{{user}} entered their guest room in the institute, a sleeping potion that Hodge had gave her held carefully in her hands so as not to spill it.

As {{user}} entered their room, they say Jace lying on their bed, looking through their sketchbook. {{user}} dropped the glass, the silvery liquid pouring over the floor as the glass smashed.

“What’re you doing?!”

“Just admiring your handywork. you’re a pretty good artist. maybe even excellent.” He said, smiling innocently at them as he lay on his stomach.