Owner	Pose
Cael Becker	Cael is arm-in-arm with Jon when they step through the portal from the Velvet Room - back into their own home, and she breathes deeply, her eyes closing for a moment as she simply stands in place. "There," she says quietly. "It's not empty anymore."     She gives Jon a wry smile as she adds, "It's- being at home has been lonely, I've sort of been avoiding it more and more. Like- I made this family for myself, and somehow it was all falling apart, and the fainter your... smell became in the bed, well. The harder it was," she admits.     "I knew you were coming home, but not knowing when - or what you were going through... That was the hard part."     She starts moving abruptly - taking a step away from Jon, though she reaches out to capture their left hand, to drag them along with them. "I think I'll put a pot on."
Jonathan Sims	Jon /clings/. He's reluctant to let Cael step away, and clearly relieved that she grabs his hand. "I'm sorry," he blurts. "I'm so--I don't know what else I could have done. I don't--"     They pause. Frown. "I... gods, I've spent so many nights imagining what to say when I got back and I just--I can't--it all seems either inadequate to the weight of what I did, or too overwrought for 'well it was only ten days.'"     He interlaces his fingers with Cael's and holds on to her hand, tight, as they move to the kitchen together. "I do want Thai. I've dreamed--well, no, I didn't really dream, but /imagined/--eating noodles with you again. Such a simple thing to miss so terribly."
Cael Becker	Cael turns towards them, stopping just short of the kitchen to frown at them with a severe look on her features. "Don't do that," she tells them flatly. "I'm not angry with you. I'm- it hurt, I'm not going to lie to you. It hurt, not knowing. Waiting, and only having that- promise to hold to. But you kept your promise; you came back."     She steps in towards Jon, kissing them tenderly, then staring up into their eyes. "You're here now, so... I can put those ten days behind me, and move on. And... if you really think it's safe enough to bring Agnes home-" She lets out a huff of air before muttering under her breath, "God, I can't believe I'm saying this given how I'd- anyways. I want her back here, with us. I- I want my family near." Her eyes well up with tears as she adds, "I don't want to be alone."
Jonathan Sims	"I'll /make/ it safe," Jon says hotly. "What's the point of having all this power, being a /demigod/ if I can't keep my daughter safe in her own home?" He shakes his head. "Anyway, I know now it isn't just some random infection. It started with Rien, and it's spreading from her to other targets, but not to just /any/ targets. To the Justice League Dark. And if they /do/ target her? I will destroy them, one and all, and I don't care how bloody powerful they are. I'll find a way."     He leans down to return the kiss, then sniffles. "I thought--I thought I'd missed her growing up. Missed most of Nimue's life. I thought maybe--I thought you might..."     They suddenly break down, sobbing, and lean down to just press their head against Cael's. "It's alright," they whisper, half to themself. "It's okay. She's here. She's right here."
Cael Becker	"You thought I wouldn't wait 10 years?" Cael asks quietly, leaning into Jon, her own face still close to theirs. "You're right. I wouldn't have," she confirms. "I would have fucking come to find you. It's less than a week to Agnes' birthday, and she's never had her father there, and she //wants// you there. I- I was this close to-" She takes a deep breath in, and wraps her arms around Jon, squeezing them tightly to her. "I would have fucking found you. I was trying to- to believe. To trust, and have faith that it was okay to wait. But inaction just isn't my strong suit - you know?"
Jonathan Sims	"I know," Jon says, gasping to try to stop crying. "I know, I just--I missed you /so/ much. I stopped crying myself to sleep every night but just because I thought I was out of tears. I kept telling myself 'it can't have been that long for them, Cael would have come and found me' but that started to feel like a... not a lie. I can't lie. But a hope, a wish, not something /true/ anymore."     "There's so much to tell you. So much to /show/ you." They wrap their arms around Cael, squeezing her just as tightly. "I kept pushing and pushing through horrible things because I promised. I promised, and I was coming back to you. Because I need you, gods, I need you. I'm sorry. I'm... gods, I'm sorry I'm such a... I can't promise I won't do it again." They laugh. "Because I probably will! We both know it."
Cael Becker	"And if I have to, I will always come find you," Cael promises quietly. "I won't let anything keep you from me, and from Agnes. This is our time together - and I'm not giving that up. Not one second more than I have to. You are //mine,// Mariposa. And I need you, as much as you need me."     She rests there in silence for the moment, her eyes closed, breathing in Jon's smell, and listening to the sound of their breathing. "Tonight is ours - and nothing's coming between us," she promises. "...but we better set an early alarm, and go see Agnes in the morning, or she'll be pissed at us."
Jonathan Sims	"Agnes is coming home in the morning," Jon murmurs. "I'll make pancakes." He just stands there for a long moment.     "I want to show you the Astral Plane. The wonders I saw. You and Agnes both. Maybe--a birthday present? I had thought of Quito, but however far into the Astral we can get is probably /far/ better." They sigh. "I was tempted to stay longer. It's... part of me longs for all of that. Faeries and spirits and magic. But not alone. Not now, anyway. Someday, when--someday." They sigh again.     Then they squeeze Cael's hand, and pull away. "Tea, and food. And..." They pause, lifting her wrist to look at the butterfly tattoo on the inside more closely. "What... what is this?" Their brow furrows, slightly. "I don't remember--I know the hair changed. Because Asag burned you, right? Which--it's lovely. But this...?"
Cael Becker	"Yeah, that's why I changed the hair," Cael confirms, giving Jon a small smile. "I'm glad you like it, though." Her eyes flicker to the tattoo, which should still be healing - but it had healed remarkably quickly, as had her burns. It was something she was still getting used to. "This, though-" She presses her lips together for a moment.     "In a way - it's because of my 'nightmare,'" she admits. "I was wearing my cuff, which- thank you again, for that. But... my mind was in a fog, and I couldn't really remember things, but when I saw the bracelet, I remembered... 'Mariposa.' And that's what helped me to tell them to fuck right off." She squeezes Jon's hand as she adds, "I could lose that cuff. It could be taken, or destroyed... But not this."
