#thread 27

This is a place where no one knows who you are. That's the magic of it, isn't it? That there is a level of anonymity, what happens in this room stays here. That's why there's a skip of a heartbeat, a consideration for who they could become.

The young adult reaches the center of the room, their hand to their mask as they adjust it. There's a smile, a bow, and a hand extended at the nearest person who does not yet seem to have a partner. It's a bit overwhelming, but they can try on being someone else -- just to finally and truly see who they really are.

Fucking island... Magic was causing all kinds of problems and Jody was doing his bed for damage control at home. He needed a walk, he needed to get out of the house...

He still looked 60. Other things had passed in 24 hours but here he was still feeling... older than he should. And he had some odd need to go see Steele and show them that they were wrong. He was going to get old. He wasn’t like whatever Steele had thought he was. He wasn’t as supernatural as people thought. He was cursed. Unlucky. Maybe possessed. He hated to think it. So much of his reading had pointed to that. But he couldn’t face it. It had to be something else.

And his father’s ghost wasn’t helping any. Andrew Linnel didn’t know anymore than his son. Even now. Andrew’s image trailed behind, but not too far. Mouse kept glancing back at the ghost of a man who was even younger than Jody’s actual age.

Jody hadn’t spoken to Steele in a good long while and that needed to change. He didn’t know if he even wanted to get back with them... if that were even possible. He knew he just had to see them. Even if it was under weird circumstances.

Jody knocked on the door to their place, prefacing as soon as Steele opened the door. “It’s island magic. I’m old. And I will actually probably look like this someday, Steele. I never knew where you got the idea I wouldn’t age. This is it. And... I felt like you should see that. Or that-- maybe we should actually talk.”

[text] Hey no worries. It just so happens I work at a bar. Exotic Tastes. It’s a vampire bar, but we serve regular/super alcohol too.

[text] There’s also Ciaran’s pub. Dark Moon Pub. If you want a real pub. And actual food.

[text] Is everything okay? 

Text: I'm perfectly fine, Tommy.

{Text to Jody} I'm glad you enjoyed the gifts. Apologizing? Save to assume you are back to yourself?  Either way, you have nothing to apologize for. ~Steele 

[text] For now, seems so.

Jody swallowed hard. He didn’t know where he was. He certainly wouldn’t be at A Party. With this many people. He was sure he saw Judy a second ago but... she was gone. If it was her. He had followed someone who looked like her anyway but as soon as he entered the kitchen it was just him and... this other boy who certainly wasn’t his foster sister.

“Hi,” Jody gave Elijah a small wave, his voice soft and timid. He tipped his black cowboy hat up slightly, feeling uncomfortable in the costume, nevermind the whole dang party. At least it was just the two of them here.

“Sorry, have you seen a-- a black girl, um, dark skin tone with long braids? I think she was wearing a green dress? A dark green dress.” Jody paused, thinking again. “No, um, she-- her hair was different. It was loose. She must’ve... had it done for the party. I don’t-- I think I must’ve... must’ve drank something bad. I thought I saw her. It’s my sister. Judith. Do you know her?”

But he was avoiding them. Too scared to know what had gone on these past few months.

Months.

He couldn’t avoid the house forever and finally he gave in, opening the very few gifts left for him that he’d obviously completely ignored in his dark state. He felt normal... but his fingers were still black. His eyes stayed normal. His vision was monochromatic still, but he checked in the mirror every morning. It was awful. This wasn’t ‘normal’. Not for him.

“B7--?”

Judy’s birthday card fell out of his shaking hands. He’d recognized her handwriting, but tried to tell himself she’d sent him something. That Layla or Elijah had opened the package and set it up as a nice presentation for him... But no, it wasn’t that. She was here. And she was a slave. And he couldn’t protect her, claiming Elijah so recently. And everything he might’ve done to the boy, he couldn’t in good conscience unclaim him without making  things up to him.

He ran to the basements. And he didn’t run, not with his bad back. He was sweating by the time he got there, in terrible pain. Every step down to the basement hurt, but he forced himself. He hated the basement. Judy wouldn’t have been surprised.

“Judy!” Jody called, gripping the railing, then snapped at a guard, “I want Judy Green up here with me! Now!” He sounded angry. And he was. He took a deep breath, not wanting the darkness to take over. Wanting to talk to her as himself... and not loose another few months.

[text] Okay. See you then.

[text] Thanks for the invite.

Dhani had no real reason not to go. And he knew he wouldn’t even have to ask Quinten, they didn’t have anything planned. Passover wasn’t even something him and Dad celebrated anymore since Bubbe died, and mostly because Dhani had been here ever since. He was usually home for Hanukah now, of course, and Shavuot because it was so close to his birthday, but hardly anyone he knew, or Dad knew, actually practiced/celebrated that. Dad occasionally would make a cheesecake and claim it was for the holiday, but mostly Dhani figured it was because they just both liked cheesecake so much and it had been mom’s favorite. An excuse to get one not just on her birthday and wish she was with them.

Bubbe had been the one to pester Dad into going to temple, and she always dragged Dhani along if he slept over on the weekends, especially when he was younger. But she didn’t always go, and Dad only went on holidays otherwise.

Dhani liked Leib. A lot more than he wanted to. The man was kind, he was cool, he was so fucking different and he loved it. He was so proud to be Jewish. And maybe that bothered Dhani just a little; it reminded him of the disconnect between himself and his father, and his father’s mother. That he was adopted. That horrible awful rift that his Bubbe had created when that had happened. The one she spent most of Dhani’s life making up for, spurred by the time limited on the last few years of his mother’s life. Maybe part of him really hadn’t forgiven his grandmother for that lost time. For the things she’d said not in her right mind towards the end of her life. 

Aside from the fact that Dhani didn’t want to depend on Leib as a mentor only to have him leave. That he’d be disappointed, massively, by someone who claimed to care about him. He didn’t want to get close to Leib because he knew he desperately wanted to. He wanted to fill the void Aleksey and Emerson had left, both men in his position, both equally intriguing and amazing and mysterious and dazzling in their own ways. Men Dhani had seen and thought they were something to aspire to, men Dhani had admired, even loved, for the obstacles they had faced in life. Leib fit so much into that same category it scared Dhani. Maybe third time was a charm... Could he let himself risk it?

He showed up to Leib’s place with a bottle of wine, about ten minutes late, getting side tracked about a lengthy article on his phone in the middle of the grocery store trying to figure out what made certain wines kosher before realizing the bottles that were had the usual handy symbol on the bottle indicating they were. Something Dhani usually never paid attention to.