going to have to find a more permanent solution for you soon. Any one person only has so many stories, Chris included, and I can't get a tattoo like his. I need to dream to keep my connection to the Fade." Which... he actually won't need for much longer, nor Jon his to the Eye for that matter, a fact which has a deeply thoughtful and troubled look blooming on his face.

"If we're going to be severed from the sources of our powers, though, it may not matter long term. We should probably work on being woven in sooner rather than later. I know you said you may go catatonic, and if my connection to the Fade is broken I might become Tranquil."

There's a surge of terror in him at that thought but he's ready for the overwhelming feeling to get it off his chest to Jon and clamps his mouth shut until it passes. He knows he only has his inherent mental resistance granted him by his magic to thank for not launching into a Statement right then with how much the prospect of being made Tranquil terrifies him. Instead he let's the feeling pass before explaining.

"Have I ever told you what Tranquility is?"

He tries to keep his focus on Wolfe. What the other man says is important, but Amelia’s internal turmoil continues to push itself into his head. It has the intermingled taste of the Spiral and the Stranger. Who is she if she is not who she thought? This other person who was her, is her.

Jon shakes his thoughts from her. The sudden burst of fear from Wolfe does help on that front. “Garret told me about Tranquility. And a friend Anders had that he, uh… well, that the Circle made Tranquil. It wasn’t a Statement, just… what it is. As I recall, he had some concerns about it happening to him when he first arrived in the city.” Thankfully, it hadn’t ever gone anywhere. They’d had other things to worry about.

“You think you’ll go Tranquil here, though? Our abilities seem to be restored in full. It more seems like the entity in Duplicity was throttling our connection to the source of them. Unless… was-” No, he doesn’t want to phrase this as a question, just to avoid any accidental compelling. “You may be… better informed, which you might indicate in the… simplest manner possible before explaining it all to Chris and Amelia. In detail.”

It will eat him apart inside to not have that story, but again, there’s a need for caution.

“We should see what happens when we sleep tonight as a starting point.”

He waits as she explains, listens to her fears and offers the barest touch to her collarbone.

“What happened before…that still…it’s not passed in me. Not yet. But how many times have we fucked I’m or been at each other’s throats and still showed up when needed? That hasn’t changed. I can still be here for you even if part of me’s still mad. What I keep hearing you come back to, love, is safety.”

He gestures between them and around them. “We are safe. For now, until we move on, I can guarantee we’re safe. Do you think I’d have us relaxing and standing around in nothing if we weren’t?”

He leans in to kiss the side of her head. “I put that wreck room inside here for the same reason. We’re not trapped here, none of you are bound to this place any longer than you want to, but within these walls, you cannot and will not be harmed. We can fall apart here as we need. As we will.”

It would come for all of them and probably more than once before they were ready to move on.

She's not ready for it. She trusts that they're safe in the temple, but what of everything outside? What of the shit that will come at them anyway, like Jon and Wolfe being cut off from those sources of their abilities? They're physically safe, but what about everything else?

Chris is trying, for all of them. She should be too. She should be stronger and better and all those things she always claimed to be. All those things the woman she was based on was good at. But she's not. Maybe she never was or isn't meant to be. She doesn't know and that's just another layer of terror laid across the top of all the rest.

"I hear you," she murmurs against his skin. He's right about their safety in this very moment and it... has to be enough. She has to make it enough, somehow.

With a loud sniffle and a wipe of her eyes, she steps back from him and forces a watery smile for him. A small one, one that doesn't last, so he knows she's trying. All she can ever do is try - and fail. "As we're safe here for a time, it's best I try to wear myself out enough that I can sleep. Maybe eat something, too, if we're lucky." She huffs a humorless laugh. "If I'm in there too long, have the tea without me. I don't know if I'll manage to put anything in my stomach after all this."

It's... not what she needs, screaming and throwing knives, but she still has no idea what would help. At least this is making an effort. That's better than ignoring it all and saying she's fine. Dreams, she wishes she had something more, though.

