There wasn't much wind today, but there was just enough to blow the tips of the treetops to and fro. As she waited, Kanoa's eyes watched the leaves dance. She could faintly hear the sound of the leaves rattle in the wind from a distance, it caused a subtle hint of blue to mingle with the green treetops, making it appear as if waves were gently moving through them. This was the natural state of things, at least it was how she saw it, so when she saw the blues in front of her suddenly turn orange she had to blink a few times in disbelief. The wind picked up ever so slightly, and as the leaves wavered it looked as if the forest was on fire. She looked down to the forest floor, and between the green moss and assorted flora she saw a small red creature staring at her, it was a red fox. Staring may be an understatement, the fox's amber eyes were piercing straight into her and looking even further. Kanoa's violet eyes narrowed, and she glared back. The Fox's eyes gave her a nagging curiosity and feeling of unjustified desire. She had no reason to, but she wanted to follow the fox, she felt as if she had an obligation to. She gripped the chains of the swing and prepared to stand, but a voice snapped her out of her trance. The fox ran off, and the orange hues changed back to blue. Kanoa turned her head to see Raven, she was the first to arrive this time, she really was eager. She had brought more cupcakes, which she may have been more excited for if she wasn't mindful of her diet. If Raven did this often Kanoa would need to incorporate a workout schedule for them all. "I did, actually." She said, standing up and moving behind Raven. She pushed her back, causing her to swing forward. She continued lightly pushing her, not really wondering if it was even a bother. "Probably thought about it more than I needed to, considering we aren't going to talk to the missing boy's parents at all." Kanoa pressed her lips tightly together and made a humming noise, if her brain were an engine, that would be the sound it made when it was on the fritz. "Sorry I guess, you wanted to do something useful, right? Don't worry about it, I have a feeling you'll get another chance soon." As she kept pushing Raven, Cory arrived, simply asking if he was late. If it weren't for the desk in the club room with a hole in it, Kanoa would swear that Cory was just an average guy. He hadn't said much at all, and he seemed as if he thought he didn't belong here. Mary and Maxwell soon arrived, the later of which silently greeting them and standing off to the side. Kanoa almost wished she had a camera with her, he looked like he belonged on the cover of an album for a band that sung about how crappy life was. Mary gave a sarcastic remark to Cory's question, sarcasm seemed to be Mary's own personal dialect. "Hello everyone." She greeted them with a lazy smile, still pushing Raven. She wasn't looking at what she was doing, and now the pale skinned girl was soaring back and forth, perhaps a bit too high at this point. "It's still a theory at this point, but that leaf burning up when August touched it leads me to believe that we're dealing with a spirit, a shapeshifting one, possibly. This could be potentially dangerous I'll have you know, so be on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary... or anything excessively ordinary." Kanoa hummed again. "I'd like to wait until the others get here, but feel free to ask me anything, and to eat Raven's cupcakes."

"Oh good, for a second I was worried I had developed pyro powers." August vaulted the fence, her incredibly long braid swaying behind as she landed and trotted over to the group, a black backpack on her shoulders. The pack had two flashlights, a screwdriver and pliers, a heavy hunting knife, a rope, several water bottles, and some granola bars. August had wandered the woods enough to know there were some places light just didn't touch, and it was always better to be prepared and not need something than to need it and not have it. The electric tools were just always with the girl as a matter of habit. Forgoing a heavy sweater, this time she was in a simple blue long sleeve thermal with ripped black jeans and a pair of running shoes. A bright pink beanie with what appeared to be over-sized dog ears sewn to the sides sat atop the mountain of hair as she gave a yawn, rubbing her eyes behind a pair of aviator sunglasses. Her regular glasses were in the backpack as well, just in case. August trumped over to the slide, walking up it easily before sitting at the top and giving a wave to the assembled group. Everyone seemed to have dressed up for anything BUT a romp through the woods. Except Mary, though she doubted that was so much preparation and more just not really caring too much. "Shape shifter, cool." August's mind was already barreling forward, the logic train had no brakes. Why did her touch cause it to burst into flames but not Kanoa's? What about fire made it more likely to be a shapeshifter? Could the shifter turn into anything? Could it turn into one of them? Could it turn into fire or water and burn or drown them? The red head quirked her lips for a second before settling on one to ask Kanoa, who appeared to be enjoying pushing the doll on the swing. Cuuute. In a horror movie sort of way. "So can this thing turn into one of us or is it limited? Cause if it can turn into one of us, we may want like...a call sign to show we're real. Like military, you know. I say Flash, you say Thunder. And we may want to think it up before we go somewhere it could hear us." August really didn't want to be put in a situation where she'd need to find out which Cory was real and which Cory needed to be pushed off a cliff or stabbed or ghost busted or whatever they were going to do. Come to think of it, Cory would probably be easy to distinguish between a shape shifter...he could just blast a hole in a tree to prove it. The others...not so much. Maybe August would be the one who'd need to prove who she was. The thought gave her a slight sinking in her stomach. She didn't really trust any of the others here to not just remove both her and the shifter out of laziness or some misguided sense of efficiency. Oof, not dying today would be awesome thank you.

"Whose to say it can't already," Jackson said upon his arrival, looking a little tired. He was also wearing some tough-looking jeans, a hooded flannel jacket with a thermal long sleeve underneath it, some hiking boots, and a special kind of watch that seemed to double as a compass. He also had knives, three rather large hunting knives on a holster around his waist, all sheathed, and an ornate thowing knife in hand, being flipped over and over in his hand with a practiced ease, the naked silver blade gleaming in the light of dawn. "If it can shapeshift, then it can be anywhere, so watch you should back and stay on guard." Jackson groaned slightly, gripping his head in pain, his knife flipping inreasing in frequency as his fristration grew. "Man, I had the worst sleep last night. I don't have a clue why, but I don't feel rested at all, and I've had a splitting headache since this morning. That aside,, how have you guys been doing?" Jackson yawned as he rested against a tree, now taking to spinning the knife around in his hands. "Oh, and good morning."

Cory, in response to Mary's biting sarcasm, said nothing, only issuing her a cursory glance to make sure she was who he had thought she was. It had been difficult remembering the names of his new "friends", if that's even what these people were or would become. There was Kanoa, easy enough to remember, sounds like canoe and is quite unique. Plus, the gregarious girl was also the club's leader, so remembering her name was his priority. His gaze turned to look at Raven, squinting a little to make out the intricacies of her outfit as she flew too and fro on the swingset. It wasn't that difficult for Cory to remember her name either: Ravens are black, and Raven wears black. After his momentary lapse in focus, Cory returned his attention to the group as Kanoa began to speak. Talk of shapeshifters caused cory to quirk a brow and subtly check the expressions of the rest of the group. It all seemed a little, extraordinary to Cory. Sure, he could create voids of space, but surely that could be explained by a scientist. Perhaps it had something to do with dark matter, or rifts in space time, whatever the case, Cory was convinced that his power was more mundane than the ability to shapeshift. Nevertheless, he retained his silence, hands tucked into his jacket pockets as he listened to the group natter away.

Raven was not used to the interaction but found it quite enjoyable. Perhaps they could be friends, like true friends instead of acquaintances. Maybe she could invite her over for tea and they could go on a walk or whatever it was that friends do for fun. Kanoa was beginning to leave a very good impression in Raven’s mind, something that was equally frightening. She had originally cared very little about what these students thought, she could do as she pleased and leave whenever it suited her. There was no contract signed and there were other’s to fill her spot but things were getting interesting, even though not much about this mystery had unfolded yet. It was the curiosity of it all that really gripped her and made her stay--what could be, what would be…how this would all turn out. It had killed cats, curiosity that is. Unfortunately she did not receive the answer she was hoping for but Violet, Raven’s nickname for her, must have sensed Raven’s sincere motive and self-conciseness. Perhaps on a later date, should the occasion arise…she had a feeling Violet was trying to console her just in case she ended up being the hopeless black sheep of the group of super friends. Teeth began to nibble on her glossy bottom lip in thought; she was wallowing in self-pity again like a puppy deprived of a treat. Pathetic. The motion from the swing softened the blow, and the height along with the wind whisking through black curled tresses—since her hood had fallen down. Raven’s posture straightened up further as Cory came into view, her hues glistening from glee. She was not sure why he had captured her interest because he was dreadfully quiet--painfully so. Raven wondered how anyone could be quieter than herself. It wasn’t like she did not have things to say, she choose not to but Cory…he severely restrained himself. Buried deep within something dwelled there, waiting to burst out—or not. Maybe they were more alike than she had originally thought besides appearances. He was no doubt gorgeous to anyone’s eyes but she was an acquired taste. The dark Lolita was not sure they would even mesh well given their personalities or go beyond a simple hello; he seemed uninterested in almost—everything. Following his arrival strode Maxwell. Someone she had not focused on much yesterday. He had a dominating aura, so he was not easily missed--she just had not centered her soul attention on the man. Prying vast eyes away from Cory she examined the one with fascinating grey hair. Grey was a color she was quite fond of so that was a good start. Before finishing her observations she thought it best to stop. Basing her opinions on the appearances of others was not the grandest idea, however. Raven had made a note to stop being so physically judgmental, it wasn’t like she had never been on the receiving end of a cruel perception but it was a difficult trait to alter. Pixie made her presence known in the form of a sarcastic quip per usual and Red leisurely sauntered catching up to the group, braid swinging behind like a tail. Topic for today: Shapeshifting, as mentioned by Violet and investigated by Red. Questions were ablaze from the red head that resembled Sherlock Holmes at this moment. Raven could picture a deerstalker cap upon her head and smoke bellowing out of briar pipe. This made her smile for a moment before beginning to listen more intently at the conversation. Call signs were a bit much but Jackson made acknowledgment to keep a sharp eye out. This Shapeshifter was probably more intelligent than they were giving it credit for. It had a plan already, a goal, and wouldn’t stop until it was accomplished. This was all just leading up to the grand finale. “When do we explore the woods?” Raven kindly asked, her voice trailing while gliding through the air. They wouldn’t find what they were looking for by asking questions. They needed to search for more clues. Everything would eventually fall into place but they needed to act.

