Doing the Rounds [Micah

[Jesse Fforde]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Jesse Fforde> When Jesse had first awoken, he had not been himself. Mentally, yes, his mood might have even improved a little. There are some things that were bothering him before his trip to the Shadow Realm which he has failed to think of since returning, and his woes number in the very few, and the very unimportant. Physically, however, he’d taken quite a while to get back to normal - and even now his skin still remains a deathly pale, blue tinged under his eyes and over his lips, the ink of his tattoos stark against the corpse-like pallor. Still, it’s a far cry better than the emaciated, shrivelled old-man look that he had sported in the first few hours.

At least now, when he dresses, the belt fits normally, rather than having to tighten it. The jeans no longer irritate his skin, nor does the white tank top as he pulls it over his head. Where the night before simple actions caused his starving muscles to ache, now he moves with his usual robust litheness, with energy he doesn’t know what to do with.

He leaves Grey in bed as he heads out the door, pulling a leather jacket from cupboard before he goes. He has promised to return to her soon; he just needs to check in with a few things and let others know that he is around - and really, he himself is curious to see what - if anything - has changed in the past week. Rather than tome to the Eyrie, he takes the bike, enjoying the feel of the whipping wind against his skin. Only once outside does he use the tome to get to the elevator, which will take him up to the second floor. He pulls the phone from his pocket and texts Micah:

”Hey man. You around the Eyrie?”

<Micah> He’d tried to stay awake long enough to make sure Zoey got into the Eyrie. Or, to be sure that she got the bag that he’d sent Bunny to the morgue with. The time for her to be able to return had come and gone, and he just wasn’t able to stay awake long enough for Bunny to let him know it was safe to summon Zoey home. Not that she needed it, she had her tome and could make it back just fine but he’d wanted to be there for her when she emerged from the realm.

It had been a rough week and the events of the entire week had taken their toll. From losing Jesse, Zoey, and Reanna to the knock down blow out fight he’d had with Eve, to the visit he had had with Grey - it had all caught up with him and he just kind of passed out sitting by the ritual altar. When he woke though, Zoey was at his side - dressed thank **** for that so Bunny must have gotten there in time. He’d checked her over and realized she was low on blood and still critical. With Nishaa’s help they managed to get her blood up and she started to look a little better. Enough that he was able to not feel guilty for heading out to take a run through the sewers.

He’d just gotten back in and was in the process of selling his loot when the phone in his pocket vibrated. Jesse flashed across the screen and Micah didn’t hesitate to open the text to read it, sending one back seconds later. Yeah, I’m lurking on the second floor.

<Jesse Fforde> Just as he receives Micah’s reply, the elevator stops and the doors slide open. There had been no need to even text Micah, really, because there he is, right in front of Jesse. Not directly, of course, but there’s no mistaking the figure on the far side of the second floor, waiting by the shop’s counter. Jesse tucks his phone into his pocket and ducks through the elevator door, making his way toward his cousin.

Blue eyes dance over the items that Micah is selling, before returning to Micah himself. Jesse leans casually against the counter as he nods his greeting. Why had he come to Micah, first? There are reasons, Jesse knows - Micah, aside from Velveteen, is one of the few who would be in the know about most things that had happened in the past week, and thus one of the best sources for information. Maybe he wants to check in on Micah, too - for all the man’s bravado, there’d have to still be times that he needs support. There’s also that question that seems to have nagged Jesse ever since he’d seen Bunny, passing him by as he left the morgue. Why Bunny? Why not Micah himself?

There are plenty of questions, all of which Jesse contains as he lifts his chin in greeting.

“Sup?”

<Micah> He slid the phone back in his pocket and dumped the bag of extra loot he’d been carrying around with him for days. If anyone asked why he felt the need to have so much crap on him he would simply say that he liked to be prepared for anything. Truth of the matter was, Micah was a bit of a packrat. He didn’t like getting rid of anything because there was always those two simple words - what if? And because he kept everything it had saved his *** more than a few times. Couldn’t be too careful after all.

He heard the elevator doors slide open and didn’t have to turn around to see that it was Jesse. Micah continued with his task, sorting and counting out the extras of what he had to sell. The extras were pushed towards the shady shopkeeper and the rest was returned to the bag at his feet. He cast a sidelong glance at his cousin and waited for the man behind the counter to give him his cash. That was shoved into his pocket for the time being. Only person who would stick their hand in his pocket was Vel. It had become a game to them, to see how much the other could get before they got caught. He gave a slight nod in Jesse’s direction. “Hey asshole. Welcome home.”

