abraxaslogs | in a house on fire [open]

[Networking is not Jayden's specialty, or really even a skill he would consider himself to have at all. But he has gotten to know--in the passing, friendly way of regular acquaintances--a few native Abraxans, including a librarian and a few shopkeepers, and of course Mag at the Inn. When he'd explained what he was trying to do with the idea of starting up private detective work, they'd all been very helpful in agreeing to point people his way if appropriate.

But he hadn't expected it to happen so fast, and mostly just by coincidence, as two days later Mag had fetched him to talk to a woman at the bar. It hadn't exactly been a great show of detective work on Jayden's end to solve the problem, as he'd already known the answer, and had only needed the woman's description of her missing sister to know what had happened to her. He hadn't known the names of many of the native Abraxans that had been abducted months previously, but he'd known them by sight.

Several hours later, Jayden's finally retreated to the Horizon, and is taking out his somewhat terrible mood on the new shooting range he's just summoned up. It's a simple setup, a small version of the practice range he'd used at work, and the handgun is the same he carried in his world, but although it being in the Horizon means he could make the whole process less loud or annoying, he doesn't.

So the gunshots ring out at full volume from his domain, pausing only for short periods of time to reload, something that also isn't necessary but is comfortingly familiar.]

Edited 2023-07-18 05:52 (UTC)

Truth be told, the sound of echoing gunfire galloping through his domain is entirely unwelcome. Despite carrying a gun for work, having even fired a gun on several occasions, it still sets Blake on edge to hear it. Attempts are made to ignore it, mostly under headphones and a hasty storytelling scrawl on a tattered notebook. It's only made Blake scowl up to this point, but as each shot feels like a jump scare that's waited decades to strike.

He lasts about one clip's worth before the distant pops drive him to move, discarding his lonely habits in favor of pulling on some shoes and a coat. Sliding through the door and finding rain, as expected, he tents his leather jacket over his head and heads to about the only place that makes sense.

The rain tapers as he closes in and while his hair remains dry, he still hasn't learned to kick the Chuck Taylors in favor of something more water-fast, so his socks are unpleasantly damp.

"What's all this racket, huh?" he says as he comes upon Jayden in the newly crafted space, still speckled with raindrops. This creation leaves Blake marveling, mostly because he can't (or won't) do this for himself; seeing it in practice, probably as intended, is worth noting. And Jayden, for maybe obvious reasons, is really good at it.

Jayden senses it when Blake enters his domain, so he doesn't immediately look up and isn't surprised when Blake approaches. But he does stop firing when Blake speaks, setting the gun down and looking over, noting the raindrops--was it raining in Blake's domain?--and wondering briefly if he should summon up a towel or something.

"Just practicing." He says, lamely, in the tone of someone trying to sound like they are definitely not bothered by something. "Sorry, was it botherin' you?" It isn't sarcastic, he really is genuinely asking.

"Not as much knowin' it's you," he says and that's more than he'd admit to most. Still, there aren't many places he wouldn't go to investigate gunshots, even in a place like the Horizon. It raises his hackles, makes him too antsy to do anything else but investigate.

He looks over the pistol, head tipped up to get a good glare at it, but he merely melts back into himself and takes a lean instead of saying what he wants to.

"A specific target practice?" Blake asks. It's almost hopeful. It's been a couple of days so he can't know for sure there isn't something wrong. And he's forced to question, of course he is, because he cares enough to worry even if he pretends otherwise.

Edited (clarity) 2023-07-20 02:59 (UTC)

Jayden offers a hint of a smile at the admission, because it's always a compliment to be told you're an exception in a good way, but he doesn't test his luck by resuming firing. Instead the gun stays where it is for now, and he shakes his head at the question.

"No one specific. Just kind of a bad day." It's also more than he'd normally admit, but this is something he knows Blake would understand, even if he's not yet sure he wants to get into it. "Even though I'm not sure practice in the Horizon would actually do anythin' for me in the outside world, seemed like a better use of my time than sulking." And he's done plenty of the latter on bad days so far.

