Jay, wearing the most ridiculous frilly nightgown this side of steampunk cosplay traditions, has sleepily wandered into the Lounge, in search of a nightcap. He's not been sleeping well at all, between homesickness and longing for Mara and Raimut (it's surprisingly hard to fall asleep on his own, alone in his bed) and the horrible, nagging knowledge of the upcoming Arena and deathmatch. He's going to die, very soon, and the fact he'll resurrect does nothing to comfort him at all.

He wonders what sort of afterlife he'd be going to, before he's brought back to life. Would he go to his father's former gods? To his and his mother's Lord? Or will Raimut's underwater goddess take him in death, after he served her interests as a necromancer in life?

He really does not want to find out. He doesn't even want to think of such things -- he's twenty! Far too young to dwell on one's place in the world to come. So he wanders down to the Lounge to drink something strong and mind-numbing and hopefully pass out, dreamlessly.

He doesn't remember his dreams, lately, but he wakes up upset and shaking.

He spots Wyatt and comes over to watch him out of pure curiosity. He's a little too intimidated to start up conversation, but he tries anyway.

"Evening, dearest. Can't sleep?"

An obvious comment, but he's got nothing else right now.