The Institute, New York, Friday

Isabelle felt wretched. Between waiting for the Clave to come up with a ruling about Clary, and the calls with Flick and Joi just now, she was feeling terrible. She was standing by the window with Church in her arms, stroking the cat's head absently while cuddling him close to her chest.

( Clary was sitting on Isabelle's bed between a pile of magazines and a rattling stack of seraph blades. )

[ooc: NFB, NFI, OOC-okay! Edited from Cassandra Clare's City of Lost Souls. SECOND-TO-LAST BOOK, PEOPLE!]

New York, Friday

Simon was waiting for Clary, Alec, and Isabelle outside the Institute, under an overhang of stone that only just protected him from the worst of the rain. He turned as they came out through the doors, a question in his eyes.

"I'm cleared," Clary said, and as he started to smile, she shook her head. "But they're de-prioritizing the search for Jace. I — I'm pretty sure they think he's dead."

( CLEARLY I HAVE MADE SOME BAD DECISIONS )

[ooc: NFB, NFI, OOC-okay, still from City of Lost Souls.]