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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Chris' arms cross and his brow raises. "By herself?" Jon wasn't much of a hunter, but that still seemed less than ideal considering there were still monsters potentially about. Maybe things she could handle, but also some things that weren't wise for one person to face alone.

"If you want to learn to hunt...or fish for that matter, you'll have a better chance at it by being taught, not losing patience and going at it based on your 'fantasy' ideas."

"If she has Cookie with her I don't see too much of a problem," Wolfe adds upon not seeing his other dog around. He's immediately distracted by Patience, who comes over and snuffles around his feet, sneezes pointedly, and then steeps back to stare at him with intent. For a moment, Wolfe stares back quizzically, then glances at Jon.

"How long has she been gone?" Its not strange that she would go off and hunt. What is strange is that Jon said he wanted to talk to her while doing that and instead he's here. Alone. Well, not alone alone since Patience stayed behind. Maybe she left her intentionally to protect their friend being that he's new to actually hunting for his food in the wilderness and not in a grocery store. He can see Jon being particularly noisy and annoying her by scaring game away.

Is that what Patience is trying to tell him?

"Why'd she send you back?"

"Why do you think?" Jon lifts a brow as he sits on a nearby log and uses the cloak he'd left there to start drying his legs. His tone takes on the condescending ring of a man who thinks someone has asked a very foolish question. "I didn't realize I was meant to follow her around. As you can see, I don't seem to be any use at catching anything." A small gesture toward the water before he glances down and away.

"We split up... about an hour ago, I think? She has Cookie and Little Thunder with her. God only knows what they're going to bring back. Not more of those furbies, I hope." The memory of the dead ones is still rather haunting.

Chris looks from Jon, who looks away too quickly, to Patience, who has more intellect than some people he's met, and then moves to crouch down in front of his Archivist.

He reaches out to put a hand around one of Jon's calves while green eyes bore into his partner.

"I believe some of that...but you're deflecting. You're as good a liar as I am, Jonathan Sims. What aren't you saying?"

It's not until after Chris pins Jon with his gaze and puts him on the spot that Wolfe notices all the signs. Jon's closed body langauge, the way he gets snippy and tries to make them feel stupid for asking. And here Wolfe had been about to let it all go.

He still doesn't think anything too terrible happened. They probably just had a tuff and were both very put out over things. Amelia might have drawn a dagger with no real intention of using it, something Wolfe has told her before he thinks she should to work on curbing as an instinct with friends, but Jon being sour about that yet hiding that it happened would make sense.

"I'll go look for her," Wolfe says with a sigh, mostly just disappointed in general that he still needs to traipse around in soggy boots but Chris needs to recast the temple anyway. He'll have plenty of time to bring her back and chop wood for a fire before its even up.

He motions for Patience and ruffles around her neck. "Alright girl, let's find our rogue."

Shit! If Amelia tells Wolfe what actually happened, and Jon lies to Chris, that's going to cause problems. More problems than her contradicting him in front of them both, he thinks. At least he could deal with it in the moment, then.

"Wait." Jon purses his lips and doesn't quite meet Chris' eye as he looks up. "I... Leave her be for a bit longer. I talked to her about hearing her thoughts. I could tell it was unsettling her, so I just- I needed to do something by the lake, so I left her to her hunting to clear her head. And my own."

There's at least more truth in that. The details it brushes over could be chasms, but he hopes it's enough. "Sorry," he offers to Chris. "I'd been trying to make a connection with her. It... didn't work." For a great many reasons.

Jon still doesn't meet his eyes...but for the rest of the explanation, shame seems the culprit there. Considering how touchy Amelia could be about her weaknesses, even with those she loved and trusted, he could see how a fight might have broken out between them. He probably should have mentioned to Amelia that Jon could read minds under highly specific circumstances before now...but it had always been one of those things that 'wasn't his to tell.' Now that seemed silly.

