Owner Pose
Cael Becker     After the latest board is set into the stairway to heaven, the various participants lying on the warded warehouse floor wake up to more take out boxes provided by Phoebe - and a very patient pup who'se been keeping watch over the slumbering bodies.
    Cael arches her back as she starts to rouse, before sitting herself up and stretching, while Bear crawls towards her with tail wagging excitedly. She reaches out to scratch at the dog's shoulders, murmuring, "Who's a good boy? Yeah? Good boy, Bear," all while wearing a broad smile on her features.
    After all - their little adventure went rather well.
Jonathan Sims     Jon's still idly humming the melody to 'Drunk Space Pirate' as he wakes, the song with which he decided to regale Cael after her commentary about a closing number. Which is, of course, just 'Drunken Sailor' with space-themed lyrics. His hair's the same deep violet it was in the astral space, a thing he went off and did on a whim that morning. A toe dipped in the waters. Maybe next he'll buy some skirts?

    They stretch and frown thoughtfully as they get up to go grab the take out boxes and bring two over to Cael. "Hey," they say with a smile as they offer the food. "How're you feeling?"
Cael Becker     "I'm good," Cael answers Jon - flashing them a smile as she accepts the box. "It went well - ASIDE FROM THE SINGING," this is, naturally, a pointed aside towards a certain feline individual of their mutual acquaintance. Still, her expression as good natured as she pulls Jon down nto sit beside her, leaning in towards them to rest shoulder to shoulder. She feels... calm. Relaxed.
    "How 'bout you, hrm? You're good?"
Jonathan Sims     "You know... I rather liked the singing." Of course, Jon /would/. They sigh and lean in a bit toward Cael. "I hadn't expected that but... isn't that sort of the point? Showing that sometimes things go wrong and you sort of... roll with the punches?" He shrugs. "Michael seemed to get the point. He seems to be doubting, and that's the start. That's what we need."

    He frowns for a moment, glancing over at Cael. He'd noticed before, but hadn't had a chance to ask. But now he says, "...Cael, where's your amulet?" His tone is... quiet. Careful.
Cael Becker     Only a single chain rests around her neck - not the beautiful, opal thing she'd seemed to wear to the wedding. No, it's the same simple silver chain she's always worn, with the slightly scuffed and tarnished gear on it. "I suppose you're right. And as long as we're finally getting through to him - I suppose I can tolerate a few dance numbers."
    She opens her box, picking out some meat from her sandwich, and offering it to Bear for being such a good, patient boy and watching over them while they 'slept.' At Jon's question, she glances aside at them for a moment, but her gaze doesn't linger there too long. "It's in my gun safe, in the apartment," she offers before taking a bite of her sandwich.
Jonathan Sims     "Alright..." Jon says slowly, frowning. "But... /why/ is it in your gun safe?" His brow furrows. "Did... did something happen? Was it making you... I know you were worried about it controlling you. And... I don't think it was, but if something happened..."

    There's concern in that gaze, the same concern they showed earlier, in the Astral. Maybe that distraction and concern led them to being caught up in Terry's musical number? Well, no, that was mostly just an overdeveloped sense of the dramatic. But it might have contributed!
Cael Becker     "No," Cael says hastily. "Nothing like that, love," she promises, turning back towards Jon to plant a kiss gently at the corner of their lips. "It was just... Well. It wasn't about fighting today, was it? I- I've been thinking about the amulet a lot lately, especially after a conversation I had with Cap. He gave me some things to think about... And since we //weren't// supposed to fight, hardly seemed like a good idea to have the amulet adding its quiet urgings to my own already natural desire to punch Michael in his smug fucking face."
Jonathan Sims     Jon still frowns. "Alright. That... makes sense. I just..." They huff out a breath, and run a hand through their hair. "It would've been good if you'd /told/ me, Cael. I didn't know... if something was wrong."

    He sighs and kisses the top of Cael's head, then picks up the sandwich and says, "What sort of things have you been thinking about, then?" He takes a bite, peering at Cael.
Cael Becker     "...I didn't mean to worry you," Cael answers quietly. There's a genuinely contrite tone to have voice, as she turns to study Jon more closely, a hint of concern showing on her features as she tries to assess just how much she might have upset him. "I guess I'm just not used to having someone to share my thoughts with, yet. I- I'm rather used to being on my own."
    She takes another bite, giving her a moment to gather and organize her thoughts before she continues.
    "Cap made some comments about- well. Basically calling the amulet a crutch, to paraphrase his point. Said I'm strong enough to face Michael on my own two feet and that maybe- maybe if I didn't do that, on my own, well. That he might always have some sort of power over me. Got me thinking about whether I really need it at all anymore."
Jonathan Sims     Jon frowns thoughtfully. "I... suppose that makes sense. I hadn't thought of it, myself. I..." The frown deepens. "Perhaps I'm too dependent on that sort of power, myself." He sighs. "It hadn't occurred to me to... suggest you be rid of the thing, not until this is all over and done with. I worry, but you knew that."

    He looks down at his hands, one real and the other glowing emerald in the dim light of the warehouse. "I don't know if I could do that, myself. Well, not least because I /can't/ put my power aside, but... even if I could... I suppose the song I sang had a point. I /am/ the Archivist. That's how I face Michael. I can't really face him as 'just Jon' because... I can't /be/ 'just Jon.' Not anymore."

