This chapter takes place roughly after Chapter 46 in SFTD.

Mordenna got up to some strange hijinx, trying to hang out with his siblings.

It was fun to mess around with them. Sometimes it was even more fun to mess with them. This was a strange time when the two were overlapping.

When Mordenna had entered the Studio to talk with Jax, instead of sitting down on one of the chairs like he usually did, Mordenna vaulted onto the table and reclined there, talking at Jax with a straight face. His brother... definitely looked like he wanted to say something, but apparently hadn't mustered the urge to argue him down. Fine by Mordenna–it was always a game of seeing who would budge first.

Eventually, however, Jax caved in. "Brother, I can hardly have a civil conversation with you while you're lounging on the table as if you intend to be the next model for the artists."

Mordenna grinned. "What if I'm getting my practice in, huh?"

Jax stared at him a bit... then scoffed, looking away. But even as he seemed to be projecting distaste, there was a certain challenge to his next words. "We all know you could never contain yourself long enough for them to complete a full picture. Heaven knows that you would be leaping off of the table and running laps within ten minutes."

"Oh, yeah?" Mordenna jabbed a finger at Jax. "Betcha you won't. Betcha you wouldn't let me get within a mile of that modelling station."

With a dramatic air, Jax stood up from his seat. Looking Mordenna in the eye, he raised his voice. "Do I have anyone who might be interested in basing a piece off of Mordenna?"

The madman! This was turning into a series of them calling each other's bluffs. Surprisingly, more of Jax's followers than he thought spoke up in affirmation. They moved to set the area up as Jax continued to stare his brother down. "Well, Mordenna? Will you leave them disappointed? Or will you live up to your joke?"

Honestly... Mordenna hadn't been looking to sit down and do nothing for however long it took them to complete a picture of him. He had stuff to do, and in a way, Jax was right—if he knew he had other stuff to do, Mordenna could be strangely impatient. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

But, as he watched all of Jax's little ducklings set up the area, even moving one of the tables over, having seen Mordenna in his recline...

Eh. To hell with it. Mordenna grinned up at Jax. "Don't make bets you don't expect to see happen."

If there was one thing Jax enjoyed, it was his interactions with his followers.

Things had been tentative when they were all getting used to the Avenger, but now that they were a few months in? His whole congregation had eased into life on this mobile ship of theirs, and their fears had relaxed when it was shown that he, himself, was doing alright.

The atmosphere, to him, was far more comforting than the one that hung in the air at his Stronghold... especially in the month or so leading up to Eliza taking him in. The air was clear, here, and there was no looming threat of violence if he didn't meet expectations. Eliza had made that very clear.

So, he was entirely free to be more of a present force amongst his followers. At the moment, he was currently looking over the finished results of his brother's impromptu art session. Curiously, Odette had joined—Jax hadn't thought her one to draw close to his brother after everything. He moved from another Mystic's painting to hers, her scooting aside with her seat to give him a better look.

Odette was one of the more natural painters among the Mystics, and it showed in her skill. Her paintings usually made very good use of rosy light and softer edges—the few darker shadows that did happen seeming to vanish even on the page. He was used to her usual style of art...

... so this was very different. Mordenna had ample lighting on him when he was sitting on his table, but here he was cast in darkness. He had been relaxed in his pose, yet in Odette's expression of him, there was a tenseness to his features, as if he was ready to leap out of the painting at any moment. Odette had been sitting at an angle to him—nearer his head as he stared directly ahead, but this painted Mordenna's eyes were locked directly with the viewer's. His mouth was absent, but by the microexpressions of his facial features, Jax could tell there was a hint of something underneath. Malice? Aggression? It seemed deliberately open to interpretation.

He looked to Odette, who was steadfastly looking away. This was certainly a very different take on his brother—but one he fully understood. This was a glimpse of a Mordenna of old, a being of manifested spite and whim. He didn't blame Odette for still being afraid of him, but for her to brave her fears and express them on canvas? There was a courage to that. Mordenna had left without looking at any of the finished results, confident that they all had done their best. But if he'd gotten a glimpse of this one...

Jax kneeled, taking one of Odette's hands. "Odette," he began, voice soft, "your art is as brilliant as it always is. There is much merit in different interpretation, and you have clearly proven that."

Odette swallowed, finally meeting his gaze. "B-but... we are all reconciled with the Hunter, are we not...? Is... isn't it childish of me to still hold my fear?"

Jax shook his head, bringing her hand to his lips and giving it a reassuring kiss. "With your circumstances, and with my brother's nature, it is completely understandable to still hold the feelings you do. I wish, one day, to help you and him resolve this conflict between the two of you But you are doing just fine, Odette. Do not mistake this."

Odette let go of a tense breath, shallowly nodding. "Ok. I... I want to see things repaired between us, as well. I trust you, Holy Father."

Jax smiled. He, as always, dearly loved his congregation.