[h1][center]Shield Town, Black Iron Workshop[/center][/h1]
[hr]


[color=DarkMagenta][b]Jemma[/b][/color] had flown for a while, again. Her shape shrunken down from the emotional high of anger and indignation that expressed itself as a vaguely draconic ... Thing.
Instead, she was herself once more- humanoid with a few extra bits. Her back is populated with a quartet of dark brown and gray feathered wings. Two were used to provide some sort of modesty, even if that wasn't necessarily... Necessary. There were plates of chitin and bone acting as both armor and 'censors'. Because, y'know, people got weird about that, as the whisper of Wolf's voice in the back of her mind mentioned.

Wait. Focus. She was getting distracted as she flew. Jemma focused for a moment, letting her face fall blank as her thoughts rapidly spun back to the memories at the lake. That sensation of a gigantic titan of the deep, watching and moving and observing, but only just barely so. The feeling of serene enormity and immense inconsequence. The unsettling understanding of [that which is more than].
But that was then. This was now, IS, now. The understanding of how better to... charge? Change? Warp? Wield. Summon! Manipulate and control! The circles she could envision and build and fuel and-
FOCUS.

What to do now... Right. Go home, that's the plan. Going home. Go talk to the old boss at Black Iron Workshop, get that last paycheck, say the whole 'hey yeah, hi, I'm not dead!', repeat with Alex... Hm. Well. Maybe not, she [i]did[/i] try to literally eat him upon meeting him again, for the first time, in years. Maybe she wasn't ready for that just yet. She'd figure it out later, it'd be fine.
First, the workshop.
[hr]

The workshop, that was as busy as Jemma had ever seen it. Wow. WHY!?

Someone took one look at her walking up the way, stopped, and gasped. To which Jemma simply waved; and then froze as the poor woman paled, flushed, screamed in delight, and then fainted in short order. 
Which was… certainly a thing! And made even more of a [i]thing[/i] by a young man— [s]Seb! He managed to live through his botched surgery! His eyes looked good![/s]— turning about and shouting.
Which caused others to take up their shouting, between regulars or friends of family regulars or friends of friends… People were excited! Shouting and shrieking and laughing.
Oh. Wow! A welcome home! She was missed! That was a first. … Right? The memories were foggy, of this home place. Of these people, so excited to see her.
It felt somewhat wrong, but oh so right all the same.

[s]Ignore the feeling of creeping apathy in the background, noting how some of those with little to no chrome were like small beacons of [manalight]. Fuel, so close… so…[/s] No.
Focus.
Focus on the call of ‘[b]Dove’s home![/b]’

And smile at that, push the feeling of skin crawling apathy away, and wave! Ignore the feeling of ink swirling under the surface! Ignore it!
“[color=DarkMagenta][b]I’m home! Hey! Hi! Wow! Y’all are… way too kind! Hi! Hello![/b][/color]” Jemma laughed, smiling broadly and only barely restraining the urge to pull her wings tighter around her body. Ink threatened to pulse at her fingers and toes.
Focus. 

Someone rushed up, and her astral eyes tracked every bit of [INTENT] that flowed through the excited figure. Mostly harmless, with twinges of [CONCERN-CURIOSITY-RELIEF]. They babbled at her, thrusting a deeply familiar pair of pants, under shirt, over shirt into her hands. Jemma laughed at this, staring in shock. Not quite her old uniform for the workshop, when she was just apprenticing, but… Familiar! Familiarity! This was good! Ignore the building shell shock of being recognized so widely! It’s fine!