    They turn to regard Cael. "But for /you/... do you think you need it? If it came to a fight, in a week or two, when we wrap all this up... would you rather stand aside, or use a gun, than the amulet?"
Cael Becker     "It's part of who you are," Cael agrees. "But the amulet isn't part of who I am. It doesn't define me." She looks aside at Jon again, studying their features as she considers her response. It's a hard question to answer.
    "I'm not really sure - but I think I'd like to at least try standing on my own two feet again, and seeing how it goes. I don't need it. I'm pretty capable just on my own. It has been fun, though."
Jonathan Sims     Jon hesitates a moment, then reaches out to take Cael's hand with his left. "Do you want to go put it back, then?" They regard her seriously, dark eyes intent. "I'll support you in /whatever/ decision you make, love. But if you feel like you're ready to put it up... then maybe it's better that you do so, instead of leaving it in your gun safe."
Cael Becker     Cael squeezes Jon's hand, giving a grateful smile. They were always supportive - something she was endlessly appreciative of. Even when she may have inadvertantly caused them a little pain, once more.
    "I think I probably do - but I don't feel in a rush yet. I'm- I thought I'd live without it for a bit before I really make that decision. But no - I don't intend to keep it in my gun safe long term."
Jonathan Sims     Jon nods, and then adds, "I mean... in the astral plane, you can manifest just about anything you want, and you can fly if you like, so I suppose you don't really /need/ the amulet aside from the defense and healing it offers."

    He sighs. "Of course, that's the part that worries me the most. But I need to... to just... stop worrying so much, I know."

    A tilt of the head, a frown. "Do you... do you really think the Archive /defines/ me?" Hastily, they add, "I mean, I never thought the amulet defined /you/. It's an... aid, to something you already do. Fighting for what's right, protecting people. But I suppose I'm still wrapping my head around..." Another furrowing of the brow.
Cael Becker     "Easier said than done. Worries and fears don't just turn off because we want them to," Cael remarks wryly. "I mean - being able to heal more quickly has been rather handy, I just- you know how I am. I really don't like anything having power or influence over me. It makes me uneasy. And I think the time I needed that added strength to stand on my own has definitely passed." She squeezes Jon's hand again, then lifts it to her lips for a kiss.
    "Maybe 'it defines you' isn't the most accurate way to put it. But it's part of the definition of 'who is Jonathan Sims.' You know? And it can't ever be extricated from who you are. You're Jon. You're a Doctor, and a musician. You're patient, loving, and supportive. You're strong, and courageous, and smarter than I'll ever be. And you're the Archivist, and the Avatar of Ma'at, and if you leave those two things off... Then I'm leaving of part of who you are."
Jonathan Sims     Jon rolls his eyes. "I don't know about 'smarter than you'll ever be.' I do some pretty stupid things." He smiles, and then leans in to return Cael's kiss. "But I know what you mean. I didn't really... until I really /thought/ about what life might be like without the Archive... I mean, even before I knew it existed, I was being primed to be its caretaker. I think I'm mostly done resenting that, but it's still... odd."

    Then they chuckle. "And /you/ would not be you if you weren't skeptical and questioning and determined to not let anything unduly influence you. Even love, even family." They grins, clearly teasing. "But that's you. It just... it's part of you. That fierce determination to forge your own destiny, whatever happens. And it's infuriating and frustrating and terrifying, but it's who you are, and I wouldn't change you for anything."
Cael Becker     As Jon leans in to kiss her, rather than simply letting her kiss their hand, she returns it - a long, gentle, lingering kiss that she ends by resting her forehead against theirs, content with their closeness - with that familiarity and comfort. "I don't mean to infuriate or frighten you. I really should have told you what I was thinking. I'm sorry, Jon," she murmurs, holding their hand to her chest as she talks.
    "Maybe someday I'll get used to the idea that I'm not alone anymore."
Jonathan Sims     "It's alright. I forgive you. It's not... it's just very different from me. I'm quite capable of letting something or someone else guide my path--that's what being an Avatar /means/. That's been a danger in my life, in a lot of ways. It's terribly easy for me to just give up the illusion that I have any control over my life and go where I'm led." Jon sighs. "Not forever, not if it's bad. But it worries me."

    They press their forehead to Cael's and then pull back a bit. "That reminds me... Zannah, or Zealot, I asked her for help... she's going to be teaching me some methods of meditation and focus, intertwined with magic, that should help me keep... not just Michael out but /anything/. Strengthen my mental defenses. Should be helpful."
Cael Becker     "Good," Cael says in response to this news - a smile growing across her features. "Good. That's a relief. And you know I'll always be there - ready to pull you back if I get worried you're not yourself. Not to mention Martin and Agnes. You have plenty of people in your corner that'll do whatever it takes to make sure you remain yourself. Your //true// self," Cael asserts firmly - her fingers reaching out to toy briefly with his purple-hued hair.
    "You're matching me this time," she remarks with dry amusement.
Jonathan Sims     "I don't know what you're talking about," Jon says with aplomb. "I asked for Columbia colors, but it seems they mistook Columbia College SC for Columbia University. Next time I'll just say 'Oxford Blue.'" There's a twinkle in those dark eyes, though.

    "You like it?" he asks, voice lighter, and maybe a little nervous. "I really wasn't certain... it /was/ blue last time I dyed it, but that was back in uni."
Cael Becker     Cael lets out a laugh as Jon turns the table - and gives him another kiss, this one brief, and playful. "I'd be pretty hypocritical if I didn't," she counters - before confirming, "Yes. I like it. Now we just need to get Martin to dye //his// hair," she teases with a broad grin, before turning and lean her shoulder back into Jon again, making herself comfortable once more to dig back into her sandwich.