#fenixtj

Jessica's brief doze ends, but she is startled. Fenix is positively humming. Jessica herself feels jazzed up, as if she had had an 8 hour rest instead of a mere hour long one. All around her, the very land seems to be adjusting. She thought it would be tense, but Fenix is thriving.

Good. That's a good sign. She is quietly pleased.

Of course, Fenix is about renewing, restoration. Could it be her little hold feels , rather smugly, that she WON?

And how does she tell her mom that she has a smug hold?

Mom would probably not be surprised. she thinks wryly.

A glance outside the window shows weather today. to mortal eyes it is 70 degrees, sunny, very little wind but some.

to chimeral eyes, to the fae?

well...

There are a few more clouds in the near dreaming, yet despite the time, those clouds are tinged with the colors of dawn. The winds are stronger and a bit random, as if feeling the lay of the land and searching about. Yet it is beautiful... and hopeful if on guard...

just how she feels.

The land and the liege are one the sidhe say.

No pressure, Jess. She thinks ruefully.

One pink cloud darkens just a bit and scowls as if to reflect that, but only for a second.

A puff of amusement.

And the cloud is definitely in the pink. Does Hemlock just take this for granted? And is he to blame for those thunderstorms? Come to think of it, is this why mom looks more than a little pleased with the snowflakes in Rivervale are particularly large?

Jessica's memory coughs up an image of how the Lodge blooms annually on Beltaine; Literally. The wood of the interior will produce small buds and branches on that day. Um.

Maybe better not to dwell on that.

YUP. Some very pink chimerical clouds. Moving on.

She no sooner exits her room when she hears the hustle and bustle of Fenix hold going strongly, mostly merrily. Phobos is sporting parrot feathers in his helmet. Looks kind of dashing.

Jessica nods to all she crosses paths with as she heads for the Balefire; her usual first stop.

Yup. Smug.

The flames seem to be particularly lively. Loops and twists within the emerald fires that remind Jessica a little of a symphony conductor waving a baton.

A small smile as she sits at the hearth. "Well. Yeah, it's been a pretty impactful few weeks." She admits.

The flames greet her. One can almost imagine a nod amid that conducting... perhaps a wave.

Much as her mother does, Jessica lets her fingers trail inside the hearth, among the magical flames.

The flames twirl and dance around her fingers in return. They, of course, do not burn her. She can feel the dreams of the city like a great tide pool full of eddies.

She spends a few minutes just renewing her bond.

Through this ,she can feel the other holds...Oh Summerstryke is confused as she should be, but learning mroe about herself and being a vain thing, like that. Tidemarch's hold is more secretive, the Varich Baron there has a strong grip and lets little slip. The Pit is giving Mitra a fight, not because of lack of compatibility, but because that's what little sister hold does. Overall, the various changes are going well enough.

Jessica is relieved. This... could work.

Indeed.

Jessica nods and stands, fetching her maul. Patrol.

She heads out, Phobos and Demos give that look... the one that asks if she needs escort.

Or for that matter, wants it.

She shakes her head, and proceeds on her own.

Daylight is pretty safe, mortal wise- sometimes wanders into the bold or the desperate. But over all, safe. Chimerical threats are another matter however.

She can see a smog hued jaguar eyeing her from a rooftop of a building, and thinking twice about it.

She lifts her head, wondering if this is a threat, or a messenger from the Nunnehi....?

Jags, the animals not the cars, are big in Mexoamerican myth- likely because one could get attacked by one back then. So it could be related, but smog? That's an ugly coughy twist on it if so. It doesn't seem to be talking, or even aware like a truly intelligent chimera might be, but sometimes it's hard to read.

She doesn't let it occupy ALL her attention, but she does not dismiss it either.

And so... patrolling.

There are signs of banality.. of course, areas where mortals have not just been drained of creativity but even the ability to imagine anything better.

The problem being, the jobs that can pay honestly can't pay enough. Was it any wonder Necropsis had no end of women who decided it was better to whore themselves rather than make less than minimum wage? Of course, most pimps made the situation worse, not better. Nec, for all his faults, had standards.

Still, one can't give up because it's hard. If anything, that's when to strive all the more. Sports movies and troll upbringing have taught her that.

Jessica lets her thoughts roam while keeping an eye on the Jaguar, and the other on where she's going.

The chimera has vanished

A faint frown and very careful scan of the area with all her senses.