Blake looks thoughtful, his hands pressing into the pockets of his jacket. It's moto-style, exactly something he would have had at home, but he's never quite felt its fit right, which is absurd considering his own mind made it up for him.

"Well, there's somethin' to be said for trainin' the mind, too, I guess," he finally says, smirking. He's not much for scientific research, but there's no time like the present to admit there's a lot of room to pick apart and use the magic of Abraxas if a person's determined to do so. (He's not unconvinced that Crane isn't determined himself to do exactly this.) "Could lend you a book if it's lack of options," Blake offers jokingly. He knows it's not about that, so he moves right along.

Stepping up to squint down at the target, he glances over his shoulder only briefly before leaving Jayden to emote in peace. "You expectin' trouble? Feel unsafe? Or just... lighter'n usual?" He recalls the weight of his gunbelt still, especially when his back hurts the most. Blake doesn't miss it, but he's nothing like the other GCPD folks so it makes sense he doesn't carry the typical peace officer rhetoric with him everywhere he goes.

The target is a standard human-ish silhouette printout, common for practice, and Jayden isn't the trick-shot type and so the holes are all in the center of mass, like they're supposed to be. Considering this was more an exercise to blow off some steam than real practice, the target isn't far enough that any of the shots would be particularly impressive, but on the other hand he also didn't miss at all.

It takes several seconds before he decides how to answer the question, not sure he wants to really get into it--either the answer to the questions asked, or the real reason for what's bothering him--but he also doesn't want to just totally dismiss what seems to be genuine effort and concern from Blake, especially since it seems he's fighting through some natural awkwardness to get there. Relatable.

So after a moment he sighs, crossing his arms. "More of a distraction than anythin' else. I've been workin' on finding a job, kind of like a private detective sort of thing, and it's going okay except that the first person I talked to was lookin' for someone that went missing around the same time we did."

He's getting a little better at being able to mention the whole ordeal without a huge amount of distancing or talking around the subject, but he still doesn't want to go into detail on it and imagines Blake doesn't want to either, so being brief and vague it still is. He probably doesn't need to get into the story of the missing person or her fate either, since it's likely not hard to guess, considering how few native Abraxans made it out of that whole thing.

What brackets Jayden leaves open, Blake has no issue closing. Dour feelings rush in like seawater and he finds his eyes pinging away to focus anywhere else while he processes. His throat bobs as he swallows and nods. "That's— a tough one," he agrees, deciding he wouldn't want to have a conversation like that himself.

Down the way the target stands fast despite its wounds and so do they. It's sad and frustrating that Blake often feels as thin and frail as that sheet of paper, as shot through. And still he persists. It's what he does best, he realizes, even if that had felt like a hell of a flaw when he'd wanted everything to end all those months ago.

But he isn't there anymore. And he was lucky enough to survive. Blake's been working on reminding himself of that, since there are others that can't say the same.

"It's a good idea. If you need help ever," he says, trying to lighten things a bit, "you just gotta call. I'm lookin' for work, but I'd help you for free. At least to get stuff off the ground. Or you get sick of my jokes."

Jayden's had worse conversations in terms of subject matter, especially since he tends to deal with cases of serial killers, and so many of those crimes are particularly terrible. But he's never had to try to console someone who lost a loved one during a traumatic experience that he'd been a victim of himself, rather than a third party coming into the situation as a professional. It's an entirely different experience, and one he doesn't want to go through again, even while a part of him is wondering if it might not be something he should be doing.

He'd thought about it before, about the people who had died there and who might be missing them, and even worse, who might not be missed at all, and don't they all deserve some sort of closure? Whether for the families, or the people who were lost themselves? He knows the answer is yes, and that he has the opportunity to perhaps help in that, if he can just work up the courage to do it.

But he doesn't want to talk about any of that right now, or at least not enough to want to put it on Blake, who is clearly--and understandably--dealing with his own issues related to the whole experience. Jayden's wondered, a few times, if it might only be them still affected--so many here seem to have just moved on and returned to daily life as if nothing had happened--and although he knows that's probably not the case, it's sometimes difficult to believe.