Jonathan Sims	Jon frowns. "Your nightmare. You did say you had a visitation. I..." He sighs. "Gods. Of course they came when I wasn't here. Divide and conquer, right?" He shakes his head, and pulls away to fill the electric kettle and put it on the heating element, flipping it on.     "Go on, tell me the whole thing? I think I ought to hear about the whole... well. I still don't know most of what I missed. Where the thing that was masquerading as Rien went--and, gods, I'm so sorry I didn't listen better..." Another sigh.
Cael Becker	"Well, next time I tell you not to hug someone..." Cael remarks. She's partly teasing.     ...and partly not at all.     She comes up behind Jon, wrapping her arms back around them, as she rests her head on their back. "And the Not Rien... thing tore a hole in reality and ran off. Like you do. Fucking little-" Her grip tightens. God, she hadn't wanted to let the thing go...     "They came after me when we were crossing a lake to try to get to Rien. We were on a boat, and a fog rolled in, and suddenly... I couldn't find anyone. I wandered, and called for them - but I got no answer. I ended up going into the hold, thinking they might have gone down there - but all I found was a maze of empty corridors, filled with fog. I walked, and walked, and called out, and no one answered... until I found Alis. Her eyes wewe misted over, and she didn't remember herself, or me, but- I mean... it really seemed like Alis. And I was wondering if you were wrong about what the Field of Reeds really was, or if this was a trick and not my sister at all, and- a trick seemeed more likely. But I couldn't just- turn my back on her and walk away from my sister. You know?"
Jonathan Sims	For a moment, hearing about the way the Fears came after Cael, Jon has to just breathe through his anger. He shakes a little, and his voice still shakes when he finally speaks. "That's what they do. They come at your weak spots. They hit you where you're vulnerable." His fists clench, and he breathes. In and out.     The kettle boils, and he pours water over the strainer into which he'd put the tea. Then he turns around in Cael's arms and wraps her up in another hug. "What happened then?" he asks. "Go on."
Cael Becker	"I kept walking the halls with her. Reminding her of who she was, who I am. She'd remember, and get scared, and run away - and forget. And I'd remind her again, and again, and again... and each time, I remembered a little less of myself. It got harder to remember where I was, how I got there, who I was with, what we were doing, where we were going... It got harder to remember my friends, or Agnes, or Alis. ...or you."     She squeezes her eyes shut as she adds in a whisper, "I could feel it happening. I //knew// it was happening, and while I was forgetting, while I could feel parts of myself slipping through my fingers... it was awful. It was //terrible.// I- I tried so hard to hold onto you. I stared at my cuff, remembering your face, and your smell, and your name. Jonathan Sims, the Archivist, Avatar of Ma'at... But I kept- I'd hear a voice cry out in the mist, and I'd look away, and when I'd look back, a piece would gone. And I'd bump into someone, and apologize, and look back, and- and a piece would be gone. Until I was left staring at my cuff, //knowing// it meant something. Trying to remember, and not being able to, and that- hurt so much, frightened me so much, that I- I dropped my arm, and looked away, and walked into the fog and then- Then I couldn't remember who I was, or why I was crying..." Tears stream down her face, "God, I'm sorry, Jon. I'm so sorry..."     I was just... wandering the mists alone. Numb, mindless. Sometimes someone would be there, but usually I was alone. And even if someone //was// there... It's not like we were together. I was still alone. It wasn't- it wasn't awful. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't awful, it just was. I didn't have to fight, I didn't have to be afraid... But there wasn't any joy, either. Any love."     She's silent for a moment, her head resting against Jon's chest as she adds softly, "In a way, it's familiar. It's the sort of... numbness that Alis pulled me out of after my mother died. That-" She blinks away a few tears. "That you, and Sam, and Steve and everyone helped pull me out of, finally, after Alis died. I could have just stayed like that and never minded. Never known any better."
Jonathan Sims	"It's okay," Jon says softly. "You tried. You fought. What is there to apologize for?" They sigh, and bury their face in Cael's hair for a moment. "That's what they do," they murmur. "They go after the weakest parts of you, the things you're most afraid of. They /feed/ on that. But you fought, you didn't just... give up or give in." They kiss the top of Cael's head.     "It sounds like depression, in a way," he adds. "Numb and foggy." He sighs. "So this 'Lonely' or 'One Alone' is... well, depression makes sense in a way. It does involve feeling... cut off, even when you're surrounded by people. We're social creatures, we humans. We /need/ other people."     A pause, and they choke back a sob. "A-anyway. So you, umm... how'd you get out?"
Cael Becker	Jon's reassurance seems to be what she needs, as she gives them another squeeze. she does feel like she gave up in the end - when she drapped her arm rather than agonize over trying to figure out what she'd forgotten. Maybe she could have brought some of it back? Maybe-     "Eventually - two... beings? appeared in front of me. They looked like... except for the eyes. One had misty, foggy eyes. The Lonely. The other had... riotous, brightly colored eyes. Spiral. They said I could stay lost in the fog forever, or I could pick one of them, and they'd free me. And I just- I was so empty, I didn't know how to choose. What I was even choosing between... The one said accepting being alone would give me purpose. The other said... said I could make my own reality. And I- I was going to choose, but without know who I was, how could I?"     She takes a deep, shuddering breath, and lets it out before she continues. "Lonely touched me - and some things started to come back slowly. My name. I- I was reaching out towards her, and I saw- saw the cuff. And that's what saved me..." She starts to sob, clinging tightly to Jon as she struggles to get out, "All I- all I c-could remember w-was... Mmm-Mariposa, and I- th-that was enough. I told 'em to fuck off."
Jonathan Sims	Jon laughs. He laughs so hard he shakes, and actually picks Cael up off the ground for a moment, in the exuberance of the moment. "Oh, love. That's... gods, I've missed you. That's just the most /you/ thing, isn't it? I don't know why I was ever worried. So long as you know who you are--you'll be just fine. You'll tell them to fuck off."     He puts her back down on the ground. "I came back. I promised I'd come back. That blue butterfly--it kept leading me to the right way. Helping me find me way through. Is that why you got the tattoo? Mariposa?" A pause. "I... I sang that to myself, a lot, when I was... feeling lonely."
