---

---

...Wow.

This got hectic faster than Jack expected. Everyone was, unsurprisingly, startled by him tearing open a portal from across realities. But he would've assumed dear old Drake had at least remembered that he was the one crazy enough to do something like that. He caught the note from Alizee as she stormed out, apparently someone recognized him. "Oh, Drake, you don't remember your old punching b-" Holy shit, Simone.

Drake got fucking blasted, sent into a wall just as quickly as he could flash a lightning halberd in Jack's face. This was an absolute mess already, Luca was nice enough to fill him in. "Kali, the one who was always skittish and solitary? An agent of the state? That is... Ironic." He never expected a guy like that to pick up anything so... Corporate and cold. He always seemed like the type of dude who would just run a bookstore or something.

"Clearly, some of you moved on more than I thought. It's me, Jack. The one who lost an arm to the Stygian Snake? The one who helped find the weapon we killed that monster with? I apologize for terrifying some of you, but I just happened to be an entire universe away, so I would be running even later, were I to simply walk in from elsewhere. Now- What is this about the FBI and our little town?" He asked, before turning his attention to everything as a whole. No one was too happy about Kali's sudden announcement of being a federal agent, which was understandable since most of them came from dubious backgrounds. Kali had his own points that were worth keeping in mind. The government of this country they were in could easily sweep in and put the whole town under lockdown from the shadows, and eventually they would be the ones under scrutiny, not Father Wolf, not the bikers that ran drugs, but the Adepts and Aberrants that could warp reality, make weapons out of lighting and freeze someone solid with a touch.

So, after hearing everyone out, Jack took a seat. And gave Kali a glare upon the gun's reveal.

Kill him, kick him our or let him stay.

"Everleigh is right. I remember the old days better than most, given the way I've experienced time lately. You were never this convicted on anything, Kali. You were always just... Skittish. You never had the nerve to do things that involved a badge. But replacing government oversight with yourself was the better decision, if you ask me. I can understand why you came instead of them. But surely you know that the FBI is worthless where the paranormal is concerned. We all put a demigod to sleep as children, why would we take them seriously? Moreover, how do we know you aren't the only agent involved? What response were you expecting from this group of people, if not distrust?" Jack, personally, did not feel threatened by Kali's badge, the gun, or his whole vibe right now. Not in any way, shape or form, but he was inclined to believe that trust was needed badly right now.

"Killing Kali will raise alarms, and sending him away will risk giving his... Handlers the impression that he has been compromised somehow. If everyone else is willing, then I vote we keep Kali here, on the condition that he continues to be honest about his intentions, and makes himself as harmless as possible to this group. The FBI is beneath me, so I have nothing to lose by being on their watchlists, but some people have very legitimate reasons for not wanting the government breathing down their necks. And very little stands in the way of us making their lives miserable if they threaten us, you included. So, if you want to stay, then earn it. And I hope you do, because the last thing I want to see is more of my old friends left to die."

---

Tacoma > St. Portwell Interchange

THIRTY THREE HOURS AGO

---

"You alright, kid?"

Clancy blinked, glancing over to one side. He'd taken the empty seat on the bus. Always the empty seat if he could. Walking was preferable to being hassled by strangers, sometimes - even if the bus ride in question was measured in hours rather than minutes.

In the seat across from him sat an older woman, probably pushing her mid-late sixties, with cropped platinum hair and an orange bodywarmer accompanying her choice of denim. By his standards of "old lady" she was decidedly modern.

"You looked a little ah-... 'off', was all, and it's a long road from upstate."

Clancy didn't have an answer. Was he visibly agitated? He didn't realised he'd been giving her a tell if he had.

"It's fine, you don't have to talk to me if you don't feel up to it... I just wanted to make sure you're alright."

"I am alright.

"He talks, then."

"I guess."

The old woman shuffled along her seat "Sorry, I just got a feeling you're a ways from home... used to be a social worker, so I know the look."

Sigh. Clancy shrugged; he'd been through this conversation before, each time rolling his eyes, shaking his head, telling them to go away, or just being silent. It made no difference usually. People either engaged with him or they didn't - sometimes it was a stranger, sometimes it was a cop, or some other figure trying to do the 'right thing'. They were well intentioned, but annoying at their worst, and none of them would really understand him.

"Look... I won't force anything you don't want," the woman said, tugging a creased slide from her purse, "But if you need anything, or just a place to talk? Here's my card, I kept the number after retirement." She leaned over, to plant the card in his twitching palm, and her fingertips momentarily brushed his palm.

