[Oh, I'm happy for him. Might call him first.]

[Sure, pet.]

So he tries Jackson's old number.

The number now belongs to a Hardee's.

He apologizes, hangs up, and starts going down the list of contacts to inform them he's alive, there were problems involving his family and some personal stuff and he had to quite literally disappear, how're you doing, is everything alright...

People are surprised to hear from him. A couple of people don't remember him at all; one of them only remembers him as a girl and has forgotten about the shapeshifting part.

He'll do some small talk where it sounds like it'll be welcome, and catches up with whoever wants to be caught up with. And, most relevantly, he'll wonder about what they're doing right now, whether anything they mention about jobs or what-have-you might sound interesting for him to pursue.

(Also he doesn't suppose any of them would remember Jackson's number or email by any chance?)

Jackson was not very popular, alas. Myeisha is able to dig up an email he sent her once about a class thing and report the address to Sadde, "but he might not check it anymore."

He thanks her anyway, sends that address an email, and after he's talked to everyone...

Tries to find a job.

The job market for eclipsed remains high-paying, vaguely predatory, and diverse.

Anything better than that one job he'd had lined up for someone who can't yet strictly heal a lot more than mildly scratched bones?

If he can't do much yet his options are fairly limited - long term contract type stuff - but he can take somewhat lower paying, erratic-hours emergency response work such that any healing improves the odds of getting to the hospital alive and occasional untested healing can be legally papered over.

He asks Isabella's opinion on this.

[The hours sound brutal, do you know how you'd cope with that?]

[I think on my end it'd be okay? I've never had trouble adapting to different sleeping patterns, and this gives me lots more freedom to do other things in ten years but then I'm not sure it's mildly likely that I'll doing other things in ten years.]

[I mean, flexibility is good even if you might not turn out to need it, that's kind of the point. Can you think about magic effectively while in a screaming ambulance?]

[I think so—I'd probably need to focus on magic or something to distract myself and not dwell on the people I'll invariably be unable to save.]

[Well, needing a coping strategy isn't the same as being able to reliably implement that most productive of same.]

[I suppose. I don't have any prior experiences that translate directly to that, only tangentially. My best guess is I'd be able to deal with it, and it'd wreck me sometimes, but it wouldn't impact my effectiveness at the magic thing.]

[How wrecked a pet would I occasionally come home to?]

[I'm not sure what scale to use, and it'd depend on the case—curled up ball of misery sounds like an extreme that might be reached rarely, most of the time I'd expect to just be in a very sour mood and want to be cuddled and reminded that we're fixing everything ever?]

[That sounds doable. If you want the job go for it.]

[Think I will.]

He looks into requirements for the job and what he'd need to do and where he'd need to go and interviews and stuff.

There'd be a training period. He will have to demonstrate his healing ability. They don't specify in the listing what the interview process is like.

Does he have to call or should he just email? Do they need a resumé, he hasn't really done anything in his life.