Cael Becker	Cael lets out a laugh of her own as she's scooped up, unexpectedly, but the tears keep streaming down her cheek. At the question, she nods, before adding. "I didn't- The cuff s-saved, so- I- I didn't want it to ever get lost, or- or taken from me," she explains. So she made it permanent.     She wipes at her eyes, taking a deep breath in, and letting it slowly as she starts to steady her breathing once again. "I sang it too - especially when I was going to bed. I missed you, and I'm //so// glad you're back."     There's a brief pause before she adds in a hopeful voice, "...noodles? I- we can order it from- you remember, the, umm, Thai Palace was the one that offered the Archivist free take out for life. If we tell them it's for you they'll- they can even make it with you in mind. You know?"
Jonathan Sims	Jon laughs again. "Noodles. Yes. I've been trying to say--gods, Cael, so many nights all I wanted was you there to have noodles with me. Even if it was in Hell." A pause. "Tomorrow, though, kebab. I've been /dying/ for some good kebab. And pizza. And..." He keeps laughing, and crying too, and for a moment just kind of shakes there while holding Cael.     Finally, he sniffles, and pulls away. "Okay. Order noodles, yes, Thai Palace, and I'll get the tea done and... umm... I can tell you about Hell, or it can wait? It... gods, I don't know. It was a /lot/." Well, obviously. Ten years.     Then, abruptly, they turn back to Cael and say, "What would you--if I got a matching tattoo, would that--would you like that? Would that be a good thing? I've never had a tattoo before, and I don't even know--it might have to be magic or something, but--I don't know, it just might be a thing. A connection."
Cael Becker	"Tomorrow kebabs," Cael agrees. "You, and me, and Agnes - and two dogs and a cat. And kebabs." She'd like that - a lot. She keeps her arms around them as they shake, and then leans in for a kiss as Jon begins to pull away.     "I'll place the order - and you can tell me as much, or as little as you want," she promises. She pauses for a moment, then lets out a sigh. "Should we have done that as a Statement? Damnit. How easy, or hard, has it been for Jon to get what they need over the past ten years? "I'll- try to keep that in mind next time," she promises, as she pulls out her phone, so she can call in the order.     Sure, she can just order through an app - but she's got to talk to them to make sure they know it's for //Jon.//     She stops scrolling through her past calls, to look up at Jon in surprise at his question - a smile growing on her feature. "I- Jon, just you offering is- That alone means a lot. If you want to, sure." She holds up her tattoo as she adds, "Doesn't need to be these colors, though. I- these colors mean //you.// Yeah?"
Jonathan Sims	"I'd probably go for the sort that's in the Velvet Room," Jon admits. "Not exactly the same, no, but--that blue butterfly led me back to you. Whatever the motivations, I'm grateful, you know?" He smiles, as he goes about pouring tea--now oversteeped, but oh well--and taking it over to the couch.     Nimue finally comes out to sniff at Jon, butting at his ankles as he goes to sit down. "Yes, yes," he murmurs fondly, and reaches down to pick up the cat once the tea tray's put down. He buries his face in her fur as he gives her scritches, sobbing all over again. "I missed you, too," he whispers to the cat. "Thought you'd be old and gray and forgotten all about me."     After a moment, he looks up at Cael and says, "I just got one a couple of days ago. I should be alright for a little while yet. I, umm--I pulled them out of people in Hell pretty regularly, and then--it's surprisingly easy to barter for a statement in the Astral, actually. Stories and dreams are a typical currency there to begin with, so I think they see it much the same."
Cael Becker	Cael nods, giving Jon a smile, before she turns her attention to placing the order. "Oh, hey - it's Cael Becker. I wanted to put in for our usual order - Jon //swears// they can taste the difference when the chef knows it's for him," not exactly a lie, is it? "and they really appreciate that, so- No, no. I keep telling you, we're going to pay. You've still got our card on file? Thanks." The dinner order taken care of, she joins Jon on the couch, wrapping an arm around them, and resting her head on their shoulder. Her free hand she runs through Nimue's fur. "Yeah, you're glad they're back, too. Huh?"     Bear, of course, can't have Nimue get //all// the attention - so he trots over with his raggid, floppy rabbit in his mouth - shoving his head into Jon's lap as well.     "I'm glad you were able to get statements," she remarks, as she fingers resting against their back shifting - moving up to Jon's head to massage at their scalp.
Jonathan Sims	"The first one upset me, but I got over that. It was, umm..." Jon stops, focusing on the cat for a moment, then settles her on his leg while he takes the rabbit from Bear to toss it across the room. "Here, let me start from the beginning."     He sighs and leans into Cael's touch, eyes closing for a moment. "Annabelle and I fell out of the world," he starts, voice oddly rhythmic. "She tried to use her webbing to close the crack, but it wasn't enough. So I infused it with Ma'at's power. A /lot/ of Ma'at's power. And I realized... that's what I'm supposed to be doing. Or... some of it, anyway. Fixing these cracks, shoring up the foundations of reality." Like an angel. He doesn't say it--and he knows he's /not/ an angel. But they're on the same side, and quite similar. "Eventually, I'll have to learn to do it on my own, and more easily. It took a /lot/ out of me, and I spent years building that power back up."     They swallow. "Then we were in... nothing. No light except for us. No sound except our voices. But we still managed to walk on something, and Annabelle took us to somewhere we could come back into reality. And we... talked. We really needed to talk." They laugh. "Seemed appropriate, when she popped us into the Ninth Circle of Hell. Betrayers and traitors, stuck in the ice." A pause. "She insisted she didn't really betray me. That everything she did was to protect me. Still, it felt... right, somehow."
Cael Becker	"I'm glad you were able to talk to her," Cael confirms quietly, the movements of her fingers seem to match the rhythm of Jon's speech. Or maybe it's the other way around? "You patched things up a little bit, then? But she's still- a puppet, isn't she? For that- bitch of a spider?     "Can she be saved, Jon?" she asks with concern, watching Bear pursue his rabbit with louding, thumping steps. It's a good thing there's so much insulation in the floor.
