When Jaz opened her eyes, Ren was frowning with a hand on his knife, looking around as though something was approaching. Something dangerous.
At first, Jaz responded with worry, collecting her legs into a position more conducive to running on short notice and placing a hand on her satchel, but then Ren's gaze settled on her. Like she was the dangerous thing.
The ferocity in his eyes sent shivers through her body from head to toe.
"What did you do?"
Jaz received his words like a slap across the face, stunned with the force of several realizations at once. She had royally messed this up, hadn't she?
For several moments, she stared at Ren in open shock, unable to speak.
Finally, she said, in a whisper, "It was just... one... flower." Jaz knew she probably wasn't making any sense to him. She was on the verge of tears, but she did not want him to think she was intentionally trying to earn his sympathy, so she fought them back stubbornly, her expression veering toward determination.
She turned to the ground and said a string of words in her own language, damning the miscommunication of it all. Having the familiar sounds in her mouth made her feel better.
Jaz took a deep breath and looked again at Ren, trying to figure out how to explain. Whatever had gotten through to Ren, it wasn't good, and it definitely hadn't been whole. She thought about extending her hand to him to show him what she had intended, but she very much doubted he would trust her with that now.
"What you asked for... it's all... intimate. I didn't think I could touch you without it flooding through. They're not comfortable memories to share." She looked at Ren in exasperation, begging him to understand how big his ask had been. It wasn't an excuse, but... "Some djinn can share memories at a distance. I'm not good at it, but I thought it wouldn't hurt to try. I see that I was very wrong about that."
Leaving the Djinn
Re: Leaving the Djinn
Jaz stared at him in open shock for a long moment. Ren was curled tight with defensiveness, but he at least made sure to remove his hand from his knife, and he rested his arms on his knees. He was still crouched, still with the ability to spring up into a run at a moment's notice, but the new pose allowed his shoulders to relax a little, and hopefully offered a little bit less of a threatening posture.
"It was just... one... flower," she finally said, quite softly. Ren furrowed his brow with a puzzled look, though he did seem to catch another image in his periphery, this time a little bit more clearly--black tendrils, reaching, grabbing, clinging on, trapping. His shoulders tensed again, but he didn't look around this time, understanding now that his feeling of [i]danger[/i] was [i]not[/i] coming from the world [i]around[/i] him. He couldn't help the anger in his expression, but he remained quiet, waiting for Jaz to get through her fluster.
She had initially looked on the verge of tears, but steeled herself, mustering a look of determination, though she aimed it down at the ground. Then, she uttered a string of words he did not recognize, spurring his muscles to clench even more tightly as he vigilantly steeled himself for another vision, or something like--but, best he could tell, nothing happened. He relaxed a little, but not by much.
Finally, Jaz took a deep breath and brought her gaze up to him again. He kept his expression stony, [i]trying[/i] to reel in the anger and just be blank. Patient. He wasn't sure how successful he was.
"What you asked for..." she finally said, "it's all... intimate. I didn't think I could touch you without it flooding through. They're not comfortable memories to share." This drew puzzlement back into his brow. It was tempting to cut in and explain what he had actually intended to ask for, but he let Jaz finish what she had to say.
"Some djinn can share memories at a distance. I'm not good at it, but I thought it wouldn't hurt to try. I see that I was very wrong about that."
Ren couldn't help a quiet scoff. Gods, how quickly they could go from wonder to anger with each other. But, maybe that was his way, as much as anything else. He sighed, trying to release some of the anger that he knew [i]wasn't[/i] Jaz's to bear here.
"It spooked me." Ran said after a long moment. He finally sighed again and shifted to sit down again, able at last to coax his body into setting down its vigilance, though his heart still raced. Something caught in his throat, too--[i]Don't do it again[/i]. No, he absolutely did not want to bring [i]that[/i] into this. Was he even sure that's what he wanted? He took another deep breath and let it out, closing his eyes and crossing his arms in thought.
"[i]If[/i] you want to do that again, I would appreciate if you'd ask first. Then at least I know to expect it."
His next exhale was long and slow, and at last he opened his eyes again to look at Jaz, some small semblance of softness finally returning to his expression.
"I had intended just to ask for images, like of the first flower you showed me from your world. I hadn't intended to ask for anything more complicated than that." He lamented that there was some exasperation in his voice; he'd intended it just to be informative. But, he did have some frustration at how things had cascaded from there. Jaz had made her quip about the plants being [i]long stories[/i]; he wished she would have just left it at that, then. But, lamenting it all wasn't going to get them anywhere.
"I'm sorry you felt put on the spot. You don't have to show me things that are uncomfortable for you to show me. I didn't realize it would be uncomfortable."
He clenched his jaw briefly, more words trying to spill out but a tension rising about speaking. He was trying to belabor a point. He should just move on. He closed his eyes and sighed once more, dropping his hands down into his lap, and then, opening his eyes again, he gestured lightly toward the tree.
"As far as I know, the most dangerous thing about that tree's sap is its taste--it's not very good. That said, I don't know any humans who have consumed much of it, for that reason. And, [i]all[/i] of my plant knowledge--which I'm sure has [i]vast[/i] holes in it--is tempered with the disclaimer that I have very little idea of how similar your species' biology is to mine."