His hold softens, and his fingers trail down Jon's leg as he tilts his head to try and catch his boyfriend's eye. "You don't need to apologize for trying...but I appreciate it. And the attempt. You both have plenty of time to find footing with each other...you're just very different in how you approach and handle things. Honestly, so long as you can have civil conversations and protect each other, that's all I need of you two."

Before Wolfe can go after the rogue and while Chris is reassuring Jon about what happened, noises can start to be heard at the edge of the trees. Soon after, Cookie comes bounding out and makes straight for her master with an excited bark around the badger in her mouth. She and Patience caught prey last night, but this is much bigger, clearly more impressive!

Little Thunder isn't far behind, calling out a soft Dreams! as she circles overhead before settling on Chris' shoulder. Her beak has flecks of blood on it, but she's otherwise clean. And looking for a comfortable place to roost with how she immediately starts to tug at the cleric's curls.

Amelia is last out of the woods, quiet, hands dirty and filled with everything the animals caught. As she gets closer, the group will be able to make out four rabbits, two voles, and a single binx. The rogue offers a tired smile in their before turning her attention to Wolfe where he's being accosted by his overeager dog.

"This should keep us for the day," she calls, approaching the mage. She lifts the morning's catch, held together on a length of leather string she had tucked away. "I'll leave the hard part of cooking to all of you if you have a knife you think is well-suited to skinning these. I admit I haven't done that in a long time, but I think I can manage." A beat. "Though someone best check my work after I'm done, for safety's sake."

She's already feeling like absolute hell; she doesn't need to make it worse by making them all sick.

Once Cookie has deposited the bloody badger into Wolfe's hands and received her due praise, Patience runs over and does the customary nose-in-tail dance of canines reunited. Wolfe smiles when Amelia comes into view and similarly strides to her side, though with a more human greeting of a kiss to her cheek if she'll let him. "Very nice, that should make a decent stew. I can take care of it."

It had been his job as a child to pluck, skin, or otherwise remove undesirable parts of their dinners. This is nostalgic in a way that he's not sure he wants at the moment, considering he'd technically never been the child he has in his memories, but what else is he supposed to feel? Better to focus on Amelia than his own exhausting mind.

Softly, just between them, Wolfe murmurs to her as he takes the game to prep. "I'm sorry Jon is such an ass sometimes. It's certainly made worse by his lack of real survival skills. We found him yelling at the fish in the lake to hold still so he could spear them."

Hopefully she finds that as funny as he did. It does give him the idea that maybe he should teach Jon to skin and prepare game. It's not hard, just time-consuming. And bloody, but he should probably be used to that by now.

Edited (words) 2025-10-22 03:59 (UTC)

Guilt twists in Jon’s gut at Chris’ kind reassurance. He’s so earnest, and with everything that’s happened, it’s nice to see the man can still manage that. Because he trusts his boyfriend. When he shouldn’t.

“We’ll need to work on the protecting each other,” he mutters as Amelia forestalls a manhunt with her appearance. “It’s still not my forte.” For so many reasons he’s not about to express. With the rogue’s return, the Archivist does shoot her a mildly uncertain glance. As long as she says nothing about the specifics, they can both get away with this.

“I’m glad you found something,” he calls to her before noting the ‘binx’ and trying not to cringe. Could they not catch anything except those creatures? The thought of it being served to him on a spit and speaking in its terrible, distorted voice, asking ‘why?’ Comes to him, and Jon tries to shove it down and away. “I, er… I know I was making a racket earlier. Glad it didn’t scare off everything.”

He can pretend at civility, if nothing else, and he does feel bad about turning on her as he had, even if he still feels justified for his side of their initial argument.

He might have had another word or two for Jon, but they’re lost in the return of the hunting party and a bloody beak streaking flecks in his hair. Bug bits and blood…he would definitely need to put a shower in the temple.

He shoos Thunder from her nesting attempts and stands. “I’ll make sure there’s more proper places for you and Poppet, be patient.”

Chris looks between his family, but then heads back to where the pile of things sits. “I’ll leave you all to it, I’m going to go ahead and recast the temple. It’ll be easier to cast again before we leave if I’ve already got the details down once. Stay out of too much trouble.”