Jonathan Sims	"Actually, she was working against the Spider's interests, at least where it concerned me. I think she had to go get punished for it, after we parted ways." Jon sighs. "She doesn't want to be attached to the Mother of Puppets. I think--I think maybe we can save her from it. But she did have a point, too. Entropy's part of the world. It's... I don't know if I see the Old Gods the way a lot of people do, as things that 'should not be.' That's not even how Lovecraft and Derleth and the others presented them, you know? It was always 'there is a horrible truth to the universe,' it was that these things are what's /really/ out there."     He shakes his head. "No, I think I see it more--they exist. They /are/. In some ways, they're even necessary. But they're like Apophis--they cannot be allowed to do what they want, or everything gets pulled down with them. Balance, you know? We need Order and Chaos both."     They pause, and then smirk. "Oh, you'll like this--the main area in the ice where your friend Luci should've been was empty. Conspicuously so. Given his 'vacation' and all."     A sigh. "Anyway, when we stopped talking... I flew up and up and /up/, and followed that blue butterfly to the Eighth Circle. That's--I don't know if you know Dante? It's full of liars and fraudsters. Obviously I don't belong there." He chuckles. "The Lord of that Circle, Satanael, let his minions try to confuse and mislead me... I think just for some fun. I wound up finding my way through that, seeing through the illusions... but then I had to /walk/ through a /huge/ piece of land."     They turn to look at Cael. "That's what took so long. Each Circle, after the Ninth, took me a year, for one reason and another."
Cael Becker	"If I can help you get Annie back..." Cael says in a quiet voice. Jon knows he has her help, and her support. //Always.// Her fingers continue rubbing at Jon's head as she listens, her expression thoughtful. "You know I'm not much of a reader, Jon," she reminds him. "So... Through the ice, past the liars... Neither of those sound //too// horrible, even if they do sound a bit boring. Then what?"
Jonathan Sims	"Well, I had to survive on gross pears and centipede flesh," Jon says with a smirk. Then his face falls. "And on--statements from people that--" He sighs. "The first man I took a statement from was an astrologer who didn't believe in what he was doing. He lied to his clients, but he really did try to help them. And he loved the stars, but--it was hundreds of years ago. He should've been an astronomer. It just seemed so... unfair."     Jon shakes his head. "I'm mostly over worrying about statements, though. Everyone there... if they'd just see their way through it they could get out. And I /need/ them, and I'm not sure it hurts anyone. I'd prefer to ask, but..." A shrug. "Anyway. After that was Seven, which is Violence, which... wasn't as bad as it might seem? I fought for the right to be the Hell Lord's Champion for a year, and learned a lot about fighting." They smirk. "Maybe I could finally take you. Doubtful, but maybe. So that... wasn't so bad. Six was..." They blow out a breath.     "Turns out I've been convinced I was a heretic. I... well, I deliberately let myself be closed up in a box full of fire to... figure out how to get over that."
Cael Becker	"You only ever need to ask me, Jon," Cael promises. "If I end up filling more than my fair share of shelves in your archives... Oh well." She tilts her head to give them a kiss on the cheek as she adds, "And maybe it won't be so bad if you see me again in your dreams now and then..." While they're apart.     As Jon talks about his increased fighting skills, Cael lets out a laugh. "Oh, really?" she asks. "Well. We'll try it and we'll see, won't we?" she challenges them, a determined gleam in her gaze. Yeah, fat chance she'll make it easy on them.     Her expression sobers, though, as they continue - and speak about the fire. "Oh, love..." she says quietly, resting her head against them once more, her fingers tightening for a moment in their hair. That anything would make Jon suffer like that... And why?
Jonathan Sims	"It... was good, in a way. It helped me clarify a lot of things for myself. I realized..." Jon frowns. How to explain something that took months of pain and introspection to understand? "Everything has a grain of truth. Every religion grasps at something... fundamental to the universe. Love and compassion, they're... central to everything. And Ma'at is love, in a way. Compassion. It's... it's hard to explain. I can try, but..." He rubs at his face. "I'm still working out what it means. I don't feel as... lost anymore, though."     A brief smile, and they lean into Cael. "Not as angry anymore, either. I let go of some of that in the swamp. It's--I pushed into the fire, and it didn't consume me. I dug my way out of the box, and found myself in the Fifth Circle. It's a swamp, fed by the River Styx. The wrathful wind up there, weighted down by their anger. The sullen are in the bottom, choking on the anger they can't express. Others, the belligerent, claw over each other to get above the surface."     A pause, and a sigh. "I was... angry about a lot of things. I kept sinking into the swamp, reconciling something, letting it go, managing to get back out. Hell was like... the worst kind of therapy, you know? Painful and awful, but also rather necessary."
Cael Becker	Cael listens in thoughtful silence - until he gets to the belligerent. An amused smile crosses over her lips before she remarks, "So that's me, then," she remarks. "I cling to my anger. That's something I've known about myself for a long time. I suppose I could have spent ten years there - or more - just in that swamp. Furious that I couldn't get back to you," she says wryly. "I guess we're lucky you were the one who ended up there - and not me."
Jonathan Sims	Jon chuckles and reaches away from petting Nimue to ruffle Cael's hair, as much to watch the way the colors shift as to irritate her. "Maybe you should work on that, hmm, love?" It's said in a lighter tone than it ever used to be. She'll get there when she gets there.     "Anyway, next was Greed... which mostly let me pass through unscathed. Evidently I have no real association with the vice, positive or negative. Like I said, I ran into my old vicar there, but otherwise it was... a quiet stretch. A fairly dull year. In the others I had some kind of company--the Hell Lords all took a certain interest--but in this one I was mostly alone." They sigh, focusing on the cat for a moment.     "...I had trouble getting statements in the third. Gluttony, see. Which..." They huff out a breath. "I suppose I'm something of a glutton. I have my addictions, I like food and alcohol, but I've come to the point of being bloody /done/ apologizing for it. The Hound of Hell wound up coming after me when I went down to grab a statement, and eating me--which is what it does to the 'sinners' there--and then I had to regenerate my entire damn body over the course of several months."
Cael Becker	"I'm content with who I am," Cael counters. "As long as I don't let my anger control me - and turn me into something dangerous or immoral - then is it really so bad?" she asks with a shrug of her shoulders, reaching up to smooth her hair back down.     As Jon talks of being //eaten// by the hound, she stiffens beside them, her jaw tightening, and robbing her of speach for several long moments. "How is that okay?" she finally asks in an angry tone. "How is any of that okay? I don't- I don't wish that Javi, I don't wish that on- on anyone. That shit's just- ...wrong. And why? Because they like pie or whatever? It's fucking bullshit."