"Thanks. I'll let you know, though I'm not gonna use you as free labor." So it might have to wait until Jayden does have some money, especially since he ended up not charging for this particular case. It had seemed incredibly insensitive to do so, and he couldn't bring himself to accept even what she'd offered on her own.

He takes a deep breath, tries to follow the attempt to lighten the mood, and nods his head toward the shooting range. "Speakin' of bad jokes, you want to give it a shot?" Pun intended, of course. "I can switch out the guns if you want somethin' different, or you can do it yourself if you want." He won't try to prevent or undo any sort of willed changes to this part of his domain, if Blake would rather just summon up what he likes instead of describing it for Jayden to do.

At the offer, Blake shakes his head, folding in on himself tighter than is strictly necessary. He could do just fine, offering up the same sort of center-mass shots, but there are plenty of reasons he doesn't. Things that are hard enough to think about, let alone share.

"It's— not really my thing," he says, clearing his throat. "I mean, it's— Work was diff'rent, but this— doesn't relax me." Blake gestures around at their surroundings, finishing with the gun to emphasize his point. He had come looking for the source for a reason and it hadn't been because he was looking for a way to blow off some steam.

He shuffles a boot, the light crackle underfoot sounding far too loud. Blake splits the silence before Jayden can probe. "Here," he says, tugging a woven plait and offering it out. "It's nothin' really, but there's an extra if you want." It matches his own, more or less, made of a dyed cotton thread in shades of indigo. "For luck," Blake adds.

What's worse than being awkward? Being oblivious? Or obliviously awkward? Idiotic covers most of it because Blake isn't sure why he can't say he made it, just like can isn't sure why he can't say thank you for saving me with any words that feel appropriate enough.

That isn't the reaction Jayden's expecting, though it also isn't too difficult of a one to guess any number of likely reasons for. He feels a little bad for offering, and clearly bringing up some sort of bad memories, and is about to just entirely change the environment around them when suddenly Blake's talking again.

This time the subject is even more unexpected, but in a completely different way that almost gives Jayden whiplash, and it takes a moment to process. Is he completely misreading this situation, or is Blake giving him a friendship bracelet? A friendship bracelet made in the Horizon, which completely ruins Blake's attempt to explain the whole thing casually away as just having made an extra, considering it's just as easy to desummon something as it is to summon it?

It seems so. But that just makes the gesture even more touching, in a way.

"Nice choice a' colors." He says it casually, an attempt to keep Blake--and himself, really--from feeling too awkward about the whole thing, reaching out to take the offered bracelet with a small but genuine smile. "And thanks. I could use as much luck as I can get."

Which is probably an understatement. He wraps the bracelet around his left wrist--in the Horizon, the new scar from the ordeal a few months earlier doesn't exist, but he's still subconsciously thinking about covering it--and, as he's fiddling with how to get the knot tied, also wills the shooting range to disappear. In its place a small park springs up around them, grass and a small creek rolling out under the shade of a few large trees.

They're trying not to make this awkward and is it succeeding? Hard to say. Blake feels a minor tug of amusement followed by sympathetic frustration, eventually taking pity on Jayden and stepping up to help with the knot. When tied right, he knows it can be adjusted easily — two knots that slide together and apart — so he fusses at it with a critical eye and careful hands as he passively takes in the new surroundings.

"First this and then a walk in the park? People're gonna talk," he chides as he finishes the process and steps back. It's a nice change. Preferable to the range, but still not like any park from Blake's side of town. Hands shoved back into his pockets — a habit that keeps him from fidgeting — he turns to investigate the grass with the tip of his shoe. Is that a stream he hears? Never mind that trees feel taller and greener than he remembers trees could be.

