Chase is running high off the magic. He always is, these days. And why not? He grins, just thinking about it. He's laying sprawled on Jack's bed in his rover, feet on the wall, head dangling off one side, and lazily perusing the prince's comically large ring collection. They all dance and shimmer in the air above him, plucked from their resting places with magic, and now turning to catch in the light when they float by: each looks meticulously clean, bright like they were almost before they were new. Chase had wanted to see them. See them see them. "So what's with all these, anyway?"