<Jesse Fforde> Jesse sighs and rolls his eyes in mock irritation. “People and their fascination with my ***, I’ll never understand it,” he says with a grin, standing back as Micah concludes his business and pockets his cash. There were a few different places on the second floor where they could sit and talk; feeling the constant need for fresh air, Jesse began to lead them toward the balcony. He drags one of the numerous chairs with him, wanting to get comfortable. There have been too many times where meetings between himself and Micah have been tense or fraught with emotions that neither of them really want to show or share. Jesse doesn’t think this will be one of those times, but one can never be too certain.

He doesn’t ask whether Micah has to time to sit and chat. He just assumes that Micah will know that’s what Jesse’s after - given the text message, and all.

“Grey told me she saw you. Thank you,” Jesse says as he walks, turning to level Micah with a serious gaze as he utters the last words. Thank you. The appreciation is genuine. The Shadow Realm was a walk in the park for Jesse, generally, but the one anxiety he had was for Grey. Anxious, and impatient, which in turn spurred bouts of restlessness and flares of temper. It soothed him to learn that his wishes had, to some extent, been seen to.

<Micah> He snorted. “Dude I ain’t interested in your ***. Personally I think mine’s better anyways.” He couldn’t help himself. And since he sucked at displaying emotion to most people, snark was as good as it was gonna get. He didn’t have a problem following Jesse towards the balcony. Not that he thought that they’d be talking about top secret **** but Micah wasn’t one to like it when people overheard his conversations. Instead of taking a seat he chose to lean against the railing.

He found himself scrutinizing the necromancer, checking him over for visible wounds and finding him no worse for wear Micah let himself relax a bit. Then Jesse mentioned Grey. Micah felt bad for more or less abandoning her in the middle of Adrenaline but it was hard to look her in the eye. He felt like he was partially to blame for Jesse’s death but never would he voice that. “She had some things...zombie ears and relics. My supply of ears was getting low and I’d actually been thinking of asking her if she had any.” His hands gripped the railing tightly. “You umm...you doin alright after being down there?” There was no need to elaborate on what that down there was.

<Jesse Fforde> Where Micah leans, Jesse throws himself down into the chair, lounging, because he’s completely at home here. His feet fint balance against the railings, and his arms lay slack over the arm rests. There’s a gleam in his eye as Micah asks him how he’s doing, and the grin on the Jesse’s lips broadens. His hands turn, palms upright as he shrugs.

“Perfectly fine. Right as rain. I really don’t understand what the fuss is,” he says. Others seem to freak out in the Shadow Realm; even Velveteen, the last time Jesse had seen her down there, had run off in a hurry, having barely answered the questions that he and Zoey had had. A light frown mars his serene features as he remembers it - first question off the queue:

“Hey, is Velveteen okay? She came to… visit, and seemed a bit off,” he says. It’s hard, sometimes, to think of Velveteen as someone who might need help, or care. She is the glue that holds the faction together, and Jesse’s unsure whether he’s ever seen her in a moment of weakness. Sure, they’ve had some deeper heart to hearts, but normally they concern his own woes rather than hers. It crosses his mind that maybe she doesn’t care for anyone else to witness her weakness - and he understands completely. Still, he’s curious.

<Micah> Micah wanted to smack that grin off of Jesse’s face. Of course he showed a small bit of concern for his family member and it was amusing. Though, as he thought about it, in a way it was. Normally Micah didn’t care about that kind of ****, didn’t show concern for others. Jesse wasn’t just one of those others though, he was family and if someone wasn’t used to seeing him show concern it could be amusing. Maybe. He chose to ignore the grin. For now.

“Vel?” Micah frowned and thought the question over. He knew that Vel had had a hard time with the decision Zoey, Jesse and Reanna had made. She felt guilty, even though she had nothing to feel guilty for. Had nothing to feel bad about. Every last person in that faction willingly stepped in front of her, refusing to let her fight with as wounded as she had been. Willingly. She hadn’t forced any of them. “She’s….alright. Wishes that you guys hadn’t done what you did but I think I managed to get her to see that it wasn’t her fault.”