Surely an hour wasn’t too much to ask. So saying, he sits cross-legged where he had the night before and begins imagining. More details. More needs to meet. More crevices and comforts for living a life and not just surviving a night.

Amelia huffs a soft laugh at the picture Wolfe describes for her. "I can't wait to see it the next time it happens." They'll be here long enough that Jon yelling at fish - or some other game - is all but guaranteed. Another small laugh falls from her lips as she returns the kiss to her cheek in kind. It gives her a moment to gather herself before fully looking at the Archivist for the first time since coming out of the tree line.

"That's one way you could phrase it." She offers it in a flat tone and with a shrug. "Between Cookie and Little Thunder we had no troubles hunting. They're both skilled at it, even if they haven't had real game to chase while they were in Duplicity."

Little Thunder makes an annoyed squawk as she returns to the rogue, immediately attempting to nest in her hair after the rude dislodging from Chris' shoulder. Amelia rolls her eyes fondly and offers the game in her hands to Wolfe. "I can keep you company while you take care of these. I'm apparently occupied for the time being." She chuckles and starts taking down her braid before the raven can destroy it all on her own. This means she should take another shower as well, but in truth... why bother? It's only a few flecks of blood and cleaning her hands and clothes will be more than easy enough in the lake or whatever basin their cleric sets up in the new temple. It's also familiar to simply leave it where it is when baths are more luxury than staple.

It's not familiar to her. It can't be, because those memories aren't--

She cuts the thought off suddenly with a harsh breath and a wipe of the back of her wrist over her forehead. Assuming there's a concerned look coming her way, she looks up at Wolfe with a wry smile. "My thoughts are trying to get away from me and I've no energy to deal with them right now. I'll take anything and everything to talk about while you work to keep my mind occupied." A beat, and she sighs. "Please."

Amelia requesting his help to get her mind off things isn't u heard of but it is rare enough that it gives him a brief pause, his fond smile turning a bit proud. Sometimes the best way to combat poor thinking is to just not think. He can bother her about what happened later.

"Alright. I can get to skinning these while we talk," he offers with another kiss for good measure. "Why don't you grab my notebook and start writing down things we'll need to get when we get to Ilinivur. I don't think we actually put pen to paper, tired as we were."

They can brainstorm while he does this and hopefully it will be distracting enough for a time. But first, Wolfe has to find a knife. LIEs had taken his when he was spirited off to their facility, which he's rather angry about. That was the knife Amelia gave him, dammit, and it was very cute with its feather motif. He's never going to find another like it. Luckily, he does find a couple blades in Chris' things that are long enough to do what he needs it for, though he opts for a plain one rather than the jewel-studded dagger that radiates magic.

Both dogs come and sit at attention nearby, waiting for their scraps as he starts to cut into Amelia's catch. "I think first thing is clothing. We're going to stand out like a whole hand of sore fingers otherwise."

Thank god, Amelia manages to just... act like everything is normal. He'd been a bit worried she'd give things away instantly. But she'd been crying earlier, so it only makes sense that she'd have that sort of look about her. And he'd already admitted to the others she'd been bothered by his mental prying. More by his commentary on the matter... It's close enough, though. The best lies so often do wrap themselves in the truth. He's learned that over the years of working for the Institute and in Duplicity.

Jon brushes Chris as he rises to leave and mentally castigates himself for taking that comfort where it's not deserved. He just huffs to himself to cover that and finishes putting on his boots.

"If you two are doing that, I'll... get a fire started." This, at least, he can do. Probably. They don't have any kerosene, but he's watched YouTube videos about how to light a fire from nothing before, and at least he has a lighter.

He walks over to where Chris is casting his spell and rifles through his bag, pulling it out. It's only as he does so that he realizes there's something... off. Jon had put that lighter into his pack and walked away from it. When was the last time he'd been without that lighter on his person in the past... 8 years? His brows furrow. He's never really thought very hard about how attached he is to it, given it's probably something from the Web, and-

"What are you?" he mutters to himself, staring at the thing, holding it up higher to scrutinize it.