Irritability started to sharpen his voice near the end, and he took another breath, throwing his glare to the ground. He resolved to just let that stand as it was, or at least to take a few moments to calm down.
"It was just... one... flower," she finally said, quite softly. Ren furrowed his brow with a puzzled look, though he did seem to catch another image in his periphery, this time a little bit more clearly--black tendrils, reaching, grabbing, clinging on, trapping. His shoulders tensed again, but he didn't look around this time, understanding now that his feeling of [i]danger[/i] was [i]not[/i] coming from the world [i]around[/i] him. He couldn't help the anger in his expression, but he remained quiet, waiting for Jaz to get through her fluster.
She had initially looked on the verge of tears, but steeled herself, mustering a look of determination, though she aimed it down at the ground. Then, she uttered a string of words he did not recognize, spurring his muscles to clench even more tightly as he vigilantly steeled himself for another vision, or something like--but, best he could tell, nothing happened. He relaxed a little, but not by much.
Finally, Jaz took a deep breath and brought her gaze up to him again. He kept his expression stony, [i]trying[/i] to reel in the anger and just be blank. Patient. He wasn't sure how successful he was.
"What you asked for..." she finally said, "it's all... intimate. I didn't think I could touch you without it flooding through. They're not comfortable memories to share." This drew puzzlement back into his brow. It was tempting to cut in and explain what he had actually intended to ask for, but he let Jaz finish what she had to say.
"Some djinn can share memories at a distance. I'm not good at it, but I thought it wouldn't hurt to try. I see that I was very wrong about that."
Ren couldn't help a quiet scoff. Gods, how quickly they could go from wonder to anger with each other. But, maybe that was his way, as much as anything else. He sighed, trying to release some of the anger that he knew [i]wasn't[/i] Jaz's to bear here.
"It spooked me." Ran said after a long moment. He finally sighed again and shifted to sit down again, able at last to coax his body into setting down its vigilance, though his heart still raced. Something caught in his throat, too--[i]Don't do it again[/i]. No, he absolutely did not want to bring [i]that[/i] into this. Was he even sure that's what he wanted? He took another deep breath and let it out, closing his eyes and crossing his arms in thought.
"[i]If[/i] you want to do that again, I would appreciate if you'd ask first. Then at least I know to expect it."
His next exhale was long and slow, and at last he opened his eyes again to look at Jaz, some small semblance of softness finally returning to his expression.
"I had intended just to ask for images, like of the first flower you showed me from your world. I hadn't intended to ask for anything more complicated than that." He lamented that there was some exasperation in his voice; he'd intended it just to be informative. But, he did have some frustration at how things had cascaded from there. Jaz had made her quip about the plants being [i]long stories[/i]; he wished she would have just left it at that, then. But, lamenting it all wasn't going to get them anywhere.
"I'm sorry you felt put on the spot. You don't have to show me things that are uncomfortable for you to show me. I didn't realize it would be uncomfortable."
He clenched his jaw briefly, more words trying to spill out but a tension rising about speaking. He was trying to belabor a point. He should just move on. He closed his eyes and sighed once more, dropping his hands down into his lap, and then, opening his eyes again, he gestured lightly toward the tree.
"As far as I know, the most dangerous thing about that tree's sap is its taste--it's not very good. That said, I don't know any humans who have consumed much of it, for that reason. And, [i]all[/i] of my plant knowledge--which I'm sure has [i]vast[/i] holes in it--is tempered with the disclaimer that I have very little idea of how similar your species' biology is to mine."
Irritability started to sharpen his voice near the end, and he took another breath, throwing his glare to the ground. He resolved to just let that stand as it was, or at least to take a few moments to calm down.
Re: Leaving the Djinn
Ren scoffed, which Jaz read as [i]obviously.[/i]
She retreated within herself, steeling her face. Gods, she would really need to stop being so impulsive if she wanted to continue being Ren's guest. Ren sighed, and Jaz found herself staring at the stick in her hand, the idea of tasting it now tainted with bitter loneliness.
"It spooked me," Ren finally said, sitting down more fully again. He sighed twice more, and Jaz couldn't look him in the eye. She blinked back tears again, trying not to scold herself too harshly. She [i]was[/i] still learning this place and its culture. With so much of magic utterly foreign to humans, it was difficult to keep it all straight. Magic was as natural as breathing to her--she'd been immersed in it.
In her periphery, Ren folded his arms and took a quieter, deeper breath.
"If you want to do that again, I would appreciate if you'd ask first. Then at least I know to expect it."
That was fair, Jaz supposed, and really, that's what she should do from now on with things that were potentially new to Ren, as a general rule.
She looked up and met his eyes, her face still impassive.
"I had intended just to ask for images, like of the first flower you showed me from your world. I hadn't intended to ask for anything more complicated than that." There was a mild snap in his tone--a frustration. He was frustrated at the miscommunication as much as she was, it seemed. Or maybe just frustrated with her. That he was [i]stuck[/i] with her, maybe. Because, in all reality, where else did she have to go?