<Jesse Fforde> Jesse is still frowning, just that little bit. Silence falls for a few seconds as he absorbs what Micah has to say. The first signs of irritation begin to curl around inside of Jesse, but he doesn’t speak rashly. He doesn’t speak out of turn. He doesn’t let anger get the better of him just yet. She wishes they hadn’t done what they had done? Dying for the faction, to uphold the honour that others are so quick to accuse them of having none of - had that somehow displeased Velveteen? But then fault is brought into it and Jesse shakes his head.

“It’s no one’s fault. We knew what we were getting in to. We showed those fucks that we are honourable - please, ****, don’t let me be remembered for having died. I took two of those asswads down with me. I’d prefer to be remembered for that, please?” he says. His words may sound harsh but there is still a hint of humour; still that steady gleam in his eye to show that he doesn’t give two fucks that he died, but he might get angry if somehow he’s made to think it was for nothing.

“Honestly, dude - it’s just a week. We’re weren’t dead. Just taking a bit of siesta,” he says. “It’s no big deal. At least, I don’t think it should be.”

<Micah> Jesse just got things at times. This was one of those times. “I think we all had our moments this week where we wished it had gone differently. There isn’t a single one of us that doesn’t appreciate what you guys did. Standing up for faction and defending one of your faction mates isn’t ever something to be ashamed of. No it’s more along the lines of you guys did the honorable thing - no powers, nothing to give you an advantage but the same wasn’t given to you.” And they said that Tytonidae had no honor. What a load of ******** that was.

He nodded then. “Yeah I know it was just a week and I’m sure that was something that most of us were able to hold on to, something to keep us going.” It wasn’t the first time Micah had lost family, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last. It was however, the first time both his daughter and his cousin had been in there but he did get some measure of comfort knowing that they weren’t alone. They had each other, and Reanna too. “How’d Zoey hold up? She sent me a couple cryptic messages that led me to believe someone was fuckin with her down there.”

<Jesse Fforde> Jesse wants to laugh; it all seems to heavy, far too sincere. Something to keep us going, Micah says, as if it had all been some massive tragedy. Jesse still can’t wrap his head around it - maybe it’s his own fascination with death. Maybe that need he’d had not long ago, that urge to die, helps him in ways that others cannot comprehend. Maybe he doesn’t see death the way they do. Maybe it is a big thing for them, where for him it’s just a holiday.

He catches himself at the last second; before the laughter can spill. Micah mentions Zoey and Jesse clears his throat. Of course - an actual daughter. Not a turned childe, but Micah’s flesh and blood daughter had been slaughtered in front of her father’s eyes. Sometimes Jesse can be accused of being insensitive but this, at least, he can choose to respect. Perhaps it’s not such a great idea to make fun of Micah’s grief over his own daughter. Jesse’s head bobs in a nod.

“Emmanuel Broussard. We were trapped with him for a while - but she was there with Reanna and I. And once we were free I found Zoey again - tried to bring as many spirits to her as I could. Speaking of…” he perks up, head canted to the side. “I saw Bunny at the morgue on my way out. Why Bunny? Why didn’t you go in yourself?” he asks. It’s curiosity, mainly. Jesse hadn’t expected any fanfare. Hell, he hadn’t expected anyone to be waiting for him at all, only because he doesn’t think it was such a big deal. The bond between Micah and Zoey, however, that’s different. He’d have expected Micah himself to be waiting for his daughter, rather than Micah’s bubbly blonde thrall.

<Micah> Now that was a name he hadn’t heard in ages. Emmanuel Broussard. That was how he’d met his wife formally, and had been asked to join Tytonidae. Vel had asked him to help with the attack on the Broussard place and he had agreed, pissing Phoenix off in the process as she had asked too. It had been a stroke of luck that Micah had accepted Vel’s offer first. Once the last Broussard was killed he had left that meeting only to have Vel catch up with him and offer him a chance at joining Ty formally. It had taken a month for him to get back to her and tell her that he’d like the chance to do so. From time to time she liked to bring that month up telling him that it had driven her crazy to have to wait so long for an answer from him. “Well he was a dick while he was alive, I’m not surprised he’s still a dick in death.”

Bunny was brought up then. It was an unexpected question. Micah honestly thought everyone knew his reason for avoiding the morgue. “I…..” He actually stuttered trying to get his reply out. Truthfully it was a little embarrassing. His wife owned the damn place it shouldn’t be such a huge deal but it was. Drawing in a breath he didn’t need, he just spit it out. “That place terrifies the **** outta me.” There. Short and to the point.