"Thank you, love. For all you've done for us. I can't express how grateful I am." This time her smile reaches her eyes and she adds to it with a soft kiss to his knuckles. "I'll make a proper mess of the cork wall before it rights itself, and I promise I'll handle my knives properly." That said, she leans up to press a soft kiss to his cheek before withdrawing completely. She feels like a terrible mess for not doing the one thing she promised she would, but it's... it'll be all right. It has to be, or she has to trust that it will be.

A handful of her knives are collected from the table, strapped to her over clothes that are now slightly damp from how soon she put them on after getting out of the bath, and then she disappears into the room Chris created for them to break every jar, pot, or other breakable object with her knives before she does her best to destroy the entire cork wall.

"I was concerned about that too, but the god of that place simulated our powers quite well, or at least I think that's how it worked, not throttling a legitimate connection. I'm not entirely sure, though, since what I did learn was gleaned just from overhearing and snooping between whatever they wanted to do with me." Cryptic, but honestly what they did with him was less traumatic than the things he endured in the city. Very basic being pumped with aphros and made to have sex, supposedly generating energy for this god of theirs. It wasn't pleasant, but it was probably among the tamest of things he'd done. Mostly what bothers him is they had him so full of drugs he doesn't remember anyone he slept with. Other than that, he was mostly strapped to monitors so they could gage... something? His energy levels? How much libido he had before he could be discarded? Fuck if he knew.

"But I think it was a simulation of power based on what it knew and our own belief, because if we truly were drawing power from our actual sources, I think at least you and Chris would have garnered a great deal more personal attention from yours upon the limits being lifted. Or at the very least our leaving the plane that was blocked against their presence."

Not to say they wouldn't be visited by their deities in their sleep... Gods could be patient, especially a Mistress of Death and a Ceaseless Watcher, he imagines. Fuck, they might have that to contend with. "You're right, we'll just have to see. But even if those connections are sound, I still intend to be writ into the weave. Fuck if I'm getting dragged back to Thedas for the next life even if I'm free of it in this one. If I have to be severed first, though..."

He swallows, then sets his jaw resolutely. "Then I'll deal with it until the Weave takes me in. I'm not leaving any of your sides again. Not even in death."

The thought of losing the Ceaseless Watcher remains... frightening. He's also not entirely sure that he believes Wolfe's suppositions. "I may have given the impression I'm more important to the Eye on an individual level than I actually am, Wolfe. I was only important because Elias made me that way. And he's the one at the center of the apocalypse in my world. I opened the door, he's the one... channeling it all? I was a tool, not the person wielding it. For when I'm from, anyway." He shakes his head slightly. "But you-you're right, too. We do need to be written into the weave of this place. Whatever is going on with us and our abilities.

"But whether or not we actually are is up to their goddess of magic, isn't it? Mystra. I'm not planning to leave any of you, either, whatever happens, but we should be prepared to need to make our case to her. Or figure out what sort of offering she'll need to grant the request."

Nothing is free. Even in this world of magic, Jon can't shake that mindset. If they're going to get something, it won't be for nothing, and he isn't keen to rely on only Chris' connections and whatever favors he might have. They don't know if the other version of himself might need to call upon those at some point.

He watches her watery smile, the determination to make this be something she does, whether it helps or not, he watches her dress and gather her knives to go into the room, and his chest aches. He believes her words for the most part, but it still feels like not enough. He should have been offering them the world, not desperate flailing. If he could be so good as they thought of him, he'd be able to manage that much, wouldn't he?

He blinks the tension from his eyes and moves to pull clothes from his pack. Right...all of maybe two useful outfits and two more Crucible outfits...he hadn't really planned for this either. At least he had pants.

He changes into fresh smallclothes and pulls on Jacob's hoodie before fishing out the flannel of Wolfe's he'd brought to throw onto the small pile for their mage. He sets about making the tea and tries hard not to listen in on Wolfe and Jon's conversation. At least until the water is in a pot, then he brings it over to Wolfe.

"If you'd be so kind to heat this, love, there's food and drink available for any who need or want. Amelia's gone to the stress room...which, as I told her, resets itself when you close the door, so no fears of making a mess if you need it."