Maxwell watched as a brown withered leaf floated to the ground in front of him and closed his eyes as trying to banish the thought that even now wormed its way into his consciousness. It was him that had caused the leaf to fall. He dared not look to see if it was true. If the tree was already withered with the season than there was no way of knowing for certain if he was the one inflicting such a sapping of life or not. And if the tree was withered only in his direction then it was all but certain that it was him causing it. Either way he could not rule himself out as the cause. Had he even been here long enough to realistically be the cause? He noticed Kanoa looking at him and turned his gaze to the side. “Hey,” he replied stoically and listened to her explanation of the previous days events. The thought occurred to him that it might be worth trying the same thing with the leafs that fell from the plants nearby whenever he lingered near them. Would it be possible for a similarly telling reading to be performed? But that question aside he had a concern. “And why does it lead you to believe that?” he asked Kanoa with earnest interest. Already one of Raven's blandly appealing cupcakes hovered in the air to his side as if held by an invisible hand. He made no attempt to eat it as he listened to the newly arrived August. He agreed with her. “That might work, assuming that whatever it is isn't watching us right at this very moment. Hell it could it already be here. One of us. We need something a little more...personal. Or unique. Something that can't easily be imitated,” he said as he trailed off into a moment of silent consideration. Something that was unique to him. Did he have such a thing? He grimaced in the realization that he did indeed have such a thing. He had reservations about voicing his idea aloud but it seemed a worthwhile enough idea with how little he knew for certain. “What I mean is, I have this power, right? To move things with thought alone. But it's not unique, or at least I'm guessing its not. I'm willing to bet that a great many of those beasties in that brain of yours have the ability to do something similar, if not in fact than at least in appearance,” he said motioning toward Kanoa. He used his power to snatch a leaf from the air. There was still a little life in it yet, which would serve to prove his point.“I didn't mention this before but since the accident plants die really quickly around me, as if I'm draining the life out of them.” As he voiced his idea the already partially withered leaf started to turn completely brown as it was held aloft as if eager to prove his words true. “So if you guys ever think that I've been replaced you know what to look for.”

As the others arrived, Kanoa listened to what they had to say. She was glad they had eased into this 'weirdness' so easily, not many people could hear the word shapeshifter and start to think of countermeasures right away. August suggested they use call signs, Kanoa stared at the dog ears on her hat. That hat was criminally adorable, she needed a hat like that. She blinked and her brain reminded her that it was trying to work here. Call signs were a good idea, however, there was a problem with them in this situation. Jackson alluded to said problem, It could in fact be anywhere, they couldn't be sure that nothing was listening to them at this very moment. 'Getting closer...' She thought to herself, there was a simple solution to this issue, and she wondered if any of them had thought of it. Raven spoke, causing her to jump slightly as she turned to her and realized she was about a foot away from launching the girl off the swing. She stopped pushing the lolita and put her hands in her pockets. "We can leave now actually, no need to wait any longer." She said. There was still a few members missing, but she had a feeling she would run into them later. Kanoa stepped out of the playground's wood chip flooring just as Maxwell spoke. She gazed quizzically at the leaf in his hand as it quickly shriveled. Now here was something she wasn't so familiar with. The eerie feeling she got from him made much more sense now. An aura that was both cold and inviting, what else could that be but death? She would need to look into his condition later, that was for sure. "Huh, that explains why the gardening club has been so upset lately... But uh, I have a simpler method. If we ever get separated and run into each other, just say where our meeting room is. It's something we all know, so it doesn't have to be said right now." Nodding her head in satisfaction, Kanoa turned towards the forest. "Well, let's go." Stepping under the trees it wasn't long before they were all under a blanket of shade, though thankfully it was not dark enough to require a flashlight. "Say..." Kanoa said to the group as she leaped over a mossy log. "Have any of you heard the stories of the mythical Kitsune?"

"Yeah," Jackson said as he follwed Kanoa, feeling at ease and energized from being in the forest, he felt the urge to twirl around, but quickly surpressed the whimsical urge. "They'tre fox spirits that have blue fire, rale human form, and can ma-" Jackson stopped talking as a realization donned on him. "We're chasing a kitsune, aren't we." He asked, though his tone implied there was no real need to answer that question. "Okay, we're chasing a magic, fire flinging fox, but why did it kidnap the guy we're looking for. I'm not to familiar with it, just no about it from some animes I've watched." Jackson looked down at his silver bladed dagger, wonderung if it be any use against Kitsune. European stories say it's good for harming evil, but who's to say it'd work on the japanese spirit. That tnought brought another question to mind. "Hey, what would a Japanese spirit be doing all the way here in America, anyway? It seems a bit far away from home." 'You'd be surprised how easy it is to get lost when you're a spirit boy, the world becomes a whole lot smaller then.' Aphosis said, whispering into Jackson mond siuggestions on where on each person he shpuld plant the knife. Jackson did his best to tune him out, but it was a bit hard considering his headache and lack of sleep.

Duuuuuude This was like, hypnotic, or something. Mary watched, mesmerized, as Kanoa pushed Raven on the swing... higher and higher. It was like watching this anime character and like... this perfect porcelain doll swinging on a pendulum. Aside from the occasional sip of coffee, or the bite of a cupcake, Mary ignored the world in favor of the simplicity of the swinging woman. Her eyes went from left to right with each crest and drop and her head followed, like she was watching the ball at a tennis match. It wasn't just that the women were pleasant to watch either, although that was certainly part of the appeal, there was something deeply appealing about the mere motion being displayed. On like, a spiritual level. If Mary was less tired, or perhaps more high, she'd certainly have something more profound and poetic to say about it than 'The pretty girl goes up and down!'-- As it stood though, she was kind of hypnotized by it. So much so she hadn't even heard what the others were saying. So, then, when the swinging stopped and Kanoa began walking towards the forest, Mary was completely lost. She merely followed behind the group as it took on something of a natural formation in a daze. August and Jackson seemed ready to camp a week in the hunt for the Sasquatch. Mary, meanwhile, trailed behind and took another sip of her coffee. 'Where are you going to put the cup when you're done with it?' Mary stepped over a ridge that appeared to be a snake's burrow, she looked down at her cup with wide eyes. FUCK That was a really good question. Mary took another sip of the brown liquid ambrosia as they made their way further into the shade. Corey was being irrelevant, August was probably suffering withdrawal symptoms from a lack of technology, Raven was too good for the eyes of this forest, and so was Maxwell, apparently. Kanoa and Jackson opened up a dialogue about Japanese foxes. "It's probably just some weeabo furry spirit. Like, I bet it can't even speak Japanese, it's just some ghost that watched too much anime and wants to prove itself to the real OG Kitsunes in glorious Nippon." Another sip. Mary stepped carefully over the mossy log. Looking up she noted how truly dark the forest was, despite the time of day, it seemed so familiar... "Wait." Mary stopped in her tracks, tilting her head to looked to Kanoa, "Where are we going even? Like there can't only be one tree with that kind of special leaf or whatever..." Placing a hand on her waist, Mary lowered her voice to that of a mother accusing a child of stealing from the cookie jar, "Kanoa! Are going to slaughter us all and feast on our nubile and ripe teen bodies?" Another sip of coffee, "If so can you kill me last? I want to see how Raven tastes." Christ I'm creepy. Yep.