"I'm sorry you felt put on the spot. You don't have to show me things that are uncomfortable for you to show me. I didn't realize it would be uncomfortable."
His face didn't match his words at all. His jaw was clenched tight, and the frustration was still present in his tone. It was hard to believe him.
She could take the tent and go somewhere, live in the woods somewhere. But what would she do without even a lock on her flimsy tent door? Would someone find her?
She did have money now, at least, and a basic understanding of what she needed to survive here. She didn't [i]need[/i] to be subsistent on Ren. She could go back to Monica for help, probably. Or maybe Ren's other friend would be helpful--if the two of them even made it that far.
Jaz was so much in her own head, already making plans, that she fully expected Ren to agree with her and send her on her way when next he opened his mouth.
He sighed, gestured at the tree, and said, "As far as I know, the most dangerous thing about that tree's sap is its taste--it's not very good." Jaz made an incredulous face, furrowed her eyebrows and moving her head backward. It [i]smelled[/i] good. But also, somehow, she hadn't expected him to return to the case in point.
Ren continued, "That said, I don't know any humans who have consumed much of it, for that reason. And, all of my plant knowledge--which I'm sure has vast holes in it--is tempered with the disclaimer that I have very little idea of how similar your species' biology is to mine."
His tone was still barbed, and Jaz's face finally fell past its imposed stoicism, her eyes dropping past the stick held limply in her hand to the ground, the corners of her mouth downturned and pitiful.
[i]I spooked him. He's just scared,[/i] she thought, trying to have sympathy for the situation. She wondered if she should leave him alone for a while or if he was ready for her to try to explain further.
What was he so afraid of, here? There was clearly something to fear for him to react the way he had, even if she had messed up. What did she need to know about this place?
Some [i]legends of creatures from other realms speak of tricksters at best, corrupters or enslavers or murderers more often[/i], Ren had said during their first meeting.
And later, Ren had spoken of people he'd run away from. What would they do with Ren if they found him? Would they also do that to Jaz? In interacting with him, was she also at risk?
[i]Old habits die hard,[/i] he had said, so maybe there was no real danger. Maybe he was just... wounded. Unable to be unafraid. Something about that softened the tension in Jaz's chest.
She smirked, just a little, and said, "You're not responsible for the risks I take." As she continued, Jaz sobered. "It's [i]kind[/i] when you offer information you have, but ultimately, I have to be able to trust my own intuition and judgment."
Jaz paused, sensing that her goodwill with Ren was still on the edge of a blade and treading carefully. "Pulling up images, memories..." Jaz said, looking at the ground, "...it's a process. To give you a sense of it, I have to remember what it is to [i]feel[/i] what's it was like to be [i]right there.[/i] With more ornamental plants, plants I saw all the time, it's easier. With interactions that were more complicated or more rare, it... comes with... a lot."
She looked at Ren sympathetically, eyebrows pulled up and together. "I [i]want[/i] to show you all of it, Ren--I can't even tell you how much I want that, but I don't want to overwhelm you more than I already do." She looked back down at the ground at that, pulling her arms around herself and holding the stick away from herself. It felt absurd to keep hold of it, but she couldn't bring herself to let it go either.
"I am sorry, and I will ask permission before I do anything... new. I do owe you that. It's not an excuse, but I'm still... adjusting. And, if... all of this... ever becomes too much, I [i]can[/i] probably get by on my own at this point. You've given me more than enough to work with." She raised her eyes to his again, intending to show resolve and confidence, but she couldn't help the sadness in her eyes, despite continuing to blink it away.
She did smile a little as she offered one last thought, "I suppose I could have just told you no." Somehow, though, she thought that might have rubbed him in a [i]different[/i] kind of wrong way, though perhaps that path would have been more fun.
She retreated within herself, steeling her face. Gods, she would really need to stop being so impulsive if she wanted to continue being Ren's guest. Ren sighed, and Jaz found herself staring at the stick in her hand, the idea of tasting it now tainted with bitter loneliness.
"It spooked me," Ren finally said, sitting down more fully again. He sighed twice more, and Jaz couldn't look him in the eye. She blinked back tears again, trying not to scold herself too harshly. She [i]was[/i] still learning this place and its culture. With so much of magic utterly foreign to humans, it was difficult to keep it all straight. Magic was as natural as breathing to her--she'd been immersed in it.
In her periphery, Ren folded his arms and took a quieter, deeper breath.
"If you want to do that again, I would appreciate if you'd ask first. Then at least I know to expect it."
That was fair, Jaz supposed, and really, that's what she should do from now on with things that were potentially new to Ren, as a general rule.
She looked up and met his eyes, her face still impassive.
"I had intended just to ask for images, like of the first flower you showed me from your world. I hadn't intended to ask for anything more complicated than that." There was a mild snap in his tone--a frustration. He was frustrated at the miscommunication as much as she was, it seemed. Or maybe just frustrated with her. That he was [i]stuck[/i] with her, maybe. Because, in all reality, where else did she have to go?
"I'm sorry you felt put on the spot. You don't have to show me things that are uncomfortable for you to show me. I didn't realize it would be uncomfortable."
His face didn't match his words at all. His jaw was clenched tight, and the frustration was still present in his tone. It was hard to believe him.