Tasks. Focus. Once they were settled for the evening, he could turn to maybe working up the nerve to ask a few questions.

"You're full of tasty horror stories from a sexual hellscape. I think it could take special interest," Wolfe retorts, not thrilled at the supposition but Jon's not one for candy coating. "At least with Mystra it's more like to be some grand quest or gathering ritual bits to enact the process, isn't it?"

The last is directed at Chris, to whom Wolfe nods and takes the pot without preamble, using his limited fire magic to get the the water to a boil by holding the pot in one hand and a flame under it in the other.

"I think my... outburst earlier took whatever anger I still had down with it, but I'm glad its there regardless." Especially for Amelia. He hopes wrecking havoc in there will help with the turmoil he can tell is raging in her. Chris too looks like he could use a good fight or a good cry. Maybe both.

For all the horrors he's read about and seen, Jon can't actually recall many dealing with sex outside of that one about Prentiss, and that had been... incidental. He doesn't want to say the Eye has no interest in sexual horrors, but it doesn't seem to matter one way or the other. At least that's something he has in common with his patron: indifference.

"Hopefully, we won't be tranquil or... whatever might happen to me while being set on this quest." Jon wrinkles his nose. "Poor form, leaving it Chris and Amelia to pick up our pieces." He says this, knowing Chris is now listening in. He does shoot the cleric a glance.

"I don't suppose your gods are known for granting temporary boons in order to complete a quest?"

The rage room is noted and set aside. Destroying things isn't something he feels particularly inclined toward. Maybe that room with just the sofa, though. Amelia is still very loud, and he's getting unasked for snippets from elsewhere, as well.

Edited 2025-10-08 01:41 (UTC)

He nods vaguely to Wolfe’s question and sets the tea to steeping.

“It’ll likely be some trial or quest, something we have to do for her to receive her boon.” And then to Jon, he adds: “sometimes they might grant a sort of…forward payment. Depends on if she thinks it’s worth it. We’ll have to see. She often works for the sake of magic itself, so hopefully we can make a case for ourselves.”

He feels like he moves with little purpose as he haunts his way to a chair to wait for the tea to finish.

“Regardless, if you too…end up worse for ware, Amelia and I will take care of whatever we need to as quickly as possible, I promise.” He pauses and reaches for where his signet ring should be, but now only silvered skin lay under his absent touch.

“And if we’re really desperate, I know where else I could go for help.”

His- the guardians would listen to his plea. Even if he had to press his forehead to the dirt and beg, he’d do so to put his boys back to rights.

The way Chris is drifting back and forth is worrisome but to be expected and clarified by the lack of his signet ring. The white stretch of skin untouched by the sun where it had always been is more telling than anything else. Wolfe, knowing only half of what his love must be feeling, slides his hand around Chris' to give him something else to fidget with as he slips into a chair next to him.

"We're in good hands. Obviously we're going to try not to be burdens on you and Amelia, but even if we become so, it will only be temporary," Wolfe says with all the conviction he feels and far more besides that he desperately wants to. On its heels he plants firm a kiss to Chris' temple.

"Besides, if she wants whatever task she's going to put us to done, then she'll need to make sure we're in a shape to do it. We'll be alright." Squeezing Chris' fingers, Wolfe looks ip at Jon, inviting him to weigh in similarly.

Jon’s mind turns to Bane, which is not an avenue he wants to explore. He knows Chris has considered reaching out to that bastard before, and they don’t need to give him a reason to do so. “With luck, we’ll just be tied to our own world’s entities and… magic, until we get tied into the weave.”

He moves over to the others, but instead of sitting in a chair, Jon wraps himself tighter in his blanket and settles in the floor next to Chris’ leg. He leans his head there, resting against the his boyfriend. Getting dressed would wait for just a little while longer.

“Or at least we’ll be functional enough to help. Catatonia tends to happen when I’m disconnected from the Eye completely. I just might… if I start getting forgetful, we’ll know something is wrong with me.”