Edited 2025-10-23 00:23 (UTC)

The rogue nods to her mage before stepping over to the lake to wash her hands. It's not the best job, but it'll do for now. That done, she's quick to find Wolfe's journal and sit next to him to begin taking notes. She takes extra care to keep her love letters and the 'love story' she wrote at Barbie's suggestion tucked into the front of it.

"Clothes first, then a map, more paper, and something to write with." Likely quills and ink jars? The exact 'what' matters little so long as they can continue to write. Her lips press into a thoughtful line. What else had they talked about last night? "Books for you and Jon, starting with the title Chris mentioned if that's possible. After that... tea, maybe coffee if we can find it, and spices for when you and Chris cook?" Spices can make or break a kitchen, or so she remembers her father saying many times over to their shop's customers.

Not... her father, but...

Jon's muttering pulls her from her thoughts with a soft inhale. She looks over at him, brow arched slightly. "What is what, exactly?"

"I think Chris meant to conjure the books into the temple this time but being able to read some outside of it would be good. Spices are a must, though. I'm glad not to starve but being able to actually season out food would be an improvement," he says that last patt low, not wanting to offend Chris. The meal last night and this morning had been dreadfully bland.

At Amelia calling over to Jon, Wolfe looks up from being elbow deep in entrails. "Isn't that your lighter?"

Jon glances over at the pair, sees the blood, and immediately refocuses in the lighter. “It is…” There’s a long pause. “I genuinely can’t remember the last time I thought about it in more than a passing way. I… this is going to sound strange, but I forget I have it sometimes, even when it’s on me. But I’ve never walked off without it. Not unless someone took my clothes or things away. I always take my lighter with me.”

The Archivist shakes his head. I’m fairly certain it’s cursed somehow. Why and how, I haven’t the faintest idea. I don’t know how a lighter you forget about would be frightening. Unless it’s… meant to be a fire hazard?” No, that doesn’t make sense. He hasn’t had issues with things combusting around him. “It looks like something from the Web, though. Why would someone give me this?”

"Perhaps they meant to send you a message of some sort." Not that she has any idea what that could be. She frowns thoughtfully. "What's 'the Web'? Something of the Earth you're from, I gather, but I've not heard of it before."

Oh what an education she's in for as all the horrible things from Jon's world become more relevant as she begins to spend more time with the Archivist.

"Its an eldritch fear thing, governing spiders and being used as a pawn in someone else's plan," Wolfe says before Jon can chime in. He's sure if he got it wrong his friend will correct him in excruciating detail, but at the risk of him going off and turning it into some kind of scary storytime, Wolfe had to speak up. But also he's pretty sure he got that right. Be proud of him, Jon. He listens.

"Maybe its part of some sort of nefarious plan to... I don't know, keep you smoking?"

"Yes, because lung cancer is clearly how they want me to die." Jon rolls his eyes. Wolfe provides a generally accurate account of the Web, but there's nuance, and the Archivist can rarely resist an opportunity to explain something. "The Web is one of 14 fear-based entities that inhabit the veil beyond my world. Well, 15... ish." He gestures broadly with the lighter. "They feed on terror, but different sorts. The Web is, as Wolfe says, the fear of manipulation and spiders. The specific format of those fears can vary, mind, and all of them are on a spectrum that bleeds into each other. Like... the Desolation is a fear of destruction. Fire is often very destructive, but it can also be financial ruin, or an earthquake coming along and wiping everything out. But then that last one edges toward the Vast, a fear of unstoppable, enormous things that you have no control over. Natural disasters often fall into its domain. But it could also be the Buried if someone is afraid that an earthquake is going to trap them in rubble, praying for someone to rescue them until they're crushed to death.

"My... abilities stem from one of these Dread Powers called the Eye or the Ceaseless Watcher. It deals with the fear of being known and seen." Jon clears his throat and focuses back on the lighter. "In-in any case, that won't be relevant for much longer. The lighter is something... I think Breekon and Hope delivered it. Christ, how could I not have seen...

