Amariah tilts her head, confers briefly with Pattern through Jane, and says, "I'll join you, if you don't mind, unless he's the going-to-tabloids sort? I don't mind minor rumor about the Second Coming of the Shade Dreamer, but firsthand reports to media outlets should wait."
"He won't go to the tabloids unless there's something in it for him, and I don't think there wil be."
"Okay then. Is this an uninvited teleportation situation or a brainphoning first situation or what? I will follow your lead."
He does that. Rayne is at home, alone - even the flat is familiar, although not completely.
Poof.
Amariah follows. Aura billows out around her - the witchiness blurs her age; she could be twenty, ninety, eight hundred. And she's definitely magical enough to make a custom afterlife. If anyone who sees her in full aura has previously been taken in by an impostor, this will put a stop to that.
He looks at Amariah very intently, for a moment, but his eyes are drawn irresistibly back to Ripper.
"Hi," says Ripper, smirking.
"What in Christ happened to you?" says Rayne. "And who's the witch?"
"Be nice," says Ripper, "she's a friend."
Rayne shakes his head slowly. His daemon climbs up to his shoulder and directs a look of deep suspicion at Amariah, then jumps lightly down to curl up in his armchair while he nods politely to the apparent mythic figure.
"Right," says Ripper. "Isabella Amariah, Ethan Rayne. And me - let's say I'm not the Ripper you know."
"I can tell," Rayne murmurs.
Amariah chuckles softly. Path turns his head around and around, taking in the room.
"Where'd you come from?" says Rayne.
"Another universe," Ripper says cheerfully.
Rayne snorts. "Figures. And what are you doing here?"
"Visiting," says Ripper. "By the way, friendly word - if you're ever thinking of faking your own death, don't do it."
Rayne gives him a thoughtful look. Ripper shrugs.
"You are different," says Rayne. "And I'm, what, supposed to introduce you to the local?"
"That was the idea," Ripper agrees.
"Fine. He'll be back soon. Cup of tea in the meantime?"
"I'd love one," says Ripper. He sits down in one of the two chairs not currently occupied by a daemon.
[Faking his death would have kind of different fallout here compared to Origin,] Amariah points out to Ripper, helping herself to the other chair.
Rayne goes to put the kettle on. Rayne's daemon climbs onto the arm of Rayne's chair and perches there, tail flicking, peering at Amariah and Path.
Path looks impassively at her. His do-not-touch aura doesn't apply to the cat, but the fact that he's on Amariah's shoulder is probably sufficient deterrent.
The cat regards him steadily for a few more seconds, then turns and jumps to the arm of Ripper's chair and butts her head against his hand. He makes a startled sound, then pets her tentatively; she curls up in his lap and purrs.
[So to what extent do you understand what just happened?] Amariah asks Ripper.
[His soul walked up to you and solicited petting. There are special cases - Jokers in particular are special cases - but the overwhelming majority of daemons literally never do that, and the ones that do save it for their very, very favorite people in the world. And he didn't ask and he did it in front of me, which suggests he's not just checking to see if it's okay - which it could have not been.]
[Yeah, I know all about Jokers being special cases. But... well, he's Rayne. It's not all that surprising when I think about it. Same reason I knew he wouldn't freak out too hard that I don't have a daemon. I'm not the me he knows, but I'm still me. Rayne lives a very me-focused life.]
Path stares right back. Amariah, though, closes her eyes, and prompts Jane to deliver reading material by brainphone while they wait for the local Ripper.
Rayne glances at Ripper. Ripper smiles. Rayne raises his eyebrows. Ripper laughs. After a moment, so does Rayne.