She could take the tent and go somewhere, live in the woods somewhere. But what would she do without even a lock on her flimsy tent door? Would someone find her?
She did have money now, at least, and a basic understanding of what she needed to survive here. She didn't [i]need[/i] to be subsistent on Ren. She could go back to Monica for help, probably. Or maybe Ren's other friend would be helpful--if the two of them even made it that far.
Jaz was so much in her own head, already making plans, that she fully expected Ren to agree with her and send her on her way when next he opened his mouth.
He sighed, gestured at the tree, and said, "As far as I know, the most dangerous thing about that tree's sap is its taste--it's not very good." Jaz made an incredulous face, furrowed her eyebrows and moving her head backward. It [i]smelled[/i] good. But also, somehow, she hadn't expected him to return to the case in point.
Ren continued, "That said, I don't know any humans who have consumed much of it, for that reason. And, all of my plant knowledge--which I'm sure has vast holes in it--is tempered with the disclaimer that I have very little idea of how similar your species' biology is to mine."
His tone was still barbed, and Jaz's face finally fell past its imposed stoicism, her eyes dropping past the stick held limply in her hand to the ground, the corners of her mouth downturned and pitiful.
[i]I spooked him. He's just scared,[/i] she thought, trying to have sympathy for the situation. She wondered if she should leave him alone for a while or if he was ready for her to try to explain further.
What was he so afraid of, here? There was clearly something to fear for him to react the way he had, even if she had messed up. What did she need to know about this place?
Some [i]legends of creatures from other realms speak of tricksters at best, corrupters or enslavers or murderers more often[/i], Ren had said during their first meeting.
And later, Ren had spoken of people he'd run away from. What would they do with Ren if they found him? Would they also do that to Jaz? In interacting with him, was she also at risk?
[i]Old habits die hard,[/i] he had said, so maybe there was no real danger. Maybe he was just... wounded. Unable to be unafraid. Something about that softened the tension in Jaz's chest.
She smirked, just a little, and said, "You're not responsible for the risks I take." As she continued, Jaz sobered. "It's [i]kind[/i] when you offer information you have, but ultimately, I have to be able to trust my own intuition and judgment."
Jaz paused, sensing that her goodwill with Ren was still on the edge of a blade and treading carefully. "Pulling up images, memories..." Jaz said, looking at the ground, "...it's a process. To give you a sense of it, I have to remember what it is to [i]feel[/i] what's it was like to be [i]right there.[/i] With more ornamental plants, plants I saw all the time, it's easier. With interactions that were more complicated or more rare, it... comes with... a lot."
She looked at Ren sympathetically, eyebrows pulled up and together. "I [i]want[/i] to show you all of it, Ren--I can't even tell you how much I want that, but I don't want to overwhelm you more than I already do." She looked back down at the ground at that, pulling her arms around herself and holding the stick away from herself. It felt absurd to keep hold of it, but she couldn't bring herself to let it go either.
"I am sorry, and I will ask permission before I do anything... new. I do owe you that. It's not an excuse, but I'm still... adjusting. And, if... all of this... ever becomes too much, I [i]can[/i] probably get by on my own at this point. You've given me more than enough to work with." She raised her eyes to his again, intending to show resolve and confidence, but she couldn't help the sadness in her eyes, despite continuing to blink it away.
She did smile a little as she offered one last thought, "I suppose I could have just told you no." Somehow, though, she thought that might have rubbed him in a [i]different[/i] kind of wrong way, though perhaps that path would have been more fun.
Re: Leaving the Djinn
Jaz looked at her stick with sap on it for a long moment, her hand and expression both limp. She looked like she'd been scolded--and maybe that's exactly what Ren had done. He'd tried to be careful with his words, but he knew his tone had still been sharp, bitter, angry, frustrated. He didn't know how to diffuse it, and guilt tore at his stomach about it.
He cast his own eyes to the ground, and then sighed softly and set his palms on the Earth, closing his eyes and trying to feel into the ground beneath him. He was doing a terrible job of tending to harmony and trust, and he quietly sought the goddesses who might help.
"You're not responsible for the risks I take," Jaz finally broke the silence, and Ren opened his eyes to face her again. She had on a bit of a smirk, which surprised and, briefly, irritated him, but ultimately, he figured it a good sign and relaxed. "It's [i]kind[/i] when you offer information you have, but ultimately, I have to be able to trust my own intuition and judgment."
Ren nodded, perhaps a touch hesitantly. Something within him fought against the idea that he wasn't responsible for Jaz, for keeping her safe, for showing her the way, for making sure this world didn't hurt her before she could even understand it. But, that was treating her like a child. He hunched his shoulders slightly, curling his chest inward.
"Pulling up images, memories..." Jaz said, looking at the ground, and Ren took the opportunity to gently rub at his chest without being watched, helping to soothe himself as he listened. "...it's a process. To give you a sense of it, I have to remember what it is to feel what it was like to be right there. With more ornamental plants, plants I saw all the time, it's easier. With interactions that were more complicated or more rare, it... comes with... a lot."