"What the hell.." Cory thought to himself, his brow furrowing and his lips adopting a cringe as the conversation moved onto Japan, Anime, and a manner of other weird things. Yet he was already immersed in this world of strangeness, why not continue onwards? And so, Cory forced himself into the conversation, hands still bundled in his pockets as he walked. "I can't say I really know much about Kit-soons, but uh, I watched Dragon Ball Z when I was little, that was anime, wasn't it?" he offered, not entirely sure of how else he could contribute to the conversation which incrementally inched further and further from anything he could talk confidently about. Before he could decide on what else to add to the discussion, Mary thankfully took the reigns of the discussion, leading it further into the realm of absurdity. Her comment on furry weeb spirits flew confidently over Cory's head, though he was thankful all the same that he no longer needed to talk. "What a weird bunch.." he thought, trailing his fingers across the bark of the trees he passed, leaving lines of blank space.

"Said the boy who removes existence with his fingers." August said cheerfully as she walked by Cory, lips quirked as she idly listened to everyone tromping around. Ignoring the fallacy of the spirit deciding to randomly eavesdrop on a group of kids it happened to come across at that exact section at the edge of the forest and decided specifically to listen for ways it could usurp their, up until now, unknown plan to stop it *which wasn't totally unfeasible* ignoring the fact that August had prepared for a hike and Jackson had prepared for a week long military assassination mission and managed to once again put her on edge by his garbled paranoia and the sheer amount of knives he had brought, ignoring that Mary was not only higher than balls judging by her wide eyed wonderment at her coffee cup, but also drooling over Raven's existence, ignoring Raven's drool over Cory, the boy who was too good for everything, ignoring Maxwell's silence after coming up with his own way of proving himself to others, and ignoring Kanoa staring at her beanie like a hound eyeballing a chunk of beef...it was quite pleasant here. Not enough things to tinker with though...she fiddled with her cellphone in it's pocket as she looked around, pouting slightly at the lack of things she could focus her thoughts on. Mary's objection caught her attention. "If Kanoa is sticking with her usual methods here, I imagine she has a destination in mind, or something to work off of, but is not telling us in order to see if we can figure it out ourselves, or perhaps to see our reactions to how we handle being in a situation with little information about it at all." Logic. So much logic. This was starting to become a downer. "Or, you know. The nubile feasting thing or something. Pretty sure I'd taste like burned jerky." Boring...bored. Lethargy? A spiral of emotions, old and faded, flew out across the trees. Hikers, wanderers, animals, lovers, it was all here. Painted in vivid swathes of invisible color. She could taste every nervous touch stolen behind a tree. Hear every fright from the scared prey hiding from the predator. Smell the giddiness from hikers previous. It was almost too much. She took a deep breathe for a moment, clearing her head and focusing on her own emotions, lest they flew away and were replaced. Her brother's old knife wasn't helping much, apparently it had been in the room when he lost his virginity. Gross...boring. Emotions, too many. Too many faltering whimsies. After awhile, August just found everyone to be so...bland. She had experienced so much with her new gift, she had felt so many beautiful, horrible, wondrous moments stolen from the memory of others. She was one of the few people who could probably understand anyone, no matter the situation. And it was put behind a wall of logic, a calculating mind that saw repetition as inefficiency, that saw habit as a lack of ingenuity, and thought of the daily routine as a wire that needed to be snipped. The ones around her so far were...static at best. Her sharp green eyes flitted from form to form, mouth still quirked, not really listening to the talks about...foxes and fire. Jackson. The broken robot, gutted and rewired by the fumbling hands of a spirit. Mary. A faded painting, covered in soot from the smoke the painter used to hide the strokes. Kanoa. A cracked camera that never took the picture you wanted. Cory. The ken doll with knives for hands. Raven. A doll with a cracked face. Hard to tell if the smile is nice or malicious. Maxwell. A radio that played nothing but the odd crackle. Then there was herself. The computer that was overheating, the computer with too many inputs and not enough output. A tired machine that wanted desperately to upgrade itself every second, and kept losing bits of itself in the process. Was she any better? Probably not. Hard to tell lately. How much of her emotions were hers and how much was infection by outside sources? She'd think herself to death one of these days. Mental overload. Loneliness? Possibly. Empathy to the point where she was unable to tell if what she was feeling was real or just something left behind by a pissy preteen that touched the same doorknob. Suicidal cause she touched an angst ridden sweater...homocidal cause the bus driver had a bad marriage. Lonely cause the boy leaned against her locker too long. Lustful cause the cheerleader who sat in her seat forgot her underwear in the locker room. The worst part was how it all...lingered. August began to wish she had brought her DS. She fiddled with her cellphone again.

