Emancipated and Quite Capable

Jack had been prepared for an argument with Sebastien over why he'd summoned guests to their townhouse, but he hadn't gotten one. It seemed as though Sebastien's main priorities were getting David to head off again and solving the murders -- in more or less that order.

It was unsettling, to see him so preoccupied. But it did make the day easier.

( Emma was walking into a conspiracy of murder and vampires, in another universe, of her own volition.... )

[OOC: Follows this. Inspired by "Chatoyant." Preplayed with chose_humanity, glacial_witch, icecoldfrost, and vanillajello, who all deserve pie, cake and/or cookies of their choice. NFB, OOC welcome.]

Emma's portal was letting her out just a few blocks from the hotel she'd chosen, so it was easiest for Jack to just meet her in the bar there. He ordered a cognac, not really sipping much at all as he waited.

When Emma had informed him she was staying in a hotel and not with him, he'd been a bit hurt but too grateful she was coming at all to argue. Now, two long weeks later, he was happy he could be here where Sebastien wasn't. He needed rest and normalcy (or as much normalcy as one got with a psychic, anyhow) and that was outweighing his usual fierce desire for his vampire.

He felt more than a bit guilty about leaving the group in Bristol so abruptly; he'd have to make sure to call to check in. Still, there was something to be said for recovering almost alone.

[OOC: NFB. For Emma and for SP -- though I'm not averse to other phone calls.]

Jack hadn't expected much from Emma after their run-in with Adrienne. He'd stayed with her, taken her shopping, talked of nothing. He assumed she'd tell him more about her sister when she felt like it, or never.

His curiosity about the Frosts was itching at him. Sometimes, even when it was important, it was hard for him not to treat people he cared for as potential witnesses.

Perhaps especially when it was important.

She'd stayed in his hotel room that night, and now it was morning. He stroked her hair, trying to decide if they should go off the island again today.

"Are you awake?"

[OOC: For one, NFB.]

After a few hours at Sookie's party, Jack took Emma by the hand and tugged her off to a secluded cove where he'd stashed a few supplies behind a rock. His heart was somewhere in his stomach and acid kept washing over it and into his lungs, but he was determined to make this last date (for that was what it had to be, unless she said something that truly stunned him) as perfect as he could.

"Do you think we'll be missed?" he asked the girl. He meant at the birthday celebration, really.

( Like they could say a short goodbye. )

[OOC: Preplayed with icecoldfrost due to availability; will be continued in comments. NSFW in comments.]

Jack slept late on his first Monday morning as a high school graduate. It had been wonderful to get so much time with Rivka and Sebastien, but bittersweet in that he didn't know how often he'd see either of them in the future. More than anything else, he was exhausted.

So: He slept, and he dreamed. He couldn't have told you the precise moment during his dream when the object he was chasing changed from a box of scrolls to a butcher's bag full of bloody meat. Nor did he awaken in horror when his legs shortened and sprouted fur, when he gained a tail, or when his nose and chin modified themselves into a snout.

But what was perfectly clear was that, by the time he was all the way awake, Jack was not himself at all. Instead, he was the same Jack Russell terrier puppy he'd briefly been during graduation.

With a kind of snort that passed for the canine equivalent of a sigh, Jack pushed himself off the bed and trotted away to try to find either breakfast or someone who could help.

[OOC: Availability note -- I'm off to Florida for a couple days as of tomorrow morning, getting back just in time to squeak into the newbie picnic Saturday. While I'm gone, Jack is a terrier (and Emma and Rose have modding rights), Tara's around but having a random bout of being vewwy vewwy quiet, Henry's back in Chicago to see Alba, and Tyler and Didi will be disposed of later.]

The sun was almost the same in Emma's room as in Jack's, and for a second when he first woke up he didn't remember where he was. The prom dress over a chair made it clear soon enough, though.

He could get up, but that would break the spell. With eyes half-open, he settled back in under the covers, tracing the curve of Emma's hip lightly with a fingertip.

( Still asleep, Emma curled instinctively into the warm presence beside her, making an indistinct pleased sound at the touch. She'd wake soon enough, but for now, this was the most perfect dream in the world. )


[OOC: Closed door, open post, for any & all spawnlets that would have a reason to find Emma and/or Jack. Coded by the awesome icecoldfrost.]

When Jack Dawson opened his eyes, he assumed he'd won some kind of ship upgrade -- this cabin definitely wasn't in steerage. His luck on this trip was holding, he decided as he smiled at the ceiling.

Then his elbow bumped the person next to him. Okay, maybe less an upgrade, more somebody who'd gotten him drunk and let him crash with them. Still pretty swank to get out of the bunks for a night. He'd just have to get out of here and go find Rose. Maybe she'd be willing to sneak away with him for some carsex breakfast.

Then he realized the person in bed next to him was a girl ... and his pajamas were about six inches too short.

This was starting to seem like a very strange morning. Jack sat up silently to see if he could figure out anything more about what had happened.

[OOC: Titanic, yup. Open to those already in the room. ]

So there had been a conversation with Emma that brought up interesting possibilities, and one with George and Mitchell that left Jack surprisingly hopeful about those relationships.

And now it was time for dinner.

( Of course, his walk home wouldn't be *entirely* peaceful.... )

[OOC: NFI, NFB for sneakiness. Preplayed with and coded by the tres charmante blondecanary. ]

Jack had toured the aquarium and then gone back to his room with the vague intention of finding a swimsuit to finally get to the beach. (He knew that was where he should be, he just ... hadn't felt up to it. There was a lot of malaise in Jack this week, and he couldn't snap out of it despite a general urge to roll his eyes at himself. It wasn't exactly news that vampires were not fluffy puppies, after all.)

He wasn't showing any signs of making it this time, either. After a half-hearted search of his drawers, he'd opened yet another tiny bottle from the minibar and was nursing a scotch as he flipped through a book on criminal profiling. He was sure it would be very interesting, if he could actually focus on the pages.

[OOC: For anyone who might want to track him down.]

When he got home from school this weekend, Jack hung his coat neatly, gave the maid three days off, and took Sebastien to bed before he could say much of anything.

Well, the wampyr did look pale. That was justification for ... about half of it. Though, in truth, Jack might have done much the same even if Sebastien were the picture of undead health.

( Eventually they had to talk. )

[OOC: NFB, NFI, OOC-OK]