"It'll be useful for lighting the fire. I think I might like to... discard it after that. God only knows what it's actually meant to do." Or has been doing. Is this why the spiders had been bringing him tapes now and again back home? Why he'd felt compelled to look in certain places?

The thorough explanation is appreciated, though it's a lot to take in all at once. There's going to be plenty to sort through with all of that information later, and Amelia knows herself well enough to know she's going to have so many questions to better understand it all. Even if Jon thinks it won't matter soon, it will still matter as it's part of what's made his life what it is.

"Discard it, or use it in trade? I'm certain someone with an interest in enchanted or cursed items would trade very useful favors or a large sum of gold for something that's both from another plane and holds magical mysteries." They could get so much from trading just one item that fits that description. Hells, it might even--

"What if it's something Mystra or her disciples would think a fair trade for an audience? There's little doubt they'll want something they find of value to even see us."

"Cursed or not, a lighter is still a clever device that a craftsman might want to reverse engineer and get famous on the 'invention' of," Wolfe adds, pulling out the last of the badgers organs and starting to cut off the outer layer of hide. "Chris said there's all kinds of clever craftsfolk in Zenethil.

"I'm not sure about plying a god's followers with a trinket though. I can't sense anything specifically magical about it unless its too faint to carry over here. But considering advanced enough technology becomes indistinguishable from magic, we might be able to talk them into it?" Its an idea, anyway, and not a bad one when they're at loss generally. "There could be something we could find in the Shadowfell too that might serve that purpose. I'm not sure. Either way, yes, it will be useful for lighting the fire until it runs out of fuel. There's a few basic survival things you should probably learn, Jon. I was going to suggest preparing food but you're looking squeamish so maybe fire building is a place to start."

The practical talk is nice, makes him feel like he's doing more than spinning his wheels and worrying.

Edited (phrasing) 2025-10-24 00:20 (UTC)

Amelia and Wolfe both make reasonable arguments for keeping the lighter, but Jon's paranoia demands some sort of action. What if the spiders find him here? Could he be inviting the Web into this reality with this? Or setting them up for a confrontation with some sort of spider god? Given Topher had told them their supernatural abilities are slipping away, is it the same for any 'magical' items they have with him.

That raises a major concern. Jon doesn't respond immediately, just crouches suddenly and paws through his bag again. He pulls out a tupperware container that draws the attention of the dogs almost immediately. "If we're trading anything, I'd rather it be Raymond Fielding's hand. I don't actually want to keep it. It just... seemed like a bad idea leaving it behind." His rib should be fine. There's nothing particularly supernatural about that apart from the nature of its removal. "A cursed body part has to be worth far more than a lighter."

There's plenty Amelia could offer to this conversation: other useful things Jon could learn, more reasons a cursed lighter is a good bargaining chip, even reassuring the Archivist that he's got plenty of 'uses' without being 'useful' in the way he's thinking of. Every last scrap of it vanishes after the tupperware container comes out.

"Jon, why the fuck do you have a hand of all things?!"

They'll get back to everything else in a bit. This demands some kind of explanation first.

"You brought that?" Wolfe sounds just as incredulous as Amelia does, turning a bit from where he's crouched to see what got both girls heading away from the treats he's serving up for them.

"Well. I guess you wouldn't want to leave it behind either. But I still don't understand why she gave you a fermented hand of all things. Your life is weird, Jon, and thats coming from me," he chuckles, going back to his careful skinning. He hasn't done this in a very long time so he has to actually pay attention. The muscle memory is coming back, at least.

"You could open something like a Archives here, you know, if you still wanted to catalogue horrific statements. You wouldn't have to worry about people getting added to your nightmare stable, either."

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17 Deception

24 Insight

15 insight /craicat

Deception 28

Insight, with advantage, 27

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cw: mention of cancer, natural diasters, death

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cw: preparing game and all the eviseration that entails

cw: disembodied hand and discussion thereof

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