"Thanks again for staying late dear. I know that you think all this is a bunch of hooey-" "I don't-" "Daniel Atticus Herne you may have worked overtime but that doesn't give you an excuse to lie to me." "Sorry aunt Debbie." The old woman put her hands on the boy's cheeks and looked at him, her glare turning to a wide smile in a flash. "You're a good boy Danny, though you shouldn't lie even if it is to spare my feelings. It will only hurt more in the end." Daniel looked down at the woman half his size. Despite it being 11:00 p.m. in the dead of winter she seemed comfortable in her jean shorts and sun blouse, the only thing remotely close to proper attire being a grey cardigan covered in cat hair. The younger sister of his now past mother it seemed a bit strange to see her so bright eyed and cheerful when tomorrow was... Danny shook the looming clouds away. "You're right aunt Debbie. I'll try harder next time." "That's all I ask." she said softly as she pulled him into a hug with a strength in-proportionate to her leaving Danny to flounder for a moment. Letting go after what was an uncomfortably long time (Danny suspected she was trying use him as a shield against the wind) she finally let go of him only to poke him in the chest. "And stop worrying about me! You have got to stop acting like you’re already dead! Live your life! go out; be with friends! Enrich your aura! Be happy! She said while unlocking the door directly next to the store saying as she entered, "Be safe driving home dear, and make sure your father is too. You know how he is this time of the year..." "Goodnight aunt Debbie." Daniel said tersely as he clambered into his red and white pick up. He didn't like being short with her but she had a tendency to ramble on and if the strange girl he had met earlier that day was any indication, he'd need as much rest as he could get tomorrow. waiting for the sound of her locking the door before turning on the engine. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AJBEVgnND6k Yeah. Drive safe. Who knows what might happen around here. Thought Daniel as he drove his lumbering beast of a truck over the winding hills of downtown Oakenheim. Passing by rustic store fronts, Daniel followed the string of incandescent lights looking towards the horizon where he could make out the silhouette of the old lighthouse that was only an empty shell of its supposed former glory. The thing was turned into a historical monument long before Daniel had moved here and was just another in a long string of attempts by the Oakenheim board of tourism to bring relevance to the sea-side town. According to his dad it was due to the fact that even though the town was practically as old as the country it often was forgotten in place of places like Roanoke and Salem. Still it was better than the tourist shops that would sell merchandise based around local legends of cryptids and ghosts. Most of the time the stores would bring people much weirder than anything the locals could boast about. It wasn't that Daniel didn't believe in the supernatural as he had tried to explain to his aunt. It was just that if there were such things as angels or demons, he didn't think that having a crystal underneath your pillow would bring some or stave off others. If there was one thing that Daniel believed in for sure, it was that man made his own miracles. "Suppose that'd make me a Diest." murmured as he pulled into his driveway only now realizing he had already gone the twelve miles to his house. Turning off the engine Daniel rested his chin on the steering wheel and looked at the place he called home for the past decade. An old farmhouse that had at some point been painted a pale turquoise over the years have worn down on the old two story leaving its coat bleached and chipped. Luckily his dad had recently fixed the shutters so they wouldn't squeak leaving it a little less like a locale from a slasher flick. Man, if I'm this out of it how bad is Dad? Getting out his truck Daniel quickly made his way onto the porch and into the (unlocked?) house. When he turned immediately to the right he saw in the den his dad asleep in his recliner in front of the T.V.- a half-empty bottle of beer still in his hand his head lulled back as he let out a deafening snore. Looking over at the television Daniel saw it was playing Plan 9 From Outer Space. Okay, thatbad. Prying the bottle from his hand Danny patted his father's bearded face. "Dad...Dad....Dad!" said at first gingerly raising it a decibel or so until his father awoke with a start. "HOO WHA- what? Oh hey there Danny I was wondering when you'd get home..." his father said as he was already starting to fall back asleep. Putting an arm over his shoulder Danny helped him up saying, "C'mon dad you need to get some sleep can't have the sheriff looking like he's fresh from the drunk tank." "I'll have you know I'm musch better than any of those dejhenerates...I'm a dejhenerate wish you for a son!" the older Herne replied his words progressively becoming more and more slurred. The younger one wrinkled his nose as the stench of alcohol spewed from his father's mouth. Guess he hasn't been sticking to beer only. Daniel thought as the two made their way up the stairs before stating, "Either way, if you're going to be pants-less you're going to have to be in your own bed." which caused the large man to let loose a larger laugh. Helping his dad into his bed Danny quickly went to the adjacent bathroom and retrieved some pain meds and when he returned he saw that his dad now wrapped up in a comforter was suddenly very quiet. "That movie was her favorite, you know." Daniel sat down at the foot of his bed and looked down at his father who somehow looked in his forties and four. "I remember when I was first chasing after your mother I asked her best friend Peggy Allen to tell me what she liked and she told me movies. And after what felt like months of begging and pleading she finally decided to go on a date with me to an old drive in theater two towns over, where we went to go see it. I remember- I remember afterwards I asked her what she thought of it and she said-'it was the worst movie I have seen and you, Gregory Herne are an idiot with no taste' And you know what she said after that?" A lump formed in Daniel's throat. "She said 'if you really sat through such an awful movie just for my sake then you are one dense man, Greg Herne." "And that if I really wanted to impress her I should try again." Greg Herne finished. For a time they sat there in silence, the only light coming from the dim table lamp that sat next to an alarm clock. Leaning over Daniel kissed his father on the forehead and softly said, "I miss her too, Dad." Turning off the bedside lamp Daniel gently closed the door behind him and went to his own room and layed in bed, looking up at the ceiling fan as it lazily spun about. Turning over Danny looked at the picture on his nightstand. In it was a young, clean-shaven man with a small child sitting on his lap, the child himself having a big toothy grin, his eyes hidden beneath a curtain of black bangs, while above the two a woman leaned over the man, her slender arms encircling the man to rest her hands on the boy's shoulders; her own face beaming with pride her brownish-red hair falling in gentle waves that framed her face. But perhaps what was her most striking feature were those eyes that twinkled, those eyes that had seemed to know no burden. Feeling the tears well up in his own, Daniel turn his back to the picture to see that the envelope he had received earlier that day sticking out of his backpack. To those that are aware of the unseen and unexplained, you are not alone. Strange things have been happening in this town, and while many refuse to accept this, or are unable to, we have the opportunity to do something about it. If you wish to know more, then please meet me in room 12C. I will understand if you ignore this message. At first Danny had thought it a prank or some strange marketing scheme for the plethora of tourist traps that were in town, but still his gut told him to check it out. When he swung by the room he saw some douche-nozzle screaming at a group of misanthropes leaving him to nope the fuck out of there before he got caught up in the drama. Still, his aunt's words pervaded his thoughts. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was just going through the motions of life. Reaching for his phone he went through his contact list. In his brief glance of the class room he had seen Kanoa's signature class uniform was among the people. She might have been a bit of a space case but she was on the up-and-up, and that favor he had done her a few months back hadn't been too bad. If she was part of the group they probably weren't too bad. Or at least knowingly try and scam him. Finally finding her number he simply texted her, "Your offer still stand?" ************************************************* Go on. They're all there you won't be the first one. And that weird snobby guy isn't there. If you don't fit in with the other pariahs its's no big deal, things will go back to how things are. Just put yourself out there. For aunt Debra. Danny let out a sigh. It's not like he could back out now. He slammed his hands on the steering wheel. "Damn it," he breathed, "Damn it, damn it damn it!" Collecting himself he flipped down the vanity mirror and gave himself the once over. A collared shirt with a simple gray, button up sweater over it, a pair of dark khaki pants and a navy blue duffle coat, while his hands were covered by thin, wool gloves that stopped at the second knuckles. It will have to do Grabbing his canvas backpack from the passenger seat Danny adjusted the handle of the khukri that he brought so it wouldn't be poking him in the face as he slung it over his shoulder. While it hadn't been directly stated it seemed that for whatever reason they were going out to the woods and would be out for a long time. so he decided to bring a tool that was able to chop through an adult pig in a single swing? "Because if we need wood or to cut through brush. I got other things like a thermos and lighter and a first aid kit... And trail mix!" He argued. With himself. "Well shit, if I'm going to go crazy I might as well do it with a live studio audience." Good, good. Get all the stupid out of your system nice and early. Lurching out of his old rust bucket, Danny quickly locked the door and strode across the street to them. Giving Kanoa a nod Danny took note of those who filled the child's play area with a note of dread. August Battaglia: Danny's dad must have pulled her in for messing with telephone lines at least half a dozen times. John Maxwell: Daniel could remember as clear as crystal when the entire school was buzzing when he tried to off himself. Corey Warner?: As far as Danny knew, Corey was a jock through and through. Though according to mutual friends he wasn't on the soccer team anymore. Must have messed him up worse than he had heard The others he hadn't recognized and as far as he was concerned the ones he knew the name of weren't even aware of his existence. As for the other three? Danny had to make a physical effort to not to pull out his khukri then and there. It wasn't that they were doing anything wrong. In fact, these three were the archetypes of who Danny had assumed would attend this little shin-dig. But something in his gut told him that they were bad news. It was only then that he had realized that he had been standing at the edge of the park with his hand halfway to his bag. Trying to pass off the fact that his first instinct was to purge half the group he turned his raised hand into a small wave and casually said, "Howdy folks. I'm Daniel Herne. I uh, sort of missed the meeting yesterday. I was told we were going to go for a hike in the woods or something?" Live life she says. Go make friends she says. I swear if I end up dead by the end of the day I'm going to kill Aunt Debbie.

The dying light of day bled through the blinds, little motes of dust dancing in the stilted beams that strobed down the room. Orion grimaced as on lance of light lined up with his closed eye, penetrating the serenity of his ebon dream. Orion blinked. He took in a deep breath. His chest felt tight. Sitting up he blinked in the haze. He must have fallen asleep. He had been looking for...something. Right? Orion pushed up his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. His head hurt, the blood felt sluggish in the veins around his skull. He was in the library. He had been looking for a book. That made the most sense. That was what people came to the library for. Well, that and to make out between periods. He was alone so making out would be a little more difficult to manage. A book seemed more likely. But what book? Why couldn't he remember that. Orion got up from one of the green, hard plastic chair near the windows. His back ached. How long had he been sleeping in the chair? He looked around the common area between the shelves. Empty tables. Silence. What time was it? Was the school closed? Did the angry, little, librarian troll miss him sleeping? Orion scratched his head, long fingers working into the frizzy mass of hair. He hoped the doors would open from the inside. He looked around at the beige bookshelves. He should probably get what he came for in any case. Be a waste of whatever trouble it would be to get out of here if he didn't. Walking along the shelves he idly scanned the book spines, hoping to job his memory. Fiction. No. He wasn't looking for Steven King or Stephenie Meyer...why the hell did the school alphabetize authors by their first name? Somewhere around here he knew some of the stoners hid their pot. Behind the shelf filled with the inexplicable number of Hardy Boys copies? Orion paused. Something was under his foot. It felt flat and warm under the sole of his shoe...like lights embedded in the floor of the gym pool. But he could feel it pulse. Like a heartbeat. Orion looked down at his feet. He slid one large shoe back and looked at what was underneath it. There was a symbol in the carpet. No. That wasn't quite right. There was a hole in the carpet. A symbol shaped hole. The carpet around it was blackened and burned. The hole was perfectly cut in the symbol it made. The symbol of...of...Orion began to sweat. Had the room always been this cold. The hole went straight through the floor. There should be a classroom under this spot, right? Then why did the hole go so much deeper than that. There was nothing in the hole. Orion could tell that. It was so dark in the hole, blindingly dark, but he could tell that. There was nothing at all. Orion bent down onto his hands and knees over the hole. The symbol shaped hole in the floor. His breath came in shuttering gasps. His pupils tightened. Something worse than fear coiled around his heart. No. There was something in the hole. He could hear a sound coming out of it. He put his ear against the hole to listen. He heard it. It was so quiet it was deafening. Orion reeled. His hands shot up, clutching at his ears. His teeth clenched. His eyes closed. His head split. He felt something wet and warm running through his fingers and down his cheeks. Sweat poured off of him. It was so cold. A copy of A Brief History of Time on the shelf next to him burst into flame. Orion tried to stand, his legs slide out from under him and he collapsed hard against the shelf. The floor was quaking with stillness. Orion tried to crawl away, half supported by the bookshelf. The cheap paint on it boiled away, the metal beneath bubbled and burned. Orion's hands were slick with blood. More dripped from his ears. The temperature in the library plunged. The books burned. Orion fell forward on his stomach, the unmoving carpet shredding the skin on his cheek, stomach, and hands. He stretched out his arms to grab the edge of the shelf and pull himself further, freezing, molten metal dribbled down his grasping fingers mixing with his blood. Orion tried to scream, gagging on his own breath. He opened his eyes. The darkness from the burning books had engulfed the room. He could make out every detail in the perfect darkness. There was something in that perfect darkness from the hole. The symbol shaped hole. The hole in the world. there was something in the hole. It was Orion. Orion stopped struggling. His body frenzied with inaction. His calmed into fever. He hadn't been looking for a book. He knew what the symbol the hole made was. It was the symbol for- ***** Orion looked around the empty playground. No one was here. He was late. A consequence of his perennial procrastination. He dropped his backpack into the little rubber chips. Orion sniffed at the cold evening air. This kind of sucked. He sat on the end of the slide, elbow on knee, chin in palm. Maybe it was better. He had hoped the invitation would give him some clue to his 'condition'. What he had heard was a cavalcade of supernatural nonsense that meant almost nothing to him. Everyone had some disparate condition. Some supernal connection. Most of them had some nifty superpowers out of the deal. None of it called to Orion's circumstances. Near death experiences, lose, witchcraft. Terrible. Terrific. But Orion could feel at his core, the same core that he could feel being gnawed away from the inside, that none of it was like him. Maybe it was just the prerogative of his youth but not one of them knew just what he was going through. So he hadn't said anything. He listened. He wondered. He faded to the background as they had filed out of the club room. Maybe he should have spoken up. Opened up. Coulda shoulda woulda. But the more they spoke the worse he could feel the throbbing in that space between his head and heart. He could feel the yawning abyss gap wider with their words. Maybe he should have just abandoned it entirely. Maybe he ought not to have come at all. Maybe he subconsciously knew that and showed up late with a purpose. Maybe he could just let it go, returned to his normal, mundane life. The symbols would stop, the light would cease. The cool, comforting banality of existence could cover his raw and ragged spirit and all of this would have just been a matter of fancy. Orion stood up and sighed. He looked off towards the treeline. Shoulda. Coulda. Woulda. ***** "Welcome to the club, Danny boy," words like melted chocolate lapped at the shoreline of Daniel's introduction. Orion slide around to the side of Herne, slipping one long arm over the sheriff kid's shoulders, the other sliding his pack strap higher on his shoulder. He turned a languid eye and a soft smile towards the rest of the group. "So what terrible decisions did ya'll make without me?"