Jonathan Sims	Jon sighs. "Well... that's the thing, about /all/ of it. It's really not about how anyone /else/ sees what someone's done--it's about how /they/ see it, down in their soul. About whether or not they've... worked through whatever issues it was causing. It's not about just being angry--it's about, yes, letting that anger control you. I wouldn't let myself feel or express my anger, even though I had a /lot/ of it. Honestly? I'm an angrier person than you are, in a lot of ways. You /get/ angry, but you're not operating out of anger every moment. I used to be angry pretty much all the time. Everything I did, every choice I made, was tinged by my bitterness and resentment. By trying to avoid dealing with my anger."     He glances to Cael. "You try to avoid the things you're /afraid/ of. You don't swallow your anger and stew sullenly, or seek out fights to express your anger in the wrong ways. You spend a great deal of your time avoiding the possibility of pain and loss." A smile. "But you're getting better at it. You have compassion for yourself, so you're trying to better yourself here and now. And that's... that's a lot of what the lesson Jesus was trying to send was. That's the lesson of a lot of religions. Try to better yourself and your world, now, because evidently in the afterlife you're going to be put through the wringer to get your soul back into balance."     He shakes his head. "So... no. It's not because they like pie. It's because they indulge to excess, give in to pleasure at the expense of all else in their lives. Imagine, I suppose, a feudal lord who has lavish feasts where much of the food gets wasted, for no other reason than because he can. It's really not the eating that's the problem--it's the imbalance. The /constant/ imbalance. It's an alcoholic or a drug addict who indulges so much their families wind up ignored. My problem, for most of my life, is that I think I'm out of balance when I'm really... not. I don't waste food, I don't ignore my child to go buy cigarettes. /People/ here in the living world have used a truth about keeping yourself in balance and harmony with yourself and others as a means of control. Instead of 'make sure everyone gets food, make sure you don't focus on pleasure so much you ignore others,' it's 'all pleasure is bad always.'"
Cael Becker	As Jon calls her out on her discomfort with her own fear, Cael's gaze drops to where Bear is contentedly gnawing at his bunny - pausing briefly to cock his ears at Cael before he continues. Her discomfort doesn't get any better when he cites alcoholics and drug addicts.     She has her own experience in that regard, of course.     "Well. If you were ignoring Agnes - believe me, I'd kick you right in the ass. So no worries on that front, yeah?" she remarks wryly - rather than addressing any of her other thoughts.     She's silent for a moment, then adds quietly, "They still don't deserve it." Had her mother ended up somewhere like that? Was there any way of //ever// knowing what became of her mother's... soul?
Jonathan Sims	Jon sighs. "It's not about... deserve, so much. It's... sort of metaphorical. It's supposed to encourage... look, so far as I'm aware, at a certain point souls go back into the cycle. People who, on balance, were /good/ get a rest, a reward, a long period of happiness and joy, to bring themselves back into balance so they're relatively neutral. People who, on balance, were bad... it's not about /punishment/, per se. It's about them being forced to face up to their flaws and deal with them."     A pause, and then, "But, you know... I /left/ the Church. So I don't really... I get what you're saying, but it's not..." He bites his lip, considering for a moment.     "Father Langston was told that a group of boys beat up one of his star soloists, on church grounds. Their parents offered him larger tithes in order to finish up a remodel to the stained glass of the church nave--which he thought would attract more parishoners. In exchange, the vicar would ignore the accusation. So he did. When he found out those boys had gone after the target again, off church grounds, and /raped/ him, he suggested that perhaps said target was not fit to be in the church choir any longer." There's simmering anger in Jon's tone, but he holds it back, largely so it doesn't spill out onto Cael.     "He betrayed his duty to /all/ of those involved. To the target, yes--obviously. But also to those boys, and their parents. He had a chance to teach them something about forgiveness and justice. To mediate. To make /all/ of their lives better and strengthen the community. Instead, he just enforced the idea that money will buy their way out of all trouble, and cast out someone who needed his help. So now, he's frozen in ice, for all eternity--or until he can figure out /why/ he was doing those terrible things."     They shake their head. "Will you tell me he didn't /deserve/ that? How do you know? You weren't there. You don't know what it will take for him to learn the lessons, to better himself. I can tell you that everyone I met in Hell thought they deserved to be there, even if they wouldn't admit it, even if they didn't think they did, in life. Who are we to say they're not? They can get out--they just have to do the work."     He sighs. "It's... it's not that I think it's a /good/ system. It's that--honestly? I /did/ need all of what I went through. It would have taken /decades/ for me to figure any of this out, if I ever did. Do I /like/ that I got eaten by a damn dog? No. But the experience taught me something. It forced me to recognize that, no, /I/ did not deserve that. Some of the people down there /did/ though. And the fires of the tomb? I deserved that. I refused to just accept Ma'at. I /needed/ to sink in the swamp, to work through my anger. I'm not upset that I went through what I went through. I just wish it hadn't taken so long."
Cael Becker	Cael rests still against Jon as she listens - listens to his anger at the mention of the abuse, of the //rape.// "Victim blaming bullshit," is what she finally says, as she turns to look at Jon, her eyes searching their face. There's a question there. Is this something they got from a friend, or from a statement? Or- Jon does sing, after all.     "I just- you know me. I think there' must be better ways to teach these things than through pain, and torment, and torture. I'm- I'm glad you got something out of all this, but- you suffered." And she's just supposed to be okay with that?
Jonathan Sims	"I was already suffering, Cael," Jon says softly. "Life is suffering. But suffering is temporary, as are most things. We don't suffer forever, just like we're not happy forever. I was in pain, yes--but the pain helped me grow, and better myself. There will be more pain in the future. Trying desperately to avoid it only makes it worse."     He lets the cat jump down and wander off so he can gather Cael up in his arms. "But there's joy, too. And the thing is--if I didn't love people so much, miss them so much, that ten years might not have hurt so much. Love comes with pain. That's what I meant, earlier. You think suffering has no worth--but it does. Not the /most/ worth--I'm not glorifying it. But not none at all."     They rest their chin on the top of her head. "Think of it like this--how much frustration, and pain, and aching, do you have to go through, sparring and learning to fight? Growth hurts. It just... does. That's part of life. Hell, Tartarus, even Ammit and her lake of fire--they're trying to get people to grow. And that's going to hurt, and the more they resist, the more it hurts."