Ren nodded tentatively again. He understood, and didn't have much fighting against that this time--quite the contrary, he felt a bit guilty for not having understood that intrinsically to begin with. He supposed it might be like describing something from memory--that wasn't always a straightforward thing to do. Jaz wasn't just some book he could flip through for a particular picture or passage.
Jaz looked up at Ren again. He'd already lowered his hand, though he still felt rather exposed somehow. Her expression was soft, though, and open, and he found that he didn't mind the feeling, not so much.
"I [i]want[/i] to show you all of it, Ren--I can't even tell you how much I want that, but I don't want to overwhelm you more than I already do." She curled in on herself, looking back down to the ground. Ren felt a yearning to open her back up--to gently touch her forearms to guide them to her sides, to lift her chin to look at him. To feel their chests both open toward each other. He clenched his jaw a little, knowing that all was a bad idea on multiple counts.
"I am sorry," she went on, "and I will ask permission before I do anything... new. I do owe you that. It's not an excuse, but I'm still... adjusting. And, if... all of this... ever becomes too much, I [i]can[/i] probably get by on my own at this point. You've given me more than enough to work with." She looked up at him with sadness in her eyes, and he raised his eyebrows gently, surprised by this direction.
"I suppose I could have just told you no," she added, managing a smile.
Ren let out a soft, amused exhale, turning up a small smile of his own.
"[i]Yes[/i]," he said emphatically,his tone warm and full-bodied. "You could have." He thought about asking if there was some reason she hadn't felt like she could, but that felt like a bit of a tangent, right this moment. Wandering father away from the crux of the tension they were actually in.
"I don't... want you to get by on your own," he said, his expression sobering. "I mean, eventually, of course. But I can still help you. I [i]want[/i] to keep helping you. It's just... going to be bumpy, with me. There's a reason I live alone in the woods. But... I do want to keep helping you."
He sighed a little and reached up to rub at his neck, eyes tracing lines of pine needles on the ground. Nervousness was tying layered knots in his stomach--was he sounding like he wanted to [i]keep[/i] Jaz dependent on him? Or, like he was wanting something [i]from[/i] Jaz? Or, conversely, like she was just an obligation? He didn't know how to fully express what he actually felt, here. He decided to just let his words stand on their own for now, see how they actually landed. More talking would probably just dig him deeper, wherever he was at.
He cast his own eyes to the ground, and then sighed softly and set his palms on the Earth, closing his eyes and trying to feel into the ground beneath him. He was doing a terrible job of tending to harmony and trust, and he quietly sought the goddesses who might help.
"You're not responsible for the risks I take," Jaz finally broke the silence, and Ren opened his eyes to face her again. She had on a bit of a smirk, which surprised and, briefly, irritated him, but ultimately, he figured it a good sign and relaxed. "It's [i]kind[/i] when you offer information you have, but ultimately, I have to be able to trust my own intuition and judgment."
Ren nodded, perhaps a touch hesitantly. Something within him fought against the idea that he wasn't responsible for Jaz, for keeping her safe, for showing her the way, for making sure this world didn't hurt her before she could even understand it. But, that was treating her like a child. He hunched his shoulders slightly, curling his chest inward.
"Pulling up images, memories..." Jaz said, looking at the ground, and Ren took the opportunity to gently rub at his chest without being watched, helping to soothe himself as he listened. "...it's a process. To give you a sense of it, I have to remember what it is to feel what it was like to be right there. With more ornamental plants, plants I saw all the time, it's easier. With interactions that were more complicated or more rare, it... comes with... a lot."
Ren nodded tentatively again. He understood, and didn't have much fighting against that this time--quite the contrary, he felt a bit guilty for not having understood that intrinsically to begin with. He supposed it might be like describing something from memory--that wasn't always a straightforward thing to do. Jaz wasn't just some book he could flip through for a particular picture or passage.
Jaz looked up at Ren again. He'd already lowered his hand, though he still felt rather exposed somehow. Her expression was soft, though, and open, and he found that he didn't mind the feeling, not so much.
"I [i]want[/i] to show you all of it, Ren--I can't even tell you how much I want that, but I don't want to overwhelm you more than I already do." She curled in on herself, looking back down to the ground. Ren felt a yearning to open her back up--to gently touch her forearms to guide them to her sides, to lift her chin to look at him. To feel their chests both open toward each other. He clenched his jaw a little, knowing that all was a bad idea on multiple counts.
"I am sorry," she went on, "and I will ask permission before I do anything... new. I do owe you that. It's not an excuse, but I'm still... adjusting. And, if... all of this... ever becomes too much, I [i]can[/i] probably get by on my own at this point. You've given me more than enough to work with." She looked up at him with sadness in her eyes, and he raised his eyebrows gently, surprised by this direction.
"I suppose I could have just told you no," she added, managing a smile.
Ren let out a soft, amused exhale, turning up a small smile of his own.
"[i]Yes[/i]," he said emphatically,his tone warm and full-bodied. "You could have." He thought about asking if there was some reason she hadn't felt like she could, but that felt like a bit of a tangent, right this moment. Wandering father away from the crux of the tension they were actually in.
"I don't... want you to get by on your own," he said, his expression sobering. "I mean, eventually, of course. But I can still help you. I [i]want[/i] to keep helping you. It's just... going to be bumpy, with me. There's a reason I live alone in the woods. But... I do want to keep helping you."
