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It's easier than ever for his eyes to find those places where the veil is thin and cross over. Jeremiah finds he has been making more of a habit of it lately, especially after the ball. If it had taught him anything, anything at all, it was that they were still not ready.

Not everyone at least.

Not for what this all could really mean.

Sometimes it was easier to let himself walk through other ashdown to clear his thoughts, to give himself focus. The only thing he finds himself focusing on is the fact that is that he hardly knows anything even with all of the knowledge he has now.

He moves suddenly in a flash, a spark of cold fire. It was meant to test his limits, to see how far he could go, and he reappears far down along the street breathing heavily. His fingers curl briefly but straightening back out because even he has to admit to himself that that was basically him doing something out of frustration more than practice.

Jeremiah does not jump, or startle, instead he lets out a breath and straightens up as he turns toward Ezra.

"Right now? No." It is an honest response. "I do find, however, that I am quite tired of being told I lack the spine to do anything." Yet he had not pushed that night, had kept himself out of sight and lurked in the shadows. If he had not, if he had-

He has been talk and no action and even he has to admit that now.

"They are the currency of this world." Jeremiah shifts, fingers stretching out at his side and then relaxing. "... not that I know much about it, it seems." The conversation with Liam Noor comes to mind. He had, even growing up, had never liked it when people talked over his head.

"The time for sitting back has passed, has it not? Not with the sword gone and the crown shattered. The stars are the last thing left and then what?" A hand flips through the air. "We fight? We surrender?" Break?

"There is no sitting back, no more lurking," he moves on. "You said once you did not want me removed so early but I'm working towards that at this pace. If I am to play a part, this part, then I would rather dive in and take control." In that, at least, there would be some measure of control - even if it was an illusion. Jeremiah was tired of waiting for things to happen. Of further breaking his promise through either inaction or not realizing the consequences of his action until much later.

Jeremiah blinks at that, not quite expecting it, but there's little to argue about it. The world did trade in blood as a currency. His mouth opens to speak but then it closes as he thinks. It's not a long pause, just the space of a few heartbeats.

"Talk is cheap," he says finally. "It's time to take action but I don't-" He lets out a breath. "I've lost direction." Not knowing where he fit into this was eating at his thoughts.

Jeremiah tilted his head as his eyes tried to read something there in Ezra's expression. There was nothing there to be read, simply fire, but he studied him regardless. His thoughts raced and kept coming back to the fact that it was under Ezra's brief tutelage that he found himself finding his footing, finding his way with the magic of other ashdown and his power over it.

He breathed in.

Thought of Algie, of the mansion where he had watched him die and then died himself. Thought of Blackfriars, of Michael and the blood that had been spilled. Thought of the ball, of Algie stepping forward for them all, of Adoelle as her throat was cut, of how Algie had been when they had gotten home, of the guilt he could not shake.

"Yes," he breathed out before he started to second guess himself. Algie was at the forefront of his thoughts but his answer was given. This felt necessary, that it had to be done, because if he did not find his footing, conquer that which was crippling him, then he would fail Algie as well as himself.

"Yes," he repeated. "If that is what you are offering then I will take it." Not that it stopped the sudden ache he felt, the twist in his gut.

Jeremiah's mouth twitched at dear boy but then were hands on his face and they do not burn him but feel oddly familiar and it is not something he can even begin thinking about.

The world fades to black.