Wolfe's hand on his gives his fingers something to trace along: the callouses and lines and the familiar shape that the part of him that's still learning it doesn't need to grieve anymore clings to. The kiss, too, helps, and he offers a small smile in return.

If he could net them an audience with any particular god while in Ilnivur, maybe they could get an idea of not only how to contact Mystra, but how to best appeal to her and what she needed to get what they needed. Mystra possibly wouldn't weave them in without their soul threads being in hand on this plane...so at the least, they could start there. There were people out there who walked among the Planes all the time, how did they do this? Of course, how many of them sought to disconnect themselves from their homes?

Jon settles against his leg, and Chris's free hand moves out of habit to pet through Jon's hair.

"We'll keep an eye on each other. I...I intend to try reaching out to the Raven Queen tonight. I've a few questions for her. If she truly hasn't actually noticed me afore or if I'm not actually connected to her and our powers are doomed to start failing cause of our distance here, we should know soon enough." Hopefully, it would be good news.

He brings Wolfe's fingers up to kiss. "The tea'll likely be ready soon. Do you want to check on our rogue? She said to have it without her if need's be."

That's the second time that Chris has shoved him to Amelia with only a small exchange between themselves. He's certain it's more to do with Chris being just as worried for her as Wolfe is, but there's also a sense of being pushed away. Likely just due to Chris' general demeanor right now, focused on problems and potential solutions, not on the human element. Because if he did that, he might collapse, and he knows that's a little what Wolfe is after in the name of healing.

"I probably should, but Love..." Wolfe reaches over and tilts Chris' chin towards him, making sure they're looking into each others eyes. "After you've spoken with your God, I expect at least a little undivided attention."

Without waiting for an answer, Wolfe gives another kiss to Chris' lips as he rises from the table. "Pour me a cup when its ready, please. We could all use some tea."

With a reassuring squeeze to Chris' hand and a nod to Jon, Wolfe turns to go knock on the destruction room's door. "'Melia?"

Jon watches Wolfe head over to the rage room and then both of Chris' hands are on his head, fingers brushing, separating, pulling. He knows he's going to end up with a head covered in braids and just sighs quietly to himself. It's certainly not the worst option when he hadn't even though to pack a brush. Small necessities he'd been expecting to sort out in Faerun. At least he's brought a toothbrush.

"If you need me to be away so you can talk to him alone... I can just spend the night in that other room you have. The sofa looks comfortable."

It's quiet on the other side of the door, save a single soft grunt and an accompanying sigh. Silence stretches for a moment before Amelia calls back, "My knives are down. It's safe to come in."

Safe enough, anyway. Every single breakable object in the room has been smashed. Most where they were first conjured, a few against various walls. The floor is clean enough for moving around in bare feet thanks to the rogue pushing all the debris out of the way so she could move about. Amelia herself is unharmed, hair now loose and wetting her back as it drips. All of her knives save one, the enchanted dagger Wolfe gave her years ago, are embedded into the cork wall. When the door closes behind the mage, the room resets as promised, all the pieces of various objects magically disappearing from the floor and reappearing on the shelves and the cork on the wall reforming where it had been destroyed, save where her knives still stand out of it.

Wiped away as if nothing had ever happened. It makes sense and it is safer, but somehow it's... painful. She needed the mess.

Because she can't be one.

She turns around and offers a hand to him as she approaches. "I take it the tea is ready? I can't think of any other reason Chris would send you to me." It's an assumption on her part, but it seems a good one based on Chris' mood when he sent her off. Her lips press into a soft frown. "Is he all right? I wanted to give something back to him before abandoning making our tea, but... couldn't."

Chris starts with small braids, little things that would hold their own shape without ties to hold it for them. Once he had enough, he could use the one tie he'd brought...if Jon wanted, he should ask first. Later.

"I'll talk to him eventually, I know. I want to...I'm just not ready for him to press at me. Or to..." He sighs and redoes part of the braid he'd fumbled. "I'd...like to be able to hold you for part of the night, but I'll not fall apart if you would rather the space. So long as you're in here and safe, I promise not to be too overly attached."

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cw: mention of nonconsensual sex under the influence of drugs

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