"Y'know, I said it's for luck, not gettin' lucky, right?" The quiet chuckle is a ghost of what wants to come out. "Just to be clear," he adds, playfully punching Jayden's arm. In good company and feeling happy and secure, he's unreasonably willing to make a fool of himself (and his friends), so this is progress, believe it or not.

Jayden gives up the battle with the bracelet when Blake steps in, letting him handle getting it adjusted, the ever-present awkwardness only more noticeable in that this doesn't feel as awkward as it maybe should have. Which is strange, but not in a bad way.

He rolls his eyes in genuine amusement at the first comment about people talking, because okay, it is funny, and if anyone knew about this other than them people would definitely talk. But as Blake continues, even though clearly in jest, it becomes enough of a topic that brushing past it with just an eyeroll would be notable. Like he's hiding something, which he is, as both truthful responses he could give are not really ones he's willing to offer.

So instead, he falls back on an old strategy. "Hey, have you seen my face? I don't need any help with that sorta' luck." He says it with an annoying grin and obviously in jest, fake narcissism usually resulting in a laugh from whoever he's talking to and the topic moving on. But Jayden also usually tries this on people who don't know him very well, and won't immediately notice what an obviously premeditated deflection this is.

Edited 2023-07-26 05:14 (UTC)

As it happens, Blake is easily drawn into something resembling easy humor. If Jayden doesn't want a response he won't bring it up as far as Blake figures and that suits his purposes here just fine. He doesn't even turn to look at Jayden before an oh-ho slips out and he's nodding, sucking his teeth, clearly walking his way right into this conversation.

"Is that so? You don't need any help? Did they teach you guys to gloat in the FBI?" he asks, straight-faced while he strolls along. "Does 'pretty boy' have a hyphen? I wanna make sure I get it right when I write about this in my diary later."

It's a relief when Blake plays along, and so Jayden just rolls his eyes again as he falls into step alongside him. "Gloating comes naturally to FBI agents. We're screened for it as part of the personality exam."

Obviously not true, and he doesn't bother hiding the amused tone to his voice. "Spelling not so much. I woulda' guessed it was one word, but I wonder what spellcheck would say."

"Ugh, stop. I miss spell checkers. And predictive text. And telephones," he groans, because Blake is a child of the modern, technological era and while he was still a late adopter to anything resembling a smartphone, it's something he constantly misses while he's in this desert town.

"Stupid phone games, silly ringtones..." Blake's straight from 2012. Phones had ditched their keyboards and had become all-screen for good. Some came pre-loaded with whole movies while others boasted a thousand mega-pixel cameras for the first time. The iPhone 5 made its debut along with— "Tinder." He can't help himself and laughs. "Oh, right, but you wouldn't need somethin' like that, I forgot."

Blake sighs. "I'd do questionable things for a fuckin' calculator, dude. "

"What the hell is Tinder?" He can guess, based on the following comment, but Jayden likes technology and technological advancements and so he's curious when he hears about something he doesn't know of. It could simply be something he's never heard of, but it could also be something different between times or worlds, and that sort of thing is fascinating.

But, even more importantly--

"A calculator would be so useful. I've been doin' so much fuckin' math the old fashioned way and I realized I almost forgot how to do long division." Because really, who does long division by hand anymore? But math is only the tip of the tech iceberg. "There's this tech I use at home called ARI, and it has a whole lot of useful features, but the games and the calculator are what I'm missin' most lately." He hasn't needed the crime scene features--though he's sure he'll miss those soon enough--and the rest of it he's been able to recreate in the Horizon.

"Tinder's like— you've been doin' so many fuckin' mathematicians it almost makes you forgot how to multiply. The old-fashioned way," Blake pauses and then gestures vaguely. "Bad example, but it's a messaging app mostly used for hookups." Gindr predates Tinder, but who is Blake to obfuscate the point?

He's more interested in Jayden's admission, trying as he might to understand what ARI might stand for without asking. Artificial Reality comes to mind, but it's not in his wheelhouse and he doesn't want to assume.

"Was that for work? Or pleasure?" A little probing here won't hurt. "Is it not like a phone?"

