<TIAMAT> *It's been a little over a week since Genoa spoke with Gem on the roof about Teal's latest case regarding some of the underground blackmarket dealings at the Arena -- the lead at Menoie's Darklight turned out to be a dead end, as someone apparently tipped off the ring leaders before Teal could get to them.

<TIAMAT> *On this particular evening, we find one Miss Sol, established bard and painter and head of the Riverrun Center of the Arts, in quiet discussion with ... an old friend.

<JETMODE> <Jimsey> You're sure you can make this work, Sol? It's gonna be one crazy mess if he fouls up.

<TIAMAT> *Sol gives him a rather superior look. "Of course this will work. You've seen Jansk's work before. It's unlike anything the Arena's ever seen."

<JETMODE> *Jimsey leans back, knuckling his forehead. "That's true enough, babe." He grins briefly. "Can't help the jitters, you know? This is a major operation."

<TIAMAT> *Sol snorts quietly. "I'm well aware of that, Jimsey. It's a bit late for having second thoughts now, though, I daresay. We've put far too much time and energy into this to back out at this point."

<JETMODE> <Jimsey> I know, I know. 'Sides, the kid's got the worst part of it, right? Shit, I've got the shakes. *apologetic look* Sol, babe, I know he's the best of the best, but can I at least see how he does it once? To make sure?

<TIAMAT> *Sol gives him a cool look. "Are you volunteering to be the subject?"

<JETMODE> <Jimsey> *sits up sharply* You NUTS? Naw, I mean -- set him up in the market there -- we can let the poor sap he paints go after it's all over, right?

<TIAMAT> *Sol: Impossible. The subject may go to the authorities if we do. I'd have thought you'd know better, since you're so paranoid over it. *she pauses, looking thoughtful* However, a test run would be ... beneficial, perhaps. Meet me here tomorrow, around noon or so. The market should be plenty busy then.

<JETMODE> <Jimsey> *peers at her a moment, trying to figure out whether she agreed with him or not* Right-o, sure thing. Thanks a million, Sol.

<TIAMAT> *Sol gives him a cold smile. "Anything for you, Jimsey."

<JETMODE> *He grins at her, ignoring the chill. "After all, we are buddies."

<JETMODE> *There's a fumbling sound from the next room, and the door opens, admitting a skinny boy of about ten. He rubs his eyes sleepily as he walks in, dressed in a long nightshirt. His tail is dragging on the floor -- just woke up.

<TIAMAT> *Sol half-turns, her scales rustling softly against the stone floor. She arches an eyebrow slightly. "Jansk, what are you doing up? You should have been sleeping an hour ago."

<JETMODE> <Jansk> *rubs his eyes again* Couldn't sleep. I had a bad dream.

<JETMODE> *Jimsey snorts softly.

<TIAMAT> *Sol shoots Jimsey a look, then slithers over to Jansk, putting a hand on his shoulder. "My dear Jansk, remember what I told you: your dreams are only that -- dreams. They cannot harm you. You needn't be afraid of them."

<JETMODE> <Jansk> *mumbles* I know. But I still can't sleep.

<TIAMAT> *Sol sighs a little. "Perhaps a warm cup of milk and some meditation would help, hmm? You need your rest, Jansk, tomorrow is going to be a busy day."

<JETMODE> <Jansk> *looks up at her questioningly* I thought I was going to get to go to the roof and play tomorrow.

<TIAMAT> *Sol smiles faintly at him. "You will, Jansk, I promise. But we've some work to do beforehand."

<JETMODE> *He wrinkles his nose in annoyance, then sighs. "Can I have my milk now?"

<TIAMAT> *Sol: Of course. *she glances back at Jimsey. "Tomorrow noon. Don't be late.

<JETMODE> <Jimsey> I'm always on time, babe. *he tips a non-existent hat and ambles out*

<TIAMAT> *Sol watches him go, then takes Jansk's hand and starts for the door. "Come along, then, Jansk. Tell me what your dream was about."

<JETMODE> <Jansk> *hesitates, looking embarrassed* Ghosts. Ghosts of people who weren't dead. They were coming after me.

<TIAMAT> *Sol gives him a curious look as she leads the way to the kitchen. "Did you recognize any of them?"

<JETMODE> <Jansk> Nuh-uh. But they told me it was my fault and they had to pay me back. *yawns and scrubs his eyes with his free hand*

<TIAMAT> *Sol takes a pitcher of milk from an ice box -- literally, a box made of magical ice, used to keep foods from spoiling -- pours some into a saucepan, and sets it over low heat to simmer. "What did they say was your fault?"

<JETMODE> *Jansk settles in a chair, his tail switching lazily. "They said I made them like that. That I made them ghosts." He shrugs. "It was just a dream."

<TIAMAT> *Sol: Indeed. Just a dream. *she goes quiet, occasionally stirring the milk until it's warm, then pouring it into a cup and handing it to him with a small smile. "Would you like to meditate a bit?"

<JETMODE> *Jansk takes the milk and gulps it greedily. When he finishes, he wipes his mouth with the back of his arm. "No. I think I can sleep now."

<TIAMAT> *Sol nods. "Very well, then. May you have more pleasant dreams, Jansk."

<JETMODE> *He sets the glass down and slides out of the chair with a shrug. "Maybe." He heads back to his room.