Kanoa raised a brow at the response she got to her question. "The same reason there are people other than Native Americans in this country, Jackson. Not all spirits are confined to a certain location. They can travel as they please, and much more quickly than we can in most cases..." Kanoa remained quiet as Mary and Cory spoke. She couldn't help but laugh, Mary's snarky attitude was starting to get to her. "I think it'd be best if you all forget most of what you've seen in T.V shows, I don't want you getting the wrong ideas." She said, walking over to a tree. She leaned down to take a look at the tree's roots, there were bite marks on them. She took out her notebook and jotted the find down. As she scribbled, August spoke on her behalf.

"I have usual methods?" She mused to herself in an amused tone. She wondered if August believed herself to be that good at understanding how people worked, they hadn't exactly been close up until yesterday, after all. Standing back up, Kanoa cupped her chin and looked deeper into the forest. "Before Raven arrived, I saw a fox by the forest's edge, it tried to hypnotize me into following it. That must have been how it led the boy away with it, and the leaves... Some spirits require a broad leaf in order to transform. This spirit must have dropped a stock of them that it had with it..." Kanoa grumbled, as she wasn't positive about the last statement. As she thought things over, Daniel showed up.

He hadn't shown up to the club room the other day for some reason, so she surprised when he sent her a text asking if her offer still stood. She had no reason to refuse him, it wasn't as if the club was on a timed exclusive or anything. "It's more of a hunting expedition, really." She said, closing her notebook and putting it away. As if they had come in on the same horse, Orion arrived right behind Daniel. Kanoa scoffed.

"I don't make bad decisions, thank you very much. Try not to be late again, we're hunting a possibly hostile, possibly demonic fox spirit, alright?" Kanoa turned around and motioned for the others to follow her. "The fox's home is likely deep in the forest, I'll know it when I see it."

After about ten minutes of walking Kanoa spotted something among the trees. It appeared to be a structure of some kind, she tried to identify it but it was made out of the same material as the forest and blended in. Upon getting closer she was able to see what it was, it was a cabin home. "Huh..." Kanoa walked up to the side of the cabin, the walls appeared to be covered in the bark of Oak trees. She ran a hand over the surface, and knocked on the wood. It was legitimate, and completely impossible. It was almost as if an extremely thick and oddly shaped tree had been grown here, and was then carved into the shape of a cabin. Moss and branches could be seen along the cabin, further driving along it's strange appearance. There were no windows, only a door at the front of the cabin, The door looked as if it had been carved out of redwood, and the handle was smooth round amethyst. Kanoa took a few steps back and looked up, it was a two story cabin as well.

"Welp, might as well see if anyone's home." Kanoa said, walking up to the door and turning the knob. The door opened easily enough, and she walked inside. It wasn't dark as she had expected, as there were a few light sources. At the bottom edge of the walls glowing orange mushrooms gave off dim light, and above her head she saw a chandelier hanging from the ceiling by a vine. Verdant vines curled in different directions, and at the tip of each a mystical orange flame burned. She could see an entrance way into another room, but from what she could gather she was currently in the 'living room' There was a couch made of wood, though it was covered with an assortment of pillows that she had to assume were stolen from Oakenheim. There was an assortment of instruments on a redwood table in the corner. A Guitar, a flute, drums, a violin, all likely stolen as well.

"Nice place, I wonder what the rent would be here."

“That's fair enough I suppose,” Maxwell responded without much enthusiasm. For a moment he was sure that he had caught a trace of something in Kanoa's expression when she looked at him but he made little of it. He was bad at that kind of thing to begin with so he had probably imagined it. But her comment about the gardening club. Was that a joke? Probably. But if not it might be something worth investigating in his own time. “Right,” he responded simply, following after her as she led them into the forest. For some reason he felt a little ill at ease but he had no idea why. His revere was broken when Kanoa asked a surprisingly curious question.

“Kitsune?” Maxwell said aloud, as if he had never heard of such a thing. In fact the truth was the opposite. He had simply been surprised to hear the word, out here in a forest in the heart of backwater Maine. In truth he actually knew a little about them, the mythology and the origin of the name. His father was a supernatural buff and fiction author to boot after all. He also collected crap like that. Maxwell for his part had never really been interested in that kind of stuff. Not until recently anyway.

“Really, that's what comes to mind?” Maxwell had no words to describe just how creepy Mary had sounded. He sighed and shook his head. He had to agree with Augusts take on the whole situation. They were all on the wrong side on the weirdness scale for anyone to be throwing around comments like that. Despite himself he actually smiled and laughed to himself. “And what, you really think that if anyone was going to be doing the killing of nubile young teens it would be Kanoa? I can think of much better better candidates,” he said with some levity looking directly at Mary.

It then that Kanoa tried to explain the logic behind the reasoning that she was basing her conclusions upon. Maxwell was suddenly a lot less at ease with the whole situation. He had assumed that she was working with something a little more...ironclad than pure speculation. “Tried to hypnotise you, huh?” he said with no apparent emotion. He really should have just walked away right at that moment and forgotten all of this madness. “So why couldn't it?” he said more to himself than to Kanoa.



When they arrived at their apparent destination Maxwell found himself not sure what to say exactly. What exactly had he been expecting? Maxwell had to admit that if nothing else the building really fit the bill. Located deep in the forest. Hard to see among the trees. Or was it a tree that looked like a house. It wasn't like he had been expecting something normal like a wood cabin or a tent but still this was something else. He sighed at Kanoa's apparent lack of a sense of danger, yet found himself following immediately after her into the house. House tree? Tree house?

It was dim inside, lit by a glowing fire off to one side of the room, instruments of varying varieties scattered about a table. Clearly someone lived here. The fire suggested that until recently someone had even been here. Or still was here. Yet for some reason he was not as scared as he knew he ought to be. He walked over to the instruments and picked up what he believed to be a violin. He made no attempt to play it and instead turned it over curiously in his hands. Seemed pretty unremarkable. He turned his eyes toward the door way into the next room. “So what do we do now?” he asked seriously.

Jackson shrugged at Kanoa's response, as that really didn't explain anything. He got that it moved, by why to Maine of all places. Seems like ab awful long way to go, even if they did use some sort of spiritual transportation. He spared a glance at Orion and some new guy as they came over.

'You should take that knife and-' Aphosis began his usual schtick with torture and death and mutilation, to which Jackson tuned out with a steady train of 'Shut up' thoughts. This kind of thing would terrifying, if he wasn't dealing with it on a near constant basis. He was pretty sure he could watch a grisky chainsaw massacre happen ih front of his eyes, and only be slighty perturbed by it, that was how desensitized to violence he'd become.

"Nothing much Orion, just discussed the likelyhood of Kanoa leading us to our doom, then eating our, how did you put it Mary, 'nubile teen bodies' or something like that. Can someone tell me the hell that even means, nubile that is." Jackson response was a little harsh in tone, but his lack of sleep, his irritation at having to get up so early(he wasn't a morning person), and dealing with the psycho spirit in his head made him rather grouchy.