Jayden gives Blake a look at the utterly roundabout way of explaining this, but it's an amused look, and he takes pity on Blake by not annoyingly asking if he knows this because he's used it. "Never heard of that one, but I do know about dating apps. Academically."

And moving on--

"For work, mostly. I've got a phone too, but ARI's a pair of glasses, like sunglasses." He considers, just for a moment, summoning a replica of ARI here, but he stops himself. There's no need to do that, and it might be better if he doesn't, and so he quickly keeps explaining to distract himself. "The point of 'em is to process evidence easier and more quickly; they can get fingerprint and DNA results almost instantly, and you can review and crosscheck evidence in a virtual reality environment. The environments are a lot like here."

Edited 2023-07-28 03:31 (UTC)

Blake huffs. "Sunglasses? Artificial intelligence? Makes you sound like a Terminator. Academically." His grin is becoming more shit-eating as he keeps up. It's a glimmer of something bright that he wants to chase, but only if he knows he'll catch it. Coming up short only promises to extend his disappointment.

"Academically," he repeats with disbelief, head shaking. It certainly gives him a lot to work with. "What you must think of me, some lowly app-user." There's Jayden's answer without ever asking. Maybe Blake knew it was on the tip of the other man's tongue. "Does that mean you had someone steady back home?"

Jayden grins a little at the idea of being a Terminator, even just academically, because sure it definitely sounds cool on paper but in practice he just ends up kind of looking like a dork. Wearing sunglasses outside at night or interacting with virtual reality that no one else can see are much more ridiculous in real life than on a movie screen.

He's about to make a teasing comment about how there's no shame in recognizing one's limits and using help, even if it's in the form of a dating app, but then Blake directly asks that last question and he falters for a moment. It's another of those situations and topics he has a waiting answer for, but that still doesn't prevent the brief rush of memories and emotions that he quickly shoves to the back of his mind, or the subconscious response of the Horizon environment to his mood as the temperature suddenly drops several degrees.

"I work too much for that sorta' thing." It's a true answer, sort of, or at least one part of an overall true answer, and he says it smoothly enough because of that. He also immediately turns it back around on Blake. "How's the app thing been going? Does it actually work?"

There's no missing the temperature change, although Blake has the good sense to avoid making comments. He'd learned his own mood controlled his little part of the Horizon in a similar way and it had only been after it had become obvious to nearly everyone else that he'd realized it himself. Embarrassing.

"Nah, I work too much, too," he admits, although he can't pretend like he hasn't tried it before. "Or, I did. But for the ones I tried? Yeah, it did what it was s'posed to. " He scratches at the stubble on his chin. "Short-term stuff. Hookups."

Jayden hasn't actually noticed the temperature drop, too focused on his thoughts and navigating the conversation to be paying attention to the environment, which is for the best. Thankfully Blake doesn't mention it, and lets the conversation move a little, which Jayden latches onto immediately.

"I bet that's convenient. Broader selection to choose from, anyway, and prescreening." Much easier than having to choose from whoever happens to be a bar or club, and more likely to find someone who matches in personality and interests rather than just appearance, which probably helps. Presumably. Not exactly an area he has expertise in. But any jokes aside, he isn't judging; there's no reason not to try new methods for something if they work, and it sounds like they do.

Squirrly bastard. Blake can appreciate such behavior, being unwilling to share all that much himself. But as more time passes, he finds he doesn't want to pull away like before, maybe because it feels like anything they might find to say can't be all that much worse than what had already happened to them. That's how he wants things to feel, anyway.

"In theory, it's convenient. But everyone's gotta pick which foot to put forward, right? And someone can look pretty good on paper. Like me," he says, shrugging. "Steady job, my own place, no debt, full head of hair. And then they meet me and one of two things happens: They want handcuffed and disciplined or they wanna get close enough to change my mind 'bout bein' a cop. Not that I lead with that, but I've heard I've got the look.