Cael Becker	"I don't know if I'll ever completely agree with that, Jon," Cael answers quietly. "I know we can't exist without pain, but- that doesn't mean there isn't a better way to do these things. You found value in what you experienced and- that's good. I'm glad, really, but does that mean there isn't //another// way to do it? Possibly even a better way?" she asks.     She tucks herself into their arms, holding Jon in return, and listening to the sound of their heart, and their breath before she speaks again. "Who were you talking about in that story - with Father Langston? Was that you?"
Jonathan Sims	Jon swallows. Hard. "Yes," he says softly. His whole body is tense.     "I, ummm... yes. I was... one of the soloists, in the choir. Which was always the draw, really, for the church, going back--oh, since its founding, over a century ago. A century and a half? It's a newer church." Because to a European, 'a century and a half' is practically yesterday. "But it's always been... they used to bring in boys from nearby parishes to sing in the choir, and they'd live on church grounds. The choir's always been a big draw. But Father Langston..." He sighs.     "I wanted to be a vicar myself. Go to seminary and all of that. But, umm, well. Given... what happened... I didn't. Contemplated becoming a Buddhist monk, but Gran, umm--well, she'd already told me about the Kemetic gods, and taught me to control my magic, so I started studying Egyptology."
Cael Becker	"Oh, Jon..." Cael says softly - her voice carrying the pain, and concern, and- something akin to grief that she feels for them. She holds them tightly while they speak, then pulls away to gently smooth Jon's hair away from their face, adding a few gentle kisses to their brow, and cheek - and ever so softly on their lips. "No wonder you've been angry," she says quietly. "Fucking bastards." There's no real heat to the words, though - as Cael's attention is focused on Jon, and not the people who wronged them.     She brushes her fingers over their cheeks before adding a bit wryly, "I have a hard time picturing you as a Vicar, you know. Maybe it's the skirt, or your hair... or your taste in music." She allows amusement to color her features for a moment, before she tucks herself back in against Jon once more, this time letting her fingers wander back up to their scalp to deliver a gentle massage once more.     She takes a deep breath in, letting it out slowly before she adds, "I was always afraid to end up back in foster care. ...for similar reasons. Even if you try to tell someone... foster kids have a reputation as... liars."
Jonathan Sims	"I know the feeling," Jon murmurs. "With Mr. Spider, the police were only convinced I /wasn't/ a liar when they decided I must be crazy. Granny thought I was lying--she used to say that if I hated my therapists so much, all I had to do was tell her the truth about what happened and she'd stop sending me."     He sighs. "But, really... she was scared. She was trying to protect me, and she didn't think she could unless I told her the truth. She didn't think I'd hurt Matthew--but she thought I was protecting someone who /had/, taking the fall for them. And she was terrified what they'd do to a little brown boy, you know?"     He peers down at her for a moment before leaning into the scalp massage and murmuring, "Did something happen that people... didn't believe?" An opening, to talk, if she wants to.
Cael Becker	Cael's fingers continue to move slowly, as she listens to Jon - and continue even as he gently, and cautiously questions her. She doesn't respond immediately - but after a few breaths, and blinking away a few tears, she finally confirms with, "Yeah. The, ummm... the biological son of one of my foster families used to sneak into my room at night," she explains. "It's- that's part of why I tried so hard to hide how bad things were with my mom, sometimes. You know? Even tried to hide that she died. I didn't want to go back to foster care."
Jonathan Sims	"Oh, Cael." Jon closes his eyes, to let rage ebb and flow. "My knee-jerk response is 'I hope he's suffering somewhere, in equal measure to what he did to you.' And the adults that didn't believe you, too. I know that doesn't help. But--gods. I'm so sorry."     A pause. "That's why you've been--skittish, I guess would be the best term. I had figured it was /something/, but I didn't want to push. Even just inexperience in sleeping in a bed with someone doesn't account for the /fear/ I used to sense. Gods. You should feel safe in your own bed."     A longer pause. Then, "I hate to sound like a broken record, but--have you told Caldwell?"
Cael Becker	"I do feel safe in my bed, Jon," Cael answers - and there's a gentle fondness to her voice, as her fingers tighten momentarily on the back of their head, before the massage continues. "I was afraid, at first, but you know that didn't last long."     She takes a deep breath in, and lets it out slowly before adding, "I've touched on it, with Caldwell. She's, umm - she's been my therapist longer than you ever were," she admits. "And I'd talked to others before that. It's been talked about before."
Jonathan Sims	Jon nods. "I... haven't. I hadn't told anyone, not even Martin. I finally managed to start... talking about it. In the realm of Lust, funnily enough. It, umm... there wasn't anyone like that, there. Those sorts were considered violent or liars, seducing or forcing. Lust was just for people who, well, again--indulged to the point of ignoring everything else. They saw me as a... curiosity, there." He snorts.     A sigh. "I'm glad you've talked to someone about it, though. If there's anything I can do to help, though... anything at all..." They pull back a bit, then lean down to kiss the top of Cael's head.
Cael Becker	"You already do," Cael answers quietly. "You make me feel safe, and loved, and seen, and heard... You help me more than I can ever explain. I //need// you, and I'm grateful for all the time we have together - because I love you more than anyone else in this world."     She squeezes Jon with one arm, and tilts her head back to look up at them with a hint of amusement on the corner of her lips. "It's okay, though, if you can't exactly say the same back. I understand." After all, she has Martin and Agnes to 'compete' against.     Her expression goes more serious as she adds, "You know I feel the same, right? If I can help you- I always will." She watches Jon's face for a moment, before adding, "Anyways - what was that like - the realm of Lust? I don't, uh... I don't know that I would have done very well there."