He sighed a little and reached up to rub at his neck, eyes tracing lines of pine needles on the ground. Nervousness was tying layered knots in his stomach--was he sounding like he wanted to [i]keep[/i] Jaz dependent on him? Or, like he was wanting something [i]from[/i] Jaz? Or, conversely, like she was just an obligation? He didn't know how to fully express what he actually felt, here. He decided to just let his words stand on their own for now, see how they actually landed. More talking would probably just dig him deeper, wherever he was at.
Re: Leaving the Djinn
Though Ren was smiling now, he said, "Yes. You could have," so emphatically that Jaz felt more chastised than ever. Her slight smile from earlier faded immediately, and her eyes fell back to the ground. Her heart pounded bleakly, erratically, as though trying to catch up with itself.
"I don't... want you to get by on your own," Ren added, his expression neutral again, and Jaz had simultaneous waves of elation and utter confusion. Her eyes grew bright and snapped up to meet his, brows furrowed. "I mean, eventually, of course. But I can still help you. I want to keep helping you. It's just... going to be bumpy, with me. There's a reason I live alone in the woods. But... I do want to keep helping you."
Something in Jaz's stomach relaxed, and when she looked back at the ground, she realized she was smiling again.
I want to keep helping you. I want to keep helping you. I do want to keep helping you. The words ran through Jaz's mind, and she chased them in delighted circles. It was making her dizzy. Giddy, even.
She could have kissed him. She could have taken him into her arms just then and given him anything and everything he wanted. And yet, there was still this chasm between them, and maybe there always would be. An ache erupted in her chest, and she rubbed the heel of her hand on her sternum, attempting to soothe the sensation.
Finally, Jaz stood and held out the hand that was not holding the stick to him in a strange combination of sheepishness and defiance. Though she stood confidently, she also felt twitchy, like she might pull her hand back at any moment. Shyly, she looked at him.
"I could show you... one. For now."
"I don't... want you to get by on your own," Ren added, his expression neutral again, and Jaz had simultaneous waves of elation and utter confusion. Her eyes grew bright and snapped up to meet his, brows furrowed. "I mean, eventually, of course. But I can still help you. I want to keep helping you. It's just... going to be bumpy, with me. There's a reason I live alone in the woods. But... I do want to keep helping you."
Something in Jaz's stomach relaxed, and when she looked back at the ground, she realized she was smiling again.
I want to keep helping you. I want to keep helping you. I do want to keep helping you. The words ran through Jaz's mind, and she chased them in delighted circles. It was making her dizzy. Giddy, even.
She could have kissed him. She could have taken him into her arms just then and given him anything and everything he wanted. And yet, there was still this chasm between them, and maybe there always would be. An ache erupted in her chest, and she rubbed the heel of her hand on her sternum, attempting to soothe the sensation.
Finally, Jaz stood and held out the hand that was not holding the stick to him in a strange combination of sheepishness and defiance. Though she stood confidently, she also felt twitchy, like she might pull her hand back at any moment. Shyly, she looked at him.
"I could show you... one. For now."
Re: Leaving the Djinn
Jaz was quiet for a long moment, and Ren's eyes finally meandered toward her, though they couldn't quite meet her face. They just caught her hand rubbing at her chest, and then looked away again, feeling he had spied something private. Still, perhaps it gave him permission, or maybe he just felt like evening the field, but in either case, he moved his hand to rub at his own chest again, and did find soothing there.
Then, Jaz stood, and held out her hand to him. He blinked at it, full of surprise and bafflement, before finally looking up to see her face. A mixture of emotions, he thought, but something about it seemed heartening.
"I could show you... one. For now."
Ren's eyebrows furrowed a little. He was worried she still felt that she had to, or ought to at least. He didn't want her to feel pressured. He sighed a little and stood, certain that he didn't want to be sitting at her feet, in any case.
He regarded her hand, considering turning her down--he wasn't sure that he wanted to see one of her memories of a poison plant, after all that, even if she could believe that she wanted to show him one. But, there would be something uncomfortable in the air between them if he tried to just simply move on. They did both need something here, surely. Some way to rebalance together again. He thought briefly of when he'd held her hand last night, when he'd felt the warmth of Sankera's cloak drape over him. That sensation felt so distant, now... but, maybe there were ways to get closer to it.
Finally, he brought his gaze back up to her, and tentatively lifted his palm toward her--a gesture, not yet making connection.
"Would you... show me something soothing, instead? For both our sakes?"
Then, Jaz stood, and held out her hand to him. He blinked at it, full of surprise and bafflement, before finally looking up to see her face. A mixture of emotions, he thought, but something about it seemed heartening.
"I could show you... one. For now."
Ren's eyebrows furrowed a little. He was worried she still felt that she had to, or ought to at least. He didn't want her to feel pressured. He sighed a little and stood, certain that he didn't want to be sitting at her feet, in any case.