"Guess none of that matters here, right?" A smirk settles on his face and he leans down to pluck up some grass which he rolls between his fingers. "At least a few people might point that out. Possibly to us both." Hilda comes to mind almost immediately. She'd say what point is there in waiting? or something equally bright and charming, and neither would have a reason to argue.

Edited (typo) 2023-07-31 02:40 (UTC)

It's normally very easy for him to get away with being evasive, as people rarely bother to ask anything about him beyond brief surface-level questions, if even that. So he's hardly put any thought into whether he might actually be willing to talk if pressed, and if it might actually be a good thing; deflecting and repressing are automatic for him now.

But he certainly isn't thinking about that as Blake elaborates further, and he only barely manages to refrain from laughing at the thought of him having any of those conversations with random hookups. He's not sure which would actually be more awkward.

"Yeah. Bein' here's kind of like a complete reset." Which, in theory, could be a good thing in many ways, but in actuality has only felt bad. There's very little he likes about this world, and very few good experiences so far, with the only real positives being the people he's met. Otherwise, ending up in a new world where pretty much everything he's good at or experienced with is useless has not been his idea of a good time.

But he doesn't say that, even if it's probably clearly implied, instead remarking, "Maybe that's somethin' you should invent. Magical equivalent of a dating app. You'd probably get real rich real fast."

What seems awkward now doesn't even touch the kinds of stories Blake has in his back pocket. His first arrest alone had been one for the books, a memory he won't be forgetting any time soon and one that pales in comparison to most. It's not quaint, although he suspects that Jayden knows that feeling well enough himself, having obviously worked in some big cities.

"And be the guy responsible when those matches go wrong? Hell no," he laughs, shaking his head. He can imagine that magical terms and conditions would only get him so far and eventually, someone would come along carrying a hefty grudge that would land him in a sorrier place than he is. "But if you wanna steal the idea, Robocop, it's all yours."

"Thanks, maybe if the whole private detective thing goes south, I'll get into app development instead." Jayden laughs as well, because he has exactly zero intention of doing that; he'd rather stay a shitty bartender than do anything involved in matchmaking.

But that reminds him that he should ask--

"Speakin' of work though, how's that going? Doin' anything fun?"

Edited 2023-08-01 03:10 (UTC)

Blake huffs, shaking his head. "Who, me? Fun? Never." But they know that's not true even if they both share the ability to self-deprecate like it's a bodily function. (God forbid they ever compete.)

There's a pause where Blake fusses, taking off his jacket in this much more clement-feeling atmosphere. It's held in the crook of his arm, an item he could be rid of with a little mental nudge but one he keeps despite himself. Some people don't want reality, but Blake can't let go.

"I'm pickin' up part-time stuff now. You know the guy that chipped me? Viktor? Said I'd help him with some stuff. Sure as shit can use the money, so I'll keep lookin'. Rent's a bitch and it's hard to bring someone home when you don't got proper furniture."

They could probably create new and inventive turns of phrase never before known to humankind.

Jayden thinks nothing of Blake holding onto the jacket; sure, he could indeed get rid of it, and Jayden himself is very inclined to and comfortable with the more surreal manipulation of the Horizon environment. But he still often does these little 'normal' things himself, a subconscious way of hanging onto some sense of normalcy in the midst of everything else.

Picking up part time jobs is smart, and Jayden's a little impressed Blake's managed to find the energy to do so, as Jayden's only barely scraping up enough motivation to work on his new venture while still taking shifts as a terrible bartender at the Inn. He's very sure at this point that Mag is just taking pity on him, but he appreciates it.

"My first few months at the FBI I was using boxes for furniture, so I get it." First apartment after college, but before getting any real steady paychecks; it's a little weird to think about how similar the situation of being here is in many ways. But more importantly, "Congrats on findin' your own place, though. Bet it's nice to not worry about who you're runnin' into in the halls."

Admittedly, it hasn't been an easy choice to move. While Blake values his independence and it's something he's missed living at the inn, his whole life has been spent in close proximity to others. A tight groove, like a record, has kept him in a comfortable place. Now, in a completely different world with nothing but strangers (save for one very unfortunate Gothamite), it's hard to settle even minutely.