[Micah]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--


<Jesse Fforde> Jesse snorts. At first he thinks that Micah is ******* with him. Only when he realises that Micah is, indeed, serious, do Jesse’s eyes widen with obvious curiosity. There’s no disdain - maybe a bit of surprise, but he’s not really judging Micah. It’s good to know these things - the fears of others.

“Seriously?” he asks, gaze not once slipping from Micah’s face, as if searching for an answer that Micah might not give. It is a rhetorical question, of course - Jesse doesn’t really expect Micah to answer it. “We’re dead, man. Common perception seems to think we’re dead, anyway,” he shakes his head. Again, Jesse realises there might be some kind of divide. Morgues are places that fascinate Jesse, too - places within which cadavers can be cut up and examined. He’d have loved his own morgue, to be able to go poking around in dead bodies. He’d been called a freak when he was a kid because he’d enjoyed poking around in the remains of roadkill. Of course, those who called him names soon regretted it.

Again, he shakes his head. Maybe it’s not his place to ask. he leans back in his chair and throws his hands up in a way that says you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. There’s got to be a story behind it. It can’t be completely irrational, right? But it’s not Jesse’s place to pry.

<Micah> The snort he’d expected but the laughter he’d been waiting on never came. It wouldn’t have bothered him. In fact Vel got quite the kick out of it, teasing him endlessly when events were held in the realm. He never walked through the morgue, choosing to enter through the sewer or having someone summon him in. Oh he’d certainly -tried- to go through the lobby and through the back and at first he was alright with it. Creeped him the **** out but he managed. But as time had gone on the unease grew and now if he tried he froze on the spot and just couldn’t go any further unless it was going back out.

“Dead serious. Place is ******* creepy. Vel doesn’t even tell me if she goes there but I always know. It’s the smell.” A visible shudder ran through him at the mention of that smell. “I know we’re dead in a sense but its the memories. All those chemicals and **** they use in there reminds me of the night my mother died. You can just smell the death that clings to every available surface. It’s cloying and just….yeah.” Just the thought of that ******* place was clearly making him uncomfortable. “I know it doesn’t make any sense. But it is what it is.”

<Jesse Fforde> “It is what it is,” Jesse agrees, nodding serenely even though there is the hint of a smile on his lips. He had laughed a lot since coming back; somehow, his mood is lighter. It’s not something that he’s stopped to examine or think about. But he feels a lot more like himself. Less victim to emotions that he does not want or need. He is happy. He is content. The breeze drifting through the trees provides the fresh air that he had wanted; all that they need is a couple of beers and they could just be two cousins chatting on the deck. Alas, beer cannot be had.

Jesse doesn’t bother explaining to Micah that it’s exactly the smell of death that he himself likes about the morgue. Maybe in another life Jesse should have been a mortician, but given his own childhood, the training that might have been required for such a profession was not something he’d have ever thought to pick up, nor would he have been able to pay for it. And besides, it was far too quiet a profession. Better to just keep that kind of thing as a hobby - a mere fascination.

“So what else? Is there anything else that’s happened over the last week that I should know about?” he asks. Better to be kept in the loop than staying out of it.

<Micah> He was relieved that the subject seemed to be dropped in favor of a change of subject. Maybe in time Micah would be able to get over the ridiculous fear that he had, but it wouldn’t be anytime soon. That much he knew. So until that time he’d stick to going in through the sewers or having someone haul his *** around by way of a summons. No big deal.

“Nah. Actually been a quiet week. The night after we did manage to get that human and that vampire thrall. The last two that had been part of the attack on Nishaa. That’s it.” That hunt had been very business-like. No one had asked questions and they had gotten it done and over with pretty damn quick. Everyone had been in a somber mood, the absence of their fellow comrades glaringly obvious. Micah also left out the fight he’d had with Every. The mere thought of that girl had his blood boiling and rage beginning to try and claw its way to the surface, something that he knew he couldn’t let fester or it would end up biting him in the ***.

<Jesse Fforde> “Well that’s boring,” Jesse says, though he’s not completely serious. He’s not the kind to seek gossip, or to wallow in it. When he asks whether anything else has happened, he refers only to the important things; things that might affect the family or the faction. He has no interest in the squabbles between others, or the personal lives that they themselves may not want all and sundry to be aware of.