He regarded her hand, considering turning her down--he wasn't sure that he wanted to see one of her memories of a poison plant, after all that, even if she could believe that she wanted to show him one. But, there would be something uncomfortable in the air between them if he tried to just simply move on. They did both need something here, surely. Some way to rebalance together again. He thought briefly of when he'd held her hand last night, when he'd felt the warmth of Sankera's cloak drape over him. That sensation felt so distant, now... but, maybe there were ways to get closer to it.
Finally, he brought his gaze back up to her, and tentatively lifted his palm toward her--a gesture, not yet making connection.
"Would you... show me something soothing, instead? For both our sakes?"
Re: Leaving the Djinn
Ren's brows fell darkly down over his eyes, and Jaz's arm wavered slightly, though she determinedly willed her muscles to stay in the same place.
He sighed, then, and stood, and Jaz fought the urge to take a step back.
Though considering her hand, Ren didn't appear any closer to accepting her offer. Was it too late?
Ren lifted his eyes to meet hers, and her aching loneliness surged again, slamming against the inside of her chest as her eyes watered. He didn't reach out to touch her. Instead, he lifted his own palm.
"Would you... show me something soothing, instead? For both our sakes?"
Jaz bit her lip unconsciously, surprised and needing a moment to think. Gods, she was grateful, and the anticipation of relief hung heavy around her.
But what to show him? Could she be soothing now?
Jaz closed her eyes, searching through memories. The ones from home were too painful to go scavenging through right now, too full of complex emotions and longing.
But more recently...
Jaz held the memory of brushing Ren's hair and singing to him in his cabin and sighed, a smile coming to her lips. Confident that she could pass the impression on well, Jaz steeped closer to Ren to comfortably match her palm alongside his. They hovered there in that electric space between not quite touching before Jaz gently made contact one finger at a time, closing her eyes again and imagining that earlier moment.
Brushing just a little too long through his detangled hair. Feeling inspired by the flickers of emotion she could see from him. Humming the tune she had caught and added words to, allowing that otherworldly feeling of spontaneous creation to flow through her.
((OOC: She's being very attentive and would break contact if Ren seemed upset. She's aware that she's showing him a vulnerable moment, but that was genuinely what came strongest to mind.))
He sighed, then, and stood, and Jaz fought the urge to take a step back.
Though considering her hand, Ren didn't appear any closer to accepting her offer. Was it too late?
Ren lifted his eyes to meet hers, and her aching loneliness surged again, slamming against the inside of her chest as her eyes watered. He didn't reach out to touch her. Instead, he lifted his own palm.
"Would you... show me something soothing, instead? For both our sakes?"
Jaz bit her lip unconsciously, surprised and needing a moment to think. Gods, she was grateful, and the anticipation of relief hung heavy around her.
But what to show him? Could she be soothing now?
Jaz closed her eyes, searching through memories. The ones from home were too painful to go scavenging through right now, too full of complex emotions and longing.
But more recently...
Jaz held the memory of brushing Ren's hair and singing to him in his cabin and sighed, a smile coming to her lips. Confident that she could pass the impression on well, Jaz steeped closer to Ren to comfortably match her palm alongside his. They hovered there in that electric space between not quite touching before Jaz gently made contact one finger at a time, closing her eyes again and imagining that earlier moment.
Brushing just a little too long through his detangled hair. Feeling inspired by the flickers of emotion she could see from him. Humming the tune she had caught and added words to, allowing that otherworldly feeling of spontaneous creation to flow through her.
((OOC: She's being very attentive and would break contact if Ren seemed upset. She's aware that she's showing him a vulnerable moment, but that was genuinely what came strongest to mind.))
Re: Leaving the Djinn
Jaz bit her lip and then closed her eyes, apparently anxious about Ren's request. He frowned a little, but tried to be patient. Or maybe... hopefully, if she needed to, she could say no this time, though he would probably also be a little sad and confused if she did.
At last, a smile found its way to her lips with a small sigh, lightening Ren's worry. She stepped closer to him, and extended her palm to him as he had to her. The gesture invited his gaze down to the space between their hands, the anticipation of contact nearly sparking goosebumps. He swallowed, trying to muster the courage to close the gap, figuring Jaz must be waiting to do so on his account. But then, gently and tenderly, she made contact first, one fingertip at a time. He was pretty sure that did spark pleasant goosebumps, sending a soothing tingle up through his scalp. He felt a cascade of muscles relaxing with relief. They were finding their way back to that trust with each other.
Back to how it felt when Jaz was brushing his hair the night before, singing to him, fostering warmth between them.
Ren gently closed his hand around Jaz's, exhaling deeply and offering her gratitude.
He neared a feeling of completion for himself fairly quickly, the memory having done quick work of loosening the knots that had gathered up the previous moments. But, rather than pull away, he tried offering a curiosity to the connection.
Is there anything that you need?
At last, a smile found its way to her lips with a small sigh, lightening Ren's worry. She stepped closer to him, and extended her palm to him as he had to her. The gesture invited his gaze down to the space between their hands, the anticipation of contact nearly sparking goosebumps. He swallowed, trying to muster the courage to close the gap, figuring Jaz must be waiting to do so on his account. But then, gently and tenderly, she made contact first, one fingertip at a time. He was pretty sure that did spark pleasant goosebumps, sending a soothing tingle up through his scalp. He felt a cascade of muscles relaxing with relief. They were finding their way back to that trust with each other.