(Time skip to Cabin)

"You know, Mary's theroy is a lot less crazy sounding now that we're actually here." Jackson couldn't help but comment as they approached the cabin, his eyes roaming over the building unimpressedly. He didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't this. "I say-" He began, only to cut himself off as Aphosis spoke up in his head again.

'What a nice location for such a thing, I say you start eating the one who just arrived, his confusion and fear will mix quite well together, then-'

"Oh my fucking god, will you just shut up already!" Jackson exclaimed in annoyance as he began to pace around. "Every second, of every minute, of every day you've been talking non-stop about how to kill people violently, how to torture people brutally, and tell me over and over to kil everyone I meet. At first, this was terrifying,But only now am cI realizing just how fucking annoying you are. Can you please shut and give me just 5 minutes of uninterrupted mental silence." When he heard no response,he gave a sigh of relief. . . which he quickly swallowed when he remembered he was in front of other people.

"Oh, uh, non of thatnwas directed at you guys it was just, you know." Jackson tapped his head, but his flocked ti Daniel, the new one here that hadn't been at the classroom, thus missing his demonstration. 'Oh well, I'll explain it to him later if I have to.'

"Soooooooo, we going down the fox-hole or what?" Jackson chose to sit down, acting like his momentary lapse in sanity never happened.

"I have usual methods?"

About eight examples popped into August's head, but she suppressed the urge to explain herself. No point. Kanoa had already changed subject, talking about foxes and hypnotism. The red head began to wonder quite heavily if she had accidentally joined a group of asylum escapees trying to pass as high school students. Hypnotism. August stroked her chin a moment at the concept, giving a quirk of her lips as Maxwell voiced the word in a tone that suggested he was on the same page as the red head. Disbelief. Hypnotism supposedly only worked if the subject was willing to believe it was possible. The idea that it would work without the subject knowing was more subtle mental suggestion, conditioning done on a subconscious level so the subject reacts instinctively, not cognitively. Course, this didn't apply to spirits she supposed. The idea that Kanoa knew the spirit was trying to do so, moments before Raven had arrived, presented several problems. How would she know what had been happening? Was Kanoa naturally resilient to this stuff due to her connection with the spirit world? Why wasn't this brought up sooner? If the spirit could hypnotize, the entire theory that they could take precautions against the shape shifter was flawed. Why bother shifting in the first place? Were they all as resistant the effects? A scary thought popped into her head as she realized that her ability probably would make her more susceptible to mental manipulation. Her empathy and ability to connect to anything or anyone would probably make her a prime target in fact. That was going to be problematic.

August snapped back to reality as she recognized the boy arriving on the scene. Sheriff's son. They had never spoken, mostly cause the few times August had seen him she was either in the back of his dad's police car or being escorted out of the police department by her brother. Still, she smiled and waved, keeping the wave going as Orion showed up and slung an arm around the boy. Maxwell mentioned Mary doing the killing of their little group. August's eyes flicked instead to Jackson.
----------------
August was now positive that Kanoa was withholding information from the rest of them. The red head had wandered this forest multiple times, knowing most of it pretty well. She could easily keep her orientation in it. And in a short ten minute span, Kanoa had somehow found a cabin August had never seen before, and this is definitely one she would have noticed. Either Kanoa was incredibly lucky for having chosen the exact direction to head in the entire forest, or she knew where it was, or at least a general idea of where it was. The redhead hesitated as the group filtered in. First Kanoa, then Maxwell, then-

"Oh my fucking god, will you just shut up already!"

August stared as Jackson blew up on his inner voices. He ranted for a bit, then attempted to play it off like a sneeze. Coming with these people was a mistake...August began to feel a bit of panic creep up on her. And the cabin wasn't any better. Who knew what emotions lay in the building? What could a kidnapping spirit house bring? Would August even be able to comprehend them? And it's victims? Even hypnotized, there had to be emotions of fear, panic. Desperation, loneliness. The idea of walking into such a maelstrom didn't appeal to her. Sprinting away into the forest would probably be wiser. Her eyes flitted to Daniel. Suppose having the sheriff's son here would be a useful alibi if she had to explain why she killed everyone in self defense. August took a breath and entered the cabin. She tightened up instinctively as she felt the creep of foreign emotions...brush her? Her eyes opened. Comfort. That's...all she felt? Really? Nothing else, no other emotion from a shape shifting, kid hypnotizing demon spirit's hidden torture hole past a feeling of comfort and calm?

This was just...eh. Not even worth bringing up really.

"Well that's almost disappointing."

August muttered as she began to examine the room itself, making careful mental notes to stay on the opposite side of the room as Jackson. The boy's knives were way too close to his hands at all times for her to feel remotely safe around such an unstable creature. At least the cabin's pathetic residual emotions were helping her calm down. Kinda.

Mary heaved a broken sigh.

Errant security guards had warranted the execution by toilet water of joint-02. They were like smoke hounds, and Mary had been in enough trouble to know that weekends were no exception for 30+ year old men who liked exerting as much power as the could over young people absolutely helpless to defend themselves in a legal battle. So immediately after leaving Kanoa's kreepy n' kool kidz kroo, Mary had made her way to the nearest girl's room to dispose of the evidence. Jackson, while eager to pollute his lungs, wasn't looking to make roaches, and so he passed it back to her. It did serve as something of an excuse, though. She could just hide out here, calm down after that meeting, collect her thoughts, decompress a little.

She'd need to walk home, she always did. May as well get that trek underway after everyone else was long cleared out of the school. She could avoid any unnecessary... stares.



It still baffled her how easy it had been to open up about the... void... finally! To people who were complete strangers, no less!

No, those people were even worse than strangers. They were high school classmates-- there was the possibility of gossip, and potential judgements, and there was always the possibility of a snitch calling child services on her mother-- Yet Mary hadn't felt the stress associated with the taboo act of completely exposing oneself to a group of teens hungry for a game of telephone school wide.

It was entirely possible that she didn't enough about what anyone in there thought. Apathy did paint over each action she took. Mary leaned against a sink in the women's room, lazily regarding her reflection in the heavily tagged mirror.

She was shaking.

So it was more than a lack of concern... she was feeling an adrenaline inducing relief. Her mind turned to why she had felt so compelled in that moment to speak, and what it meant for the intense spiritual depression.



Brown eyes bounced off of each other into infinity as Mary tilted her head in the mirror. Her reflection looked sad, or perhaps, reserved? She couldn't quite say, it was obscured by lipstick hearts and expletives and the return of the other smoke. The world slowly began to darken again. A slightly silver filter to experience consciousness through. Honestly, she hadn't noticed it had even gone.

Her eyes widened.

Being close to other people who could perceive... whatever... had weakened it. The darkness felt weaker when she was with those losers... when Kanoa touched her... when she explained mary jane alternatives to Jackson. So it couldn't have just been contact with other people, it was those with the ability. That didn't make any...

Mary yawned. The restroom window exposed a lavender sky. Apparently her vision wasn't the only thing getting darker. She moved over to the door, it was probably safe to head home.



Mary poked her head out of the door, making sure her coast was clear. She couldn't stop thinking about the implications of her joining this club.

So people, like her but not her, weakened whatever it was eating away at her, simply through proximity? Why?

More importantly, it made her question the nature of that void that felt like controlled... everything. It hadn't wanted her to go to the meeting. Mary knew that from the note, the poorly doctored note, that it apparently hadn't even had the power to completely destroy.

Stepping out into the hallway, Mary felt a resolve building. She really needed to see this through, if it hurt that darkness inside of her, that inched her closer to death, even if only slightly. It was the closest thing to agency she'd ever possessed in her whole life.

That was kind of a drag though, 8 AM was really early to get up on a Saturday...









"Ad anima colat!"

"Cura animam, Janicot?"

"Nolite mirari apparere, Diana. Ego sum fortior nobis."

"Tu es? Non video tamen positus cornua..."



"Quin etiam singula; Tantum duo crura,"

"..."

"A femina! Quam fortis est semen tuum! Ahahahaha!!"

"SILENCIO!"







Mary couldn't hide the look of wonder that spread across her face as she watched the weak halo of purple smoke slowly drift into the deep blue sky. The calm summer afternoon was windless, comfortably warm, quiet, and completely atmospherically still. It was ideal weather for the smoke rings that would go about polluting a bodily temple. Ideal weather for smoke rings that would contribute to the death of Mother Nature's pristine forest air and plant life. Ideal weather for smoke rings that would go about disturbing the spirits that resided in the Oakenheim cemetery. Ideal weather for the clearing of existential smoke imposed onto Mary's being. Ideal weather for lavender smoke rings and everything that followed with lavender smoke rings...



She didn't care about all that, though. She just enjoyed the feeling of freedom being here gave her, even if it was only a small respite from the darkness. The warmth that spread with each puff made the isolation worth it-- not that isolation was ever a bad thing. But she could feel that whatever spiritual vibrations of...