Jonathan Sims	Jon reaches down to smooth Cael's hair, and smiles. "I know," he murmurs. "Thank you."     Then he shakes his head. "They probably would've looked at you as a curiosity, too. The rain there, that scours the lustful, didn't touch me at all. They, ahh... Lord Mammon thought it'd be funny to have the demons of his court try to seduce me. No trickery, no drugs or anything like that, just--try to figure out how to get the asexual to sleep with one of them." He snorts. "And it... really /was/ pretty funny. Imagine basing your /entire/ identity around that, you know? They were so put out that just walking up and going 'hello I am aesthetically pleasing, please take off my clothing' didn't work." A roll of his eyes.     "I don't know if he would've even tried that with you. /I/ found it funny--in fact, I tried to play along with making it /funnier/, like playing the straight man in some high farce. You... well... you might've been let right on through the way I was in the Fourth. You wouldn't have played along, and you don't feel lust, so--what's the point in bothering you?"     They chuckle. "I mean, it's weird to say that was the best part of Hell, but, well--I was never bored, and there was plenty of good food and drink, and I had some long talks with some fascinating people. The number of people that are down there because they thought with their genitals in life, who were otherwise brilliant and accomplished--well, it makes for lively parties, even when it's all quite chaste."
Cael Becker	"Why would they let me through - and not you?" Cael asks, reaching up with her hand to brush it against Jon's cheek.     Jon's here - they're back, and they're safe. In some ways, she was still absorbing that fact, after the uncertainty of the past ten days.     "I, uhh... I have to admit, I sometimes have been... curious. I've wondered why it's such a big fucking deal to everyone else. But I've always been so afraid of the very idea..." Uneasiness starts to creep into her expression, and she turns away, tucking her head back in against Jon's chest, instead.
Jonathan Sims	"Because he could get something out of me," Jon replies. "I'll admit that, if I /were/ sexually attracted to people, I'd probably... well, I don't know how often I would? It seems odd, to think about. But I don't see it as sinful or anything. It just... is. The memory of conceiving Agnes, for instance, it isn't... /unpleasant/. It was actually rather pleasant. It was just... neither of us actually /wanted/ to be doing what we were doing."     He hums softly, back in his throat. "I suppose it's maybe--I understand violence, for instance. I can /be/ violent. I bested the Bull of Minos, to be Lord Chiron's Champion for a year. I understand sex enough to find it funny--and I understand the concept of /connection./ I understand the physical processes, I get /why/ people are lustful. I'm just... not. Greed? I don't... /get/ greed. Money's a means to an end, to me. I don't hoard it, and I don't spend too much, and I don't really have much to say to anything who does either."     A shrug. "Or maybe it's just a difference in personality, with the Hell Lords. Maybe Mammon would've kept you around in his court for a bit to roll your eyes at all the antics and remind them there's other things to do in life."     He strokes Cael's hair, gently. "I understand being scared. I think--I /think/--that for a lot of people, wanting to have sex feels like wanting to eat, or drink. There's a reason they talk about being 'thirsty.' The urge to procreate drives people to have this... /need/, even if they don't actually, you know, /need/ to. Which makes sense, I mean, people who do that more often have more babies, evolution, etcetera."
Cael Becker	"I- yeah, I guess that all makes sense," Cael agrees. "Biologically. I definitely don't feel a //need.// I just- I've wondered sometimes, what it's like. When you feel safe, with someone you trust."     Rather than linger on that thought, though, she contines on without a pause. "So - after being eaten by a dog, and hit on by demons... What happened?" she asks, tilting her head towards the feel of Jon's fingers on her hair.
Jonathan Sims	Jon giggles at 'hit on'--he really /does/ find it funny--and then goes on, "After that, I... left Hell. Limbo's mostly empty, and the blue butterfly helped me find my way through the dark forest, and then... and then there was the river, and a boat, and I met Lavenza, though I didn't know it was her at the time. I paid for passage downriver with a dream."     He sighs. "The Astral Plane was... wonderful. The Great River is beautiful, and closer to the heart of the Astral there's a lot more domains of spirits and faeries and such. None of it was quite so /painful/ as anything in Hell. It was just... mmm. A journey. A lot happened, I met a lot of people, but it was all just sort of, oh, I don't know. The Archivist's Travels, I guess?"
Cael Becker	"Well, I'm glad you were able to enjoy it. And I'll listen to as much about your trip through the Astral as you want to share - Archivist," Cael says in an amused voice. "Just be prepared that Agnes is probably going to want to hear abou-" She cuts off as there's a sound from her phone, and pulling it out - she grins and taps a button to unlock the front of the apartment building. "Noodles!" she declares with satisfaction.     She turns towards Jon, giving them another kiss - before she asks, "So - what was food like on the Astral Plane? Just like what we're used to, or...?"
Jonathan Sims	Jon beams at Cael's excitement regarding noodles. "Oh, I already know what we're doing for Agnes' birthday. We're going to go to the Astral, through proper projection. She needs to learn how anyway, and it's safer to travel in that fashion for the both of you." But not for him? Possibly there isn't much difference, now.     "Food was food, in some places. In others it was... fantastical, alien, wonderous. In some places disgusting." A beat. "All of it more... filling for me, than here, I'll admit. But..." He sighs. "I don't belong there, not all the time. Not... not yet, anyway."
Cael Becker	"Do you think you would start to live on the Astral Plane, someday?" Cael asks quietly. "Some day - after I'm gone?" Cael gives Jon a small, slightly sad smile at the thought.     "Will Agnes live a normal life span? Or will she live longer? She's going to be an Avatar as well, after all."     And Jon won't have to be alone. There's Chas, Rien, Lydia...
Jonathan Sims	"I don't rightly know," Jon says. "I expect... I feel like I'll probably be doing something akin to this... quite often in my life. Going off to repair something, taking years to do so, coming back to the mortal realm. Maybe it'll be shorter or longer ot the same time there--hard to say. But I think this was probably, partly, getting me used to the idea."     They smile softly. "Hopefully it won't always be on my own like this... but sometimes, it'll have to be, as painful as that is. Sometimes, maybe others can come along. We'll see, hmm?"
Cael Becker	"We'll see," Cael agrees, leaning in to give Jon another kiss - that gets interrupted by a buzz at the door. "Mmmm. Next time, keep your phone on you so you can get my texts, though." She's teasing. Right? ... right?     She pushes away from Jon to bounce over towards the door, pulling out some cash for a tip, which she hands over to the delivery driver, while accepting the bag of take out. "Oh, God, it smells so //good//!" she says eagerly. "Ooo! Looks like they added some mango sticky rice. Nice." After a detour to the kitchen for washable cutlery, she returns to the couch, opening up Jon's noodles first to twirl some up for them. "Your Royal Godliness," she says teasingly, as she offers the forkful over to them.     Only one she's literally fed him a forkful does she open her own container to start eating. "So, the DDR game pads arrived, by the way. I, uhh- I haven't opened them yet. You still have to try to beat me, you know."
