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"No, but we were acquaintances, clearly. So I would assume some familiarity. I'm actually going to look into the files at work soon. See if I can find any record of ... myself." A shake of his head but he nodded about the necklace all the same.

"You'd have to look into her, to find out anything, if there's something unique about her then that could be a clue." Jeremiah's fingers were curled around his cup. "I've been involved before, even if I don't know how often. That that thing knew me, that Sunny has known me before, the portrait ..." He let out a breath across the top of the tea cup as it was raised to his lips and took a sip.

"The difference is that some of us chose this, Zac. Heliodora, Adoelle, and Michael? They made the choice to hold back the dark. I made the choice to get involved, you chose to investigate ... Others? They seem like they're just dragged in simply by being in proximity." The cup was set back down. "Our humanity may be the price we pay, the only way we can stand a chance, but that makes this that much more serious."

"I meant the blonde in the painting but ... Sunny had Mister Tenebrous seems ... in tune with everything else." Jeremiah looked down briefly. This was still a sore topic, a very sore topic. "She misses me." A breath. "All the time, she told me before I ran into the eternal burning fire."

His fingers flexed in and out around his teacup. "If they had all the information, it's been forgotten after all this time. It's been thousands of years for them. We don't know why Sunny wants them back home either and ... I can only bring two of them home now." A hand smoothed across his face.

"Humanity isn't genetics, it's our actions, our emotions. How we relate to other people. If things strip us of that piece by piece, we may lose sight of what we're really trying to do, what we're trying to save. If we somehow turn into that which we're trying to stop ... How's that help?" It was a serious consideration.

"I don't know." It was an honest answer. "As old as she is, as many times as she's seen us go through these motions ..." He shook his head once more. "Perhaps she's simply missing another version or that our lives, to her, are so fleeting we're gone in a blink of the eye."

Zac was given a short nod, Jeremiah letting out a sigh. "I mentioned it because I am not so certain that if my eyes were looked at they would be human eyes." Not that it was really an issue because it meant nothing in the long run. Jeremiah could still connect with other people and that was his main concern in everything.

"It is," he agreed, "and all we can do is strive to make sure it doesn't happen this time." At the mention of visiting Sunny, he sighed. "I have no problems with you visiting her, Sunny. If anything, I encourage it but considering that she has not been pulling her punches where I am concerned, I am leary as well as bound by my deal. If I visit her, it has to be for business only."

"I've made my choice, as she said, and I have to own it." Jeremiah replied, fingers going back to his tea cup and then raising it to take a drink. "Which does include reminding me of any failures or mistakes."

As easily as he was talking about this, it still bothered him but it was kept carefully in check. The detective lieutenant would not crumble under the weight of it anymore. At least not for now.

"Michael is dead, Zac," Jeremiah's voice was even but his eyes darkened a little bit. "Whether or not that it is my fault or not is debatable but I did fail to bring him home."

"No, if she was going to take it, she could have at the department." He agreed, then sighed. "She was brought in before I got the call from Chris about finding Michael's body." ... worse that he had, of all things, about to go see her. To try and have a truce of some sorts.

Not that he was certain it was a good idea. Jeremiah kept his distance because he did not trust himself to not- Jeremiah was handling it as best he could and that did, in this case, involve playing things close to the vest.

"We don't know why she wants them home but it could be something as simple as to avoid things like this. If they're home, if they're here, then they're not in as much danger. Our not so friendly foe wants them dead so that it can be released. With one of the three dead, the sword, we're just that much closer to the dark being released." Jeremiah's tea cup was emptied after one more drink. "... but as I said earlier, while I'm not looking into the paintings right now, I am going to be checking department records for mention of myself. We've got records that go that far back and the kind of situation it was, I doubt seriously that there was not some kind of investigation."

"I can look into it." It was something else to look into, another thing to see if there was more concrete proof of ... past lives. Had they been fighting then too? That was his real question.

"That's essentially it and why I'm looking. They're still in the process of digitizing a lot of the older cases at work and it should make it easier to search, aside from when I'm going to have to dig through the ones not yet converted." It would be tedious and a pain but it could be done.

"Do you mean the one that appeared when she visited Alg at the bookstore? The one with information about Rosalinde and the kittens?" His head tilted to the side. "Or did she find another one?" It would be something else if she had found another but he would not put it past this place at all. As for journals ...

"I've already been keeping one. I always do for cases but since I had that point of losing memories, I've made a point to keep something more detailed and personal." It was true. Jeremiah was never without his small notebook - the one with handwriting so terrible only a couple people could read it - and now there was a larger one he was filling in in the meantime. It was the only way to make sure.

"We can do that. Let me go get my notebook." Jeremiah pushed himself up, fingers scratching at Mogget's fur and then lingering on Zac's shoulder. "Both of those things."

With a squeeze to Zac's shoulder, he disappeared from the kitchen to go to his office and grab his journal. If anything, it would likely be good to discuss some of the things that had happened with his trips.

... and a little magic practice never hurt.