The 15 year old sat up, and turned to read the gravestone;





Mary sat cris-cross in the grass, illuminated by a slowly descending sun, taking in all that she would probably ever learn of Mr. Frank Newton in a single stone slab. She pursed her lips in thought, blunt in hand, as she considered his public legacy. Whatever spirit the man left behind was apparently malicious, as the lavender smoke was driving him away.

There were so many inconsistencies. He was a father, but not a husband? A brother, but not a son? A hero, apparently, but also Gone and Forgotten? That bit didn't even make any sense. If he was Gone and Forgotten-- HOW did he even have a gravestone?

With a harrumph, Mary turned in the grass and leaned her back against the cool stone. Taking a puff of the herbal remedy, the young girl considered alternatives. Perhaps 'Gone and Forgotten' was just a typo? But that seemed... too easy. Like, who would bury their loved one with an inscription like that unless they really meant it.

He died the same year she was born, which was interesting. And he was... some kind of donor? Mary took another puff of the purple haze as a sharp pain shot through her head. The thing really didn't want her thinking about this. For whatever reason. She shrugged; it was just dead end speculation either way, no point in wasting time thinking about it when she could listen to some Sufjan Stevens and look at the blossoming gardenias.

Mary heaved a broken sigh.







Mary heaved a broken sigh and crossed her arms in an unseen pout.

Great. Orion seemed alright, if not a little too eager at times, but Daniel was here? Uggghhhhh...

She was here, in the middle of the woods with a group of people she was willing to at least try to get to know, both to resolve her own isolation issues and to possibly help in figuring out the darkness that resided inside her and then this fucking narc has to show up? She doubted he knew who she was-- but if the pictures the sheriff had to go by were any indication, he was basically babby cop 2.0.

Mary wasn't entirely anti-police. But that was only because she recognized that the American Law Enforcement Swine did possess a distinguished palate-- she, like the pigs, found herself impartial to the optimistic pleasure of coffee and doughnuts.



Mary took a sip of her now lukewarm coffee. She was mostly finished with the cup.

Fuck...

Not only could she not smoke because the sheriff's stupid narc pig son was here! But she might have to just awkwardly carry this stupid cup around with her for the rest of this outing! It wasn't like she could pollute! The Otaku Kitsune might get mad!

Right. She needed to focus, on the others, and the matter at hand. The alleviation of that feeling of lack that being near the others provided her with was beginning to get to her, she needed to remember that someone's life might be on the line with this. Her attention turned back to reality.

“Really, that's what comes to mind?” Was Maxwell's response to her commentary about the possibility of Kanoa bullshitting about all of this to murder some kids in the woods, “And what, you really think that if anyone was going to be doing the killing of nubile young teens it would be Kanoa? I can think of much better better candidates,”

"Nah man, I'm too obvious." She noted August's gaze as it went to Jackson, she continued, "I'm the character everybody suspects because of how murderess-like I seem, but I'm too soft deep down to actually do it. No..." Mary chugged the rest of her cup, "It couldn't be me, you or Raven..." She paused at Raven's name, "Well, maybe..." She shrugged, "Everyone else here... maaaaybe... but Kanoa is the one that organized this, after all, under the pretense that a magical fox is pretending to be people..."







Mary could hardly move.

A few moments ago, she had been walking through the dark woods, the same dark woods she had been walking in her dreams for years now, her only companion was an intense, powerful wind. As hot as the raspy breath of man and localized only to swirl around her figure. That wasn't painful-- but then, amidst trees as sleek as smoke and a sky as dark as molasses there stood a familiar man. This man stood gaunt, he seemed a mile away, yet he came closer without moving with each blink. He was hairy, messy unorganized hairy-- although he had a neatly styled, eerily perfect crew cut. He was dressed in a suit that, at one point in time, may have been fine, but now, appeared as though it may fall into loose thread if he flexed the wrong muscle.

Perhaps that was the point.

What was most notable about the man, as always, were his dark, hollow eyes, the impossibly wide smile that grew as he approached, and the horns that grew from atop his head. They were like a deer's, and they almost seemed to stretch like a second pair of hands towards her as the man approached. His visage was entirely still as it effortlessly moved through the trees, despite the tumultuous wind that surrounded Mary. The edges of her vision became as dark as the coal trees of this corrupted Oakenheim wood, with each blink the man became closer. She could feel her lavender smoke in the wind.

Mary could hardly move.

Hardly.

She began to walk towards the horned man, even though terror began to fill her heart. Running never seemed to work here.



He said, "Quoniam fumus annulos bellum," and ran off into the woods like a broken, gray pencil tip rolling across a piece of black paper.

Mary heaved a broken sigh in relief--

Mary turned, the cracking of sticks signaled someone's approach.

--too soon, apparently.

Two voices filled the swirling, smokey air around Mary, each singing a different tune, in different painful pitches about how much of an impure whore she was. She tried yelling out, but couldn't even force a whisper from her throat. She could dry cough silently, though! She fell to her knees in the purple swirl, pressing her hands to her ears in a futile attempt to rid herself of their disparate screams.

Then she could see them. Both of them. The horned man and the pregnant woman. His horns curved and lifted up in the air very, very high, like, taller than the trees high, like higher than she'd need to get to forget this dream, high. He wasn't growing bigger with them, but he hand perfect control of where they went. His hands went up, like some conductor, and Mary felt the wind around her stop as everything went silent. The smoke didn't go-- but that made sense, the lavender vapor was coming from inside her own body-- her own lungs. Vision grew darker still as she stood. Mary focused her attention on the heavily pregnant woman in the dim light in the already melancholia shaded grove. She gave a similar raise of her hands, and the trees seemed to almost move away, revealing a sky darkened entirely by horns.
They maintained that pose, paying no mind to Mary. Were they letting her go?



No.

Mary's eyes shot downward, where this heat made itself known between her legs, it wasn't pleasurable, but hot, like the fire you'd place an iron in. Mary tried screaming out in pain, but all that came was smoke, and through the haze she realized what was happening. The fire spread from her loins to other regions of her body-- contrasted by an impossible freezing sensation where her heart should have been. She was burning from the inside out. The pair walked closer to Mary, the woman began singing and the man manipulated his horns to close in on her, so that she couldn't run even if she could summon the will. They were swirling around her and growing like the wind had.

And then the woman looked at her and smiled this awful, cheshire smile, and in her Mom's voice she sang, "Even in my best condition, counting all the superstition, I am hiding all alone, I am running all alone..."

She tried to yell out again, but couldn't. Mary fell back to the ground as the pain shot through her, she tried moving and that proved futile as well. The man looked down at the weakly squirming girl and he said, "Mary, you are impure! Mary, you are home..."

And then she woke up.







'Hêlêl,'

'Nmitôgwesna spempik aiian,
sôgmowal negwadji eliwisian,
K'tabaldamwôgan paiômwiji,
kolaldamwôgan likitôgwadji tali kik taôlawi,
tali spemkik.'



'Wôkwses,'

'Mômilina nikwôbi pamkisgak nedattaskiskwai abônmena,
ta anhaldamawina n'palalokawôgannawal taôlawi,
niuna ali anhaldamawôak,
ta akwi losalina wnemihodwôganek,
wiji kadniwadaki tôni majigek.
Nialach.'



'Wôkwses Wôkwses,
Hêlêl Wôkwses,'

'Alnôbak ta Wôbanakiak aiian,
Wôkwses wiji ali Miguen n'palal,
Nsôzek tali kik Sanôba aiian,
Nsôzek nikwôbi Pehanem mawôak,
Adah adamah.'

'Wôkwses Wôkwses,
Wôkwses Hêlêl,'







After Jackson's outburst, Mary waited a bit before she sought admission into the natural cabiny outcrop. Both out of personal fear, the constant idea in her mind that Kanoa had no idea what she was doing, and that she was seeing something absolutely incredible. Her mouth hung agape at the sight of botanical perfection. Others had decided to hang outside for a bit as well, although, based on their more serious expressions, they had other reasons besides the appreciation of magic and nature in conjunction.

"Well that's almost disappointing." August declared silently to no one in particular.

"What is?" Mary murmured in idle response to August's own idle statement. She caught something akin to resignation in August's voice-- but couldn't put aside the absolute wonder in her own.

THIS THING IS AMAZING!

She wandered into the cabin/tree hybrid with wide eyes, it appeared to be the direct result of that unseen supernatural stuff Kanoa had been talking about. Besides the graveyard, Mary had never interacted so directly with stuff like this-- while her experiences had left her open to it all, such things as shape-shifting Japanese faxes and magical house trees were still new to her eyes. She couldn't help but marvel at how perfectly everything was formed... The minute detail, the botanical correctness of the flowers in the room...

