Emancipated and Quite Capable

Jack hadn't really slept after getting back from his date with Emma. He'd taken a token nap, but in the end the excitement got to him. By seven, he was dressed and his possessions had been boxed neatly. (He had no idea how he'd acquired so many things in just over a year, but he had.)

He had a few hours before his portal left, so he rested on his bare mattress, reading the book Ms. Cabot had given him as a way of focusing his mind away from his nerves. He'd have Sebastien in his new world; nothing could go too far wrong.

The door to the room was open.

[OOC: Last post in Fandom! If you think he would have told you when he was leaving, he did.]

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.]

Jack had every reason to be happy as he made it back to his room after a quick trip into town to buy coffee and pick up his mail. It was a lovely spring day, and there were no children -- his own, or shrunken versions of his classmates and teachers -- about. He was profoundly grateful for this; children were fine, but he'd gotten his fill of babysitting.

He was mildly curious as to why the change had passed him by, but mostly he was simply thankful for that. No one needed to see the silent, wounded boy he had been. Besides, he hadn't spoken English as a small child, and he doubted he would have been able to find anyone to explain things to him in Czech or Yiddish.

But that was not at the top of his head as he returned to his room, not when the mail had brought good news for him. Sebastien had already telegraphed that he'd be at graduation on Saturday; now he had a letter from Rivka as well, confirming she'd asked for and received the time off to visit him. (And, she wrote, no, Jan, don't send money for a coach.) He'd have to talk to both of them about his final plans to stay in this time -- he'd been dancing around the subject -- but he was optimistic enough to believe that wouldn't go too badly. (He'd badger Sebastien into coming with him. He had to.)

He was grinning as he flopped onto his bed with a novel, door open so he could watch the traffic in the hall.

[OOC: Open room post!]

Jack woke up as the sun rose, but he was in no hurry to get out of bed. He had what he assumed was a pleasant but strange dream still playing through his head and no classes for hours.

Besides, bed was a good place to be. There was someone in it with him.

In a moment, he'd figure out why it was extremely odd that the figure had dark hair; for now, he just rolled toward the warmth and snuggled in.

[OOC: For She Who Sadly Is Not Running Off to New York With Him. Set before this, 'cause that's how we roll.]

Jack never saw himself as a diamond thief, but there was something to be said for a job well done that had him distinctly self-satisfied as he got home from New York. He'd barely slept -- there had been too much adrenaline for that -- but it hardly mattered.

He tucked his take into a hidden corner of a dresser, planning to sell the diamonds and give the money to his sister during his next trip home. Then he sprawled on his bed to relax and idly checked his voicemail.

Well. It was good Mitchell was coming back, he supposed, but the whole thing made him frown a bit -- and not just because the messages were of limited coherence, or because he wasn't American. Things would be complicated. But then, they always were.

He picked up his phone to make a call of his own before settling in to write to Sebastien. It would, of necessity, be a rather more censored letter than his norm.

[OOC: Door is closed but knockable, or open to Andy. Aaaaaand let's call the specifics on his thread with Kate NFB.]

Jack had been dealing with the Mitchell situation through the immature but far easier means of ignoring it until something shoved it in his face again. It wasn't as if he had some kind of useful advice to give. Or if he trusted his temper to hold.

So: He wasn't thinking about any of that when his phone rang and he glanced up from his reading to answer it. He didn't recognize the number on the display.

"Hello?"

( That was a very firm 'Hi,' that greeted him. )

[OOC: Topic of phone call NFB. Preplayed with (and coded by) the splendid chose_humanity. Follows this, this and this.]

After his discharge from the clinic, Jack took a rickshaw back to the dorms. He planned to change his shirt and head out to Caritas to help if he could. The rickshaw driver went fast enough that it was a clear ride -- any lurking gremlins were smashed under the vehicle's wheels.

Jack made it a point to tip well.

When he got to his room, though, he found a small bobcat lolling on his rug, gnawing on what seemed to be gremlin entrails. He blinked and, cautiously, asked "Who are you and how did you get in?"

The bobcat padded over to some photos Jack kept on his desk and batted the one of Rose to the ground before going back to her snack. She seemed irritated but resigned to the question.

Jack let out a short bark of laughter that sent a shock of pain through his head again. "Well," he said, "at least I know you aren't hurt."

The bobcat rolled her eyes as if to protest her own awesomeness -- like she'd ever get hurt -- but was quickly distracted by a cluster of gremlins rolling out of Jack's closet. One-two-three clashes of fang and fur against fang and scales, and the gremlins were deposited at Jack's feet.

The bobcat seemed very well-pleased with herself as Jack decided to stay in the room for a while. His head still hurt a bit, and he could hardly leave the huntress alone.

[OOC: Open door, open post, linkdrop to come. guardianborn-the-bobcat modded with permission.]

Jack had arranged his schedule to leave Fridays free to make it easier to come and go from Baltimore. The problem with that was that it left weekends when he was in town as rather stunningly long and dry.

He sat on his bed and worked on a letter to Sebastien, a CD of Debussy compositions spinning in the stereo he'd recently acquired. The door was cracked so he could watch people come and go.

[OOC: Emma thread gets NWS.]

Jack was bored. He'd felt just sick enough for the weekend not to be up to trick-or-treating or Samhain -- but not so sick as to not be keenly aware he was missing out -- and, today, had finally mustered the energy for a shower and a walk into town, just to make sure it was still there.

It was, as was J,GOB's. He was fortified with a box containing rather more pastries than were, strictly speaking as he returned to his room early in the evening. Then Jack settled on his bed with the eclairs and a deck of cards. He'd leave the door open, and watch the halls to see if anyone passing could be lured in for something more interesting than solitaire.

[OOC; Open room post!]