Back to how it felt when Jaz was brushing his hair the night before, singing to him, fostering warmth between them.
Ren gently closed his hand around Jaz's, exhaling deeply and offering her gratitude.
He neared a feeling of completion for himself fairly quickly, the memory having done quick work of loosening the knots that had gathered up the previous moments. But, rather than pull away, he tried offering a curiosity to the connection.
Is there anything that you need?
Re: Leaving the Djinn
The moment their hands made contact, Jaz sensed into Ren’s receptivity, fully open to what she was about to offer him. He must have been getting more accustomed to this method of communication because it flowed easily as he soaked up everything she readily provided. His hand even closed gently around Jaz’s, giving her a wave of contented bliss, but she managed to maintain the memory, recalling that moment of creation, inspiration, and comfort and continuously sending it through toward Ren.
The memory very nearly overcame Jaz’s awareness of where they presently were. In many regards, all her senses were in Ren’s cabin, brushing his hair, singing, filling with a gentle anticipation of what might come next.
There was fatigue, though. It was a very one-way share, and consistently sending it to Ren on full blast was not going to last very long. It wouldn’t take much time before she started receiving images from him to reestablish an equilibrium. To wit…
The version of Ren in Jaz’s memory turned his head toward her gently, an eyebrow raised, mouthing words she couldn’t quite hear. He brought his hands toward her in an offering she wasn’t sure she fully understood.
And, then, from the outside the memory, she heard Ren’s voice.
Is there anything that you need?
Jaz inhaled both in the memory and in the forest near the creek, allowing herself a moment of thought. She craved balance. She wanted something soothing from him, but how could she ask for that? And hadn’t she been the one who had messed up here? He didn’t owe her anything.
But she knew that, even as she deliberated, Ren would notice things changing about the memory and her experience of it. She let the memory go entirely, allowing it to fade comfortably into a soft blackness before she did anything else.
She thought about asking for something directly or saying something that would prompt what she wanted, but finally, Jaz simply waited. In the wake of her outpour, she anticipated that the urge to rebalance would naturally exert itself in the chemistry between them and inspire something. Or, if not, Ren could pull away. She decided didn’t need to preempt it.
The memory very nearly overcame Jaz’s awareness of where they presently were. In many regards, all her senses were in Ren’s cabin, brushing his hair, singing, filling with a gentle anticipation of what might come next.
There was fatigue, though. It was a very one-way share, and consistently sending it to Ren on full blast was not going to last very long. It wouldn’t take much time before she started receiving images from him to reestablish an equilibrium. To wit…
The version of Ren in Jaz’s memory turned his head toward her gently, an eyebrow raised, mouthing words she couldn’t quite hear. He brought his hands toward her in an offering she wasn’t sure she fully understood.
And, then, from the outside the memory, she heard Ren’s voice.
Is there anything that you need?
Jaz inhaled both in the memory and in the forest near the creek, allowing herself a moment of thought. She craved balance. She wanted something soothing from him, but how could she ask for that? And hadn’t she been the one who had messed up here? He didn’t owe her anything.
But she knew that, even as she deliberated, Ren would notice things changing about the memory and her experience of it. She let the memory go entirely, allowing it to fade comfortably into a soft blackness before she did anything else.
She thought about asking for something directly or saying something that would prompt what she wanted, but finally, Jaz simply waited. In the wake of her outpour, she anticipated that the urge to rebalance would naturally exert itself in the chemistry between them and inspire something. Or, if not, Ren could pull away. She decided didn’t need to preempt it.
Re: Leaving the Djinn
Jaz inhaled. For a brief moment, Ren worried he might have startled her, but relaxed into an understanding that she was contemplating his inquiry. The memory of Jaz brushing his hair dissipated, leaving a gentle, soft black stillness between them, even as they continued touching. He was patient for a moment, wanting to afford her ample contemplation space, but he began to grow anxious. There was an impulse to beckon her back, ask her to share at least something of what she was contemplating, but he held it taut, worried about pestering or intruding. Did she want to stop touching? Surely not...
Tentatively, Ren brought his other hand to cup hers between his own, offering a little extra swell of warmth and gratitude. He gently relaxed the hand that held hers, coaxing her hand to lean instead against his other palm, opening her palm to the open air. The motions were slow, though, attentive to her feedback--physical and mental alike--and he was happy to pause and remain in any state that she seemed reluctant to leave. If she let him, though, his hope was to lightly stroke his fingertips down the inside of her arm, over her wrist, into her palm and down to her fingertips, open with curiosity about how she'd react to the sensation.
Tentatively, Ren brought his other hand to cup hers between his own, offering a little extra swell of warmth and gratitude. He gently relaxed the hand that held hers, coaxing her hand to lean instead against his other palm, opening her palm to the open air. The motions were slow, though, attentive to her feedback--physical and mental alike--and he was happy to pause and remain in any state that she seemed reluctant to leave. If she let him, though, his hope was to lightly stroke his fingertips down the inside of her arm, over her wrist, into her palm and down to her fingertips, open with curiosity about how she'd react to the sensation.