He turns his gaze to the trees; the breeze is cold, but not as cold as it could be. It’s crisp and sharp but not as sharp as ten million knives trying to delve beneath the skin, as it could be in Winter. This kind of cold is pleasant, in comparison. There are no stars - clouds obscure the sky. But that’s okay. There’s still nuance of colour in the shadows; the darker hues of blues and greens. That’s one other thing that Jesse might have missed without realising - colour. He pulls in a breath and turns back to Micah.

“One of these days you need to give me a tattoo,” Jesse says. He wants another on his neck, and though he could do it himself in the mirror, it’s probably not such a great idea. “Hope. Right here,” he points to the area above the eye that’s etched over his Adam’s Apple. It’s something he’s wanted ever since Velveteen and Micah had managed to pull him back from the abyss; ever since he’d realised just how much Grey means to him. He just hasn’t got around to asking Micah yet. “Think it’s something you can manage?”

<Micah> “Boring..yeah you can say that. Ain’t always a bad thing though.” Truthfully he was glad nothing major had happened. The night that they’d finished the fight they’d started in defense of Nishaa Micah and Vel had packed a bag and left, taking a few nights off leaving Ariadne in charge of the faction. It was time that they had both needed, and it helped keep them both sane.

Micah blinked at Jesse’s next words. A tattoo? “Course I can. Have to admit Im a lil surprised that you asked me. Going by all that ink you’re already sporting you seem to be as picky as I am when it comes to an artist.” Now that Jesse had brought it up. “Tell ya what. I’ll give you one, but you gotta do the same for me. Before Vel does it herself.” That had disaster written all over it. He’d offered to teach her but they hadn’t gotten around to doing that. Just been too busy. “Don’t know what I want yet but soon as I do I’ll be giving you a call. Deal?”

<Jesse Fforde> “Aw, what is that? Is that modesty, Micah? You think I don’t think you’re good enough?” Jesse smirks. “So cute,” he chortles. There’s no reason why he hasn’t asked Micah yet; it’s just that, beyond practicing on his own legs, Jesse hasn’t had the time to think much about tattoos, or to approach anyone else to get any. He’s too busy drawing up his own designs and etching them onto other people. He nods, however, at the end of his teasing quip.

“It’s a deal. Are you going to make me wait for mine until you’re ready for yours?” he asks with an arch of a brow. He wondered whether it was something that Velveteen wanted Micah to have, thus why there’s the threat of her doing it herself. But Jesse doesn’t ask.

<Micah> He gave his cousin the finger. “**** you asshole.” There was no heat behind the words but a whole lot of amusement. He could have guessed that Jesse would have taken that statement and ran with it. “I ain’t cute!” Micah cringed. That word….cute. It made him sneer. He wasn’t cute. Though Vel would argue with him otherwise. She got tons of amusement watching him squirm by using that term.

He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “Nah ain’t gotta wait for me to make up my mind. Whenever you have an idea or have a design just shoot me a line and we’ll get it set up.” No sense in making Jesse wait. It could be months before Micah found something that he wanted enough to have it put into ink someone on his body.

<Jesse Fforde> Jesse laughs. This is the kind of banter that he tries to achieve on the Crownet, and which people take too seriously. He’s decided to not try this kind of banter on the forum anymore; it seems that tone of voice and facial expression is required to pull it off completely. Though, given both Micah and Velveteen’s welcome home messages, he’s wondering whether at least two people are starting to recognise his kind humour when they see it.

“Old man, you need to clear out your ears! This is me ‘shooting you a line’. I already know what I want - Hope. Right here,” he repeats, pointing to the area under his neck, above the eye etched over his Adam’s Apple. “Cursive writing. Something with a flourish,” Jesse says. He’s drawn the word a couple of times himself, the designs which he will show Micah, but he’ll also welcome Micah’s professional opinion. “You’re a professional, man. I trust your judgment,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders.

<Micah> “Who the **** you calling old you fuckin prick? You wanna pick on the old person in my marriage you ain’t talkin to the right person. That’s Vel. She’s older than me, hence the nickname of Cougar.” It felt good to be sitting here going back and forth like this with Jesse. Micah would be the first to admit that he took a lot of the things Jesse said the wrong way, thinking he was being a dick when he was only fuckin around. After the last time, Micah told himself that he’d try not to be so judgemental. It wasn’t as difficult as he thought it might be.