"Yeah, it's a bit nice for that, but also means I miss the people I do wanna see 'round." Jayden is on that list, although Blake makes no point in clarifying if that's not already immediately obvious by the quirk of a smile. "You'll have to come by some time. I'll even feed you."

It's the opposite for Jayden in that he prefers not to have close contacts, maintaining his distance from coworkers and generally not making friends or even acquaintances outside of work, at least not any time recently. But a part of the reason for that is the same reason he feels a strange combination of emotions at the invitation, not because the invitation itself bothers him--on the contrary, he appreciates that Blake would offer--but because he can distinctly remember the last time someone invited him to their place for dinner. It feels like a long time ago and yesterday all at once.

The temperature doesn't drop this time, but a wind does briefly pick up, and clouds begin to coalesce. This time, Jayden notices, and he looks up and frowns a moment before realizing he needs to answer Blake, doing so quickly in an attempt to play off his reaction. "How can I pass up the offer of free food?"

Blake notices. Jayden notices. Blake notices Jayden noticing.

"Oh, I can think of a lotta reasons," he says, his voice leaning a bit bemused, but not much. "And I wouldn't begrudge you any of 'em, don't worry."

He glances around them a little too purposefully, nose scrunched up as he turns his gaze skyward and gives Jayden whatever he needs to feel whatever he wants to feel.

This is too familiar and any more signs they're alike and Blake is going to start making some heavy assumptions. It's not even that he thinks Jayden doesn't want to spend time with him, but after everything they'd been through and all they've shared, it seems obvious enough that the both of them need a lot of thinking room to tear themselves down in the hopes of building back something stronger, something less transparent.

"You don't gotta decide now, anyway," Blake reasons, mostly because he'd have to pretend up the boxes to pretend up furniture, and that doesn't suit either of them. "But— some time." He snaps his fingers in an effort to tear the personal touch from his invitation. "We can celebrate when you get your business goin'."

Blake gives him another out, and Jayden appreciates it more than he can even acknowledge. It's doubtlessly obvious--and probably has been awhile now--that there are things he's hiding, and that Blake's willing to let him have the choice to keep doing so makes all of this a lot easier. It also, almost paradoxically, makes him feel less pressure and need to keep everything so hidden, even if he's certainly not ready to talk about any of it just yet. But perhaps someday.

For now, though, he takes a deep breath and nods, the sky clearing again as he looks over at Blake. "Sounds like a plan. I'm hopin' to have that be sooner rather than later, but I'm not really counting this first case; I barely did any work and I didn't get paid, so."

He says it jokingly, despite how hard that whole conversation had been, because there is some humor in that it really doesn't count. All that mental and emotional effort and all he got for it was a bad mood, though underneath that, perhaps a sense of accomplishment all the same.

"But still, look at us, bein' contributing members of society."

That Jayden prefers to go back to the unfortunate circumstances of his pre-opening case-that-isn't-a-case instead of continuing their discussion about a simple get-together certainly paints the man in a different light. It hits close to home — more than Blake would like to admit even to himself — and maybe that's a good thing; if nothing else, it means they'll find the same page more often than not. That's the sense he gets, anyway.

"Yeah, that's us, all right," he agrees as he looks around at this very representation used to offset the society they're both avoiding. Ironic. "Had to happen eventually."

He gives Jayden a light punch to the arm and then tips his head the way he came. Probably time to roll on, he says without saying it, even if he always feels strange letting go.

(Does Jayden wonder if this will be the last time they ever see each other? Blake does. He flashes back to those early hours of their relationship and little has changed, except he finds he cares and worries all that much more, and takes care of himself so much less. That he acknowledges it at all is due to people like Jayden and Hilda who have grown more important as Blake's tried harder and harder to let go.)

in a house on fire [open]

Horizon [open!]

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cw: reference to suicidal thoughts

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