"Yes," Salem said, taking a look at his hand. His mark was still there as well, confirming that whatever happened actually did so, and was not just a really bad trip brought on by drugged food. Unless they wandered off, got tattoos, and then came back while under the influence, at least. He had a lot of thoughts to process, but right now, he was tired. He left Mary on the couch and went to the bedroom, taking his spot in the upper half of the bunk bed they kept. Had to make use of the little space they owned.<br/><br/>Almost as soon as he flopped onto the mattress, he was out. Unlike Joe, he managed to actually feel asleep and had a few vague, nonsensical dreams that he'd forget as soon as he awoke. He hadn't even bothered changing out of his clothes, but somewhere during the time spent in bed, his shoes and scarf had at least come off. When he awoke, he was met with the sound of Aamu's voice. A few tired blinks and a questioning grunt were his response, and after giving them, he sat up and yawned.<br/><br/>Solomon was also in the house, somewhat. He held a similarly faded appearance to Aamu, less 'grey stone creature' and more 'black shadow directly from a nightmare' in this world. He had spent most of the night looking around at everything and getting confused at technology, but after failing to find anything that interested him, he'd instead had a field day with Mary's bookshelf. He was perched atop it, scrolling through a seedy romance novel and voicing his baffled opinion on the actions of its characters, mostly in the forms of half-mumbles under his breaths and amused chuckles.