“With a flourish eh? Are you one of them fancy boys Jesse?” If Jesse could land a few snarky digs then Micah could do so as well. “Doesn’t sound too difficult. When were you wantin to get this done? Don’t think I got anything really major on the books unless Vel decides she wants me to get started on the back piece she had be do for her. Hasn’t mentioned it though so, pick your poison, or some ****.”

<Jesse Fforde> Tit for tat. Jesse doesn’t expect to be let off easy, with all the teasing jabs he’s throwing in Micah’s direction. The smirk only brightens his expression as Micah suggests that Jesse talk to Velveteen, and call her old. Touche, the canting nod of Jesse’s head seems to say. “If we’re going to be bringing our other halves into it, you can talk to Grey and find out just how much of a fancy boy I am. Or how much I’m not, as the case should be,” he says. He can only imagine the look on Grey’s face, should Micah come questioning her about her sex life.

“Whenever, man. I’ve wanted it for a while. Maybe over the next week sometime, if it stays as quiet as you say it has been the past week,” he says. Not only had he and the other Tytonidae members come back, but he assumes all those they managed to take out on the same night will be back, too - will they stay quiet? Will they keep to an honourable code or will there be another round of duels before the week has ended? Better, perhaps, to lock in an appointment with Micah sooner rather than later.

<Micah> “**** no man. She’s a feisty one. Don’t think I’ve forgotten the way she had a go at Szabina on the CrowNet. Ain’t gonna approach her and ask her anything of the sort.” No way in hell would he ask Grey anything of the sort. All teasing aside he had a lot of respect for both Grey and Jesse. What they got up to in their own time wasn’t anyone’s business but theirs. And Vel would have his head if he asked Jesse’s woman anything like that, and he didn’t blame her either.

“Pretty sure my week is free but I can double check and get back to you.” He frowned thoughtfully. “On second thought how about you just pick a day and a time and I’ll switch things around if there is any sort of conflict.” It was the best option he could offer. It might be quiet as of now but that could change in an instant.

<Jesse Fforde> Jesse smiles. It’s not a teasing smirk or a lurid grin, but a smile that touches his eyes, imbuing them with a gleaming, excitable warmth that only love can produce. There’s pride there, too, as he recalls the incident that Micah mentions. Yes, his woman can be feisty when she needs to be. It might be surprising to others, and it had once been a surprise to Jesse, too - but it’s one of the many reasons why he loves her so damned much. She is a woman full of surprises, hidden inside of a shell that she has allowed him a glimpse past.

“Okay, okay. How about we settle on this time next week, then? I can meet you at Masterpiece - I’ll even text you to remind you,” he says, pulling his own phone out of his pocket so that he might key the plan into the calendar. This time next week they might be embroiled in some kind of hunt, but that doesn’t really matter - if it’s an ordinary hunt that goes as it should with no adverse consequences, then the tattoo can happen afterwards. “How does that sound?”

<Micah> He nodded his head and pushed off the railing that surrounded the balcony. “That would work best I think. Let’s hope that the week is a quiet one and we can get this done.” He was actually looking forward to it. He hadn’t done any tattooing in ages, the last one being something that he had done for Vel. A redback spider that looked like it was about to jump off of her skin, on the back of her neck. That had been well over a year ago but he just hadn’t had the time to do any work.

“Im gonna wander off and check on Zoey. She was sleeping and I haven't had the chance to check up on her.” His paternal side was showing and he didn’t really care either. He’d missed his daughter. The cryptic messages and the short trip in he’d made were enough to get him by, but he wanted to make sure she was alright. “See ya around, yeah?”

<Jesse Fforde> Jesse nods. He doesn’t judge Micah for wanting to check up on Zoey. It doesn’t even register with Jesse that it’s something he might snort at. Hell, Jesse had been hellbent on coming back only so that he himself could check on Grey, and Grey hadn’t even died. He waves his hand in a dismissive gesture.

“Yeah yeah, I’m always around,” he says, almost certain that he will indeed see Micah around between now and the same time next week. There’s a chance Jesse will be more preoccupied with Grey than usual, but that’s a given. It doesn’t mean he won’t check in to the Eyrie every so often just to make sure everything’s fine, and that he’s not needed. Although he could remain sitting there on that deck, the reminder of Grey has him standing. He wants to get back to Veil Tower and his waiting lover, but he wants to check in at Larch Court first.

“Good talk,” he says with a nod. He doesn’t even say goodbye as he drags the chair back to where he found it, before wandering off toward the elevator. Classic Jesse - no beating around the bush.