Mary couldn't help but let some of that internalized wonder escape onto her face. A wonder that tippled when she saw a table that seemed to grow out the ground. Running over like an excited child, she gently placed the cardboardesque empty Starbucks cup discreetly. Finally relieving her hands of the burden.



The instruments on the table were of secondary concern to her. The table itself was amazing! How had it come about! How did those burning emerald vine curtains work? They seemed to grow out of the Redwood itself, meaning this plant was actually chimeric! Mary wondered if there were other plantae mixed into the genes of this magnificent modeled tree chimera!

She noted her expression was rapidly becoming sanguine and toned her internal enthusiasm down a bit. Tasks were at hand! There was an innocent life here, not one being slowly eaten away at, but a boy who may have already been killed. She did need to retain some focus...

“So what do we do now?” Maxwell asked, trying to keep the group on task.

"I say we--"

OhmyGOOOOODDD! The vines aren't just burning, they're converting their own photosynthetic energy back into light!

Like a giddy student, Mary ran over to the orange, glowing ends of the vines that seemed to serve as nothing more than a groovy-esque thing that didn't conform to the normal standards of doors. Kneeling down to the point that her eyes were inches away from the mystic burning light, Mary let out an audible 'sqeee' in excitement.

Then she remembered that she wasn't alone here.

"Uh..." Mary stood and turned, attempting to wipe all the excitement and giddiness off her face before continuing her own sentence, "Sorry... I was saying that, like, we should search for clues or something. It looks like Mr. Fox keeps a lot of stolen shit here, if this is even his magical amazing tree play house at all... So I guess we should, like, look around to see if it is, and if it is, maybe he keeps the kid here... or like, somewhere nearby? I don't know..." Shrugging, she pointed to Jackson, "Someone should probably stand guard in case whoever owns this place... you know, comes back? I nominate freaking Knives Chow over here."

"And I accept your nomination, if not the nickname. Lets stick with Jackson for now, thank you." Jackson response was casual enough, but it had an underlying air of frustration. "Everyone has their weird hobbies, mine are outdoorsmanship and knives. I just collect them and like to carry them around to show off with them. It's not like I take them to school(lie) or have used them on anyone before(half-truth)."

Getting up, he walked around the cabin aimlessly, looking around the cabin a little closer than before. 'Okay, at second glance this place is pretty cool. I wonder if the kitsune would let them use this as their meeting place. If she isn't completely evil of course.' "Anyway, I'm fine with playing security guard though I doubt I'll be much good at stopping whatever made this."

'Come on Jacky-boy, you can murder anything if you put your mind to it.'

'That's a lie, I've put my mind to killing myself and you plenty of times, yet here we are.'

'Stop being negative.'

'Get out of my head and take a long walk off a short pier.'

'. . . . . That hurt, ya know.'

'Good.'

Taking his mind off of his own insanity for a second, Jackson sat down a little ways a way, took out another knife and just started juggling them, paying only a small amount of attention to them as he continued to talk to everyone else.

"So, anyone have any idea why a Kitsune would kidnap a kid? Also, what are we going to do if/when we find him, or if the Kitsune finds us?"

As he finished speaking, he drew another knife to add to the two in the air. He continued doing so for a while, losing himself slightly in the dancing of the blades. He was still paying attention to what was going on, but only just.

There wasn't much fanfare to Daniel's arrival and perhaps it was for the best. Daniel was used to being at arm's length with the rest of his peers, though even he had to admit that being rejected by the rejects stung a little. Oh well. The day was young and it looked like half these people were in their own little worlds, hell the group looked like it could be the cover of some band called Insolent Children, they already had a pint-sized goth.

"We're hunting a possibly hostile, possibly demonic fox spirit, alright?" Kanoa turned around and motioned for the others to follow her. "The fox's home is likely deep in the forest, I'll know it when I see it."

Oh alright. That's all. For the briefest moment Danny had thought that these people were just crazy. It was then he realized that they were- what were they called? Live action role-players. LARPers. Yeah that was it. To be honest Danny himself had always wanted to get into Dungeons and Dragons but in a town like this it was hard to find anyone who'd cop to playing it, even at the friendly neighborhood comic book store. Though he had to wonder, why would people like Corey and Orion be there? While he didn't know much about the former he shared a physics with the latter and while he was a nice enough fellow, it was painfully obvious how much he cared about how others thought of him. Showing up here would be social suicide if the masses found out. Whatever. That was his problem. Sure it was a bit odd, even for him but it was nice to see a group of people who wouldn't give a shit about running around the woods and just having fun unstead of wallowing in pointless drama. Soon the group followed their fearless leader Danny tried to stay near the back of the group, but between the other's shuffling pace and his long legs he quickly abandoned the thought, setting his pace to be right in the middle, behind a girl with a pseudo-pixie cut. Since he had arrived at the park he had tried to place her but it was only until now he had realized that he had seen her every time he went to the graveyard. He had never approached her but had always wondered what she was doing there.

No wonder I didn't recognize her! There's no purple haze around her! She probably thinks that I'm going to try and make a citizen's arrest on her what with pops being a cop. Probably for the best. Last thing we need is a fi- well what do we have here?

Arriving at what must be their destination Danny was not perplexed, not just by the cabin and its bark exterior but by the fact that the structure wasn't in a clearing of any kind. "How could this have gotten here without leave a path from construction? New or not there would certainly be evidence of-"

"Oh my fucking god, will you just shut up already!" Jackson exclaimed in annoyance as he began to pace around. "Every second, of every minute, of every day you've been talking non-stop about how to kill people violently, how to torture people brutally, and tell me over and over to kil everyone I meet. At first, this was terrifying,But only now am cI realizing just how fucking annoying you are. Can you please shut and give me just 5 minutes of uninterrupted mental silence."

Well then.

While Danny was ready to bark right back at him -knife or not- the boy's quick attempts at making amends took the wind out of his sails. Dang, this guy reminds me of when I first got the sight. If I had anyone around me they'd probably think I was.... wait a second could Kanoa have brought us together because of... Danny gave the other guy a dismissive wave and with it the thought that others knew his secret. "Well if it wasn't directed at us what's the harm?" he said, trying to keep his voice as chipper as possible. Okay. So this guy may be a tad bit crazy, but isn't everyone really? It's the ones that hide it well that you really have to look out for and Danny was sure that if push came to shove he could easily defend himself. But the schizo was hardly the most interesting thing that was going on here, By George this cabin was an architectural wonder! Or rather, anomaly. As the all shuffled into the cabin Danny drew his blade and -peeling away a piece of bark- made a small incision into the wall, causing some sort of sap to come out.

Well shiggidy diggidy. Things have definitely gotten interesting. Following the other inside the windowless building (never a good idea) Danny couldn't help but feel as if he had stepped into a fairy tale cataloged by the Brothers Grimm. Especially when he saw the 'chandelier.' Unable to discern how the flames were being fueled Danny took out his pocket flash light to examine the tip of the vine but there was no shimmer showing that there was propane or any other gas. Rubbing his chin Danny proceeded to bring his zippo up to it but it refused to light despite the apparent heat that emanated from the flame.

Okay, maybe we aren't going out here to whack each other with foam toys and speak with British accents but that would mean... Looking over at Kanoa he wondered. Did she know? It couldn't be that she knew he could...stack the deck. At most she probably thought he'd have an interest in the occult and wanted a discount at his aunt's store. It definitely made sense for the goth and that girl that hangs out in the graveyard- heck it even made sense for August if Danny did the mental gymnastics. But people like Corey and Orion? The former maybe would be desperate and look for 'alternative medicine' for his leg and while Orion definitely seemed like he'd go this far to fuck with someone, he was smart and knew that the losses outweighed the benefits of being around this crowd. Well shit. We actually are out here to hunt a demon.

"I don't understand. just about every living thing on the planet uses adenosine triphosphate for energy on a cellular level. For this thing that can supposedly take the shape of humans it would have to have more than the simple camouflage that octopi have or the crystals that Chameleons have. It would be some sort of mass of stem cells that got recycled."Thought Danny aloud. "The energy input for such a creature to stay alive let alone form an accurate replica would be quite astounding. It would have to eat things that themselves absorbed quite a bit of energy..." He added as his gaze turned to the curtain of glowing red vines. It could be that this creature was feeding off of those. It would make sense that it would provide a source of energy since it's redish-orange glow indicated that it focused its energy on absorbing shorter lightwaves and thus, higher energy. But if that were the case why would it even possess the ability to take on the traits of other beings?

"So, anyone have any idea why a Kitsune would kidnap a kid? Also, what are we going to do if/when we find him, or if the Kitsune finds us?"
asked, Jackson was it? A sense of dread filled Danny's stomach.

"Jackson, have you ever heard the term, 'a wolf in sheep's clothing?'" when something occurred to Danny. "Did anyone check upstairs to see if there's anyone else here?"