Jonathan Sims	Jon closes his eyes as he accepts the forkful of noodles. Chews, and swallows, and his reaction might be a bit surprising. He suddenly bursts into tears. He opens his eyes and leans over to give Cael a kiss on the cheek, then retreats a bit to let her eat, and focus on his own food.     "Sorry," he says with a sniffle. "Umm, it's just. It's... really good. Before I left, Lydia was suggesting that I, umm... that we make a little shrine, and you and Agnes... offer me things. Which is... silly, right? But it still..." He shakes his head. "Sounds ridiculous. But it's /filling/." He sighs, and starts in on his food.     "I /lost/ my phone," they grumble after a moment. "I mean it. Lost. I certainly didn't have /reception/ down there, but I think, umm--I think the damn dog ate it. He ate all the rest of my stuff." They pluck at their clothing. "It's a slight effort of will to keep all of this in existence... I really ought to go shower and change into proper clothing."
Cael Becker	"A shrine?" Cael repeats - her brows furrowing. "That- I mean, it does sound ridiculous, but- it helps?" she asks, reaching over to run her fingers through Jon's hair, before she leans in to kiss their tears. "How would that work, exactly? It's the same sort of idea as having people make the food with you in mind - right?" she asks, trying to understand.     She digs into her own noodles then, adding around a mouthful, "Nope - not letting you off the hook so easily. Next time, you return my texts," she insists, giving Jon a playful elbow in their side.     She swallows, before grumbling good-naturedly, "Geeze. What's the world coming to when 'sorry, I was in a liminal space beyond space, time, and all reality' counts as a valid excuse."     AFter another kiss - as if she hasn't given Jon enough of those already - she adds, "Eat while it's hot. Then shower and change."
Jonathan Sims	"Not /all/ reality," Jon protests. "In fact, in some ways, the Astral Plane is more /real/ than anything else in existence. It's just... you know... no bloody cell reception out there. Just because the Velvet Room gets reception..."     He eyes her. "You're teasing me." He harrumphs. "Fine. Maybe I'll work on enchanting a phone or something."     He goes back to the food, saying, "Lydia took a cherry from the bar and made a little shrine with my cigarettes and formally offered it to me and it was... more filling than any cherry had a right to be. I'd been feeling desperately unfulfilled for /months/, and that /one/ cherry was enough. It wasn't /just/ the offering, though. It's some combination of 'godly food' and 'offering.' It's... well..." He coughs. "I mean. I'm not 'My /Royal/ Godliness,' but I evidently /am/ something of a demigod now. Which is... weird."     A frown. "But it feels odd to ask my /family/ to... give me offerings, you know?"
Cael Becker	Mischief sparkles in her eyes as Jon calls her out on her bullshit, and she flashes him a broad grin around a mouthful of noodles - though she swallows hastily to ask, "Could you enchant a phone like that? Would you have to enchant mine as well to... 'pair' them up?" she asks. "I- if I could have gotten any sort of answer... If I'd known where you were, if I'd had any way to keep in contact, or know when you'd be back- it was the uncertainty that really made it awful. I know you told me to trust you, I- I //believed// you were doing everything you could to come home, but- It was hard." She gives Jon a sad smile, and takes another bite as they continue, her expression going thoughtful.     "Is it weird?" she asks thoughtfully. "I //love// you. I'd do anything I could to- help you. I don't want you to feel hungry, Jon." She frowns in thought before she adds, "But I don't worship you. Is the love enough? Is that enough to make it an offering? I mean- we gave Alis offerings, right? And that was love, not worship."
Jonathan Sims	"Worship is a kind of love, so--would that be enough? I mean, Lydia hardly /worships/ me. And I'm not even sure--given her current state, with her Beast and all, I'm not certain she can love me, as a friend, either." Jon frowns. He doesn't like to think about that. "I... suppose it's worth a try. Still seems weird. But everything's weird, anymore."     He shrugs, then goes on, "As for a phone? I don't rightly know. I can certainly try, or try to find other ways to get through. Sometimes it might well be that I have to be out of contact, though." He looks up and reaches out, to cup Cael's cheek for a moment. "I'll always come back, though. Alright? No matter how long it is--I'll come back to you."
Cael Becker	"I know," Cael answers quietly. "I know." A tear streaks down her cheek as she adds, "But I'll always worry. I wonder how long it'll be. I'll worry about... where you are. What you're experiencing. If you're..." She reaches over to press her hand to Jon's chest, "If you're alright. I mean, I'll never really know what shape you'll come back to me in, but no matter what... I'll be here to help you through it, Mariposa. I just- If I don't know what you're going through, I'll worry."     She gives on a tight smile, and looks down at her meal before she adds, "Anyways, it's a good thing we had all that paperwork taken care of. It was good knowing I didn't have to worry about- if anyone would try to take custody of Agnes, or if I wouldn't be able to make medical decisions for her, or whatever. It's good to have."
Jonathan Sims	"Well, that's why I thought of it," Jon replies with a smile. "I know how hard it is. Trust me--I never knew what Martin was up to most of the time, and he couldn't even tell me when he got back. He'd miss a birthday or an anniversary, be gone for weeks, come home, and just say 'work was rough' because he /couldn't/ tell me what he'd been doing, or even whether it was dangerous or utterly boring."     A pause. "I miss him," they say softly. "I wish he'd just come home." They sigh, and shake their head.     Then, a little more briskly, "Well. Alright. Let's eat, and you can tell me what you did while I was gone--and then I'll shower and change, and we can try out the DDR system? See if I can beat you or not, hmm?"
Cael Becker	"I know you do," Cael answers, leaning in against Jon. "He'll be back - with some //wild// stories, that will live forever in the Archive." She gives them a reasuring smile. "And... in the meantime, you won't be alone. And whenever you miss him, you can tell me stupid stories about your days in uni, or whatever. If that helps."     With a nudge she adds, "You won't beat me - not even with your year of training as the Campion of Hell. But you can try." She flashes Jon a challenging grin - and digs into her food with gusto.