"Do not-" Clancy hissed, jerking his hand back, "-touch me." He shot her a glare that could split ice.

"I'm sorry-... and I know, your business is yours, so-"

"Then mind your own." Clancy snapped back - and that seemed to get the point across, judging by her expression - as if she'd been slapped. "Okay, alright. Just... take it with you? And.. stay outta the cold." Maybe she misread, or was willing to take the chance of pushing him away. He found her irritating either way. but to keep her quiet he pocketed the card.

Another twenty minutes of disconcerted silence, and Clancy made a point of getting off a few stops earlier than he'd originally intended, just in case she dropped a call about a child-at-risk. He wasn't too worried about being flagged down, but being stopped and bothered was just another waste of his time, extra hassle he didn't need. He glanced down at the phone, a basic handset which probably cost less than the bus ride had. A new message headed the screen, indicating the vibration he'd felt in his pocket earlier hadn't been his his imagination, a cue he was expected somewhere.

see u soon buddy ;)

Glancing over his shoulder, Clancy tugged the hood over his head and started moving again.

---

It was relatively late in the day when he arrived, the silhouette of the building complex masking the sun like a wall of obdisidian. Clancy stepped inside a relatively narrow corridor, finding a door by one corner where the field of view was about as narrow as you could get. He tugged at his phone and keyed in a message.

im here

The door cracked open no less than a minute later.

"Nick?" a voice asked, a squat man in his early thirties with a scraggly blonde mustache. A friend. Connection he'd made a few days in advance - needed someone to help keep him going. "Hi," 'Nick' said back, shyly, "Um.... sorry if I'm late."

The man threw up his arms, "Hey dude, don't sweat it, I uh-..." he glanced over Clancy's shoulder, then further through a slit in the curtains, "I got a couple beers and some pizza, know you said you were hungry. You uh, don't mind pineapple, right?"

"No, it's cool." Clancy shrugged, a weak smile creasing his lips, "I mean uhm, thanks."

"C'mon in," the guy nodded, his expression relaxing a little. Clancy nodded. It wasn't like he had any other options, he was out of town, needed some extra cash, and hadn't eaten for a while. Some things were a no-brainer, pride or not. He glanced over his shoulder, then off to each side - stepping in shortly afterwards.

---

The agitation had somewhat settled by the next morning. He'd taken what he could get, and used the opportunity to snag a spare change of clothes and a couple other things. Before long, his 'friend' was a barely cogniscient memory that he pushed out of sight and mind, no more calls or texts, and he could get on with what - and who he came here for.

Ashley Stone.

They were connected through her grandmother, who was herself a Patrick by maiden name before she'd married out. She had been a crutch for him maybe, as the only family connection he could actually speak to - even if it was by way of internet messaging. He'd already lost his sister, and it wasn't like he could talk to his brother or parents. And now Ashley was dead.

For all intents and purposes he was a stranger in a strange town. But he wasn't blind, deaf or dumb; he knew the stories about St. Portwell just like any other place, and he'd learned that Ashley had been a part of it - she'd told him enough. And Ashley had friends, and people who knew her from her days as a kid, and all the stuff that happened. The internet was far from a reliable narrator, but he'd found a small collection of names and faces that may have been familiar or linked to Ashley, and recalled from their discussions just what happened. And he had been through enough homeless encampments and shooting galleries in desperate times to intuit his way towards an answer.

Father Wolf.

Supposedly this person had claimed responsibility for her death. Others too, based on the rumour mill. And things pointed towards a local crew of assholes that at best were a bunch of worthless lowlives, and at worst thought they were demonstrations of the primacy of the white race - something which amused him very little in light of what he'd seen back home, when there was a home. Assholes were assholes, even a kid could recognise that, and his dad had taught him too.

If he wanted answers, it was a real possibility that the Wolfpack were at least one of the go-tos. How he'd manage that, he'd figure it out. While at his 'friend's place, he had seen a flyer for some local skinbar, Veni Vedi Veni.

Guess some assholes liked their Latin

There was just one question.

How did he get in?

---

Simone began to think that Auri should have been a bit more choosey with who she invited back to the Coven. At this point, they weren't even focusing on Father Wolf or the information Auri shared. Instead, they bickered back and forth about Kali, some not even wanting to hear him out. The Coven disbanded because of this type of behavior. There had to be a way to get this under control before trying to take on Father Wolf together. Simone was losing faith in Auri unless she could say or do something to get them on the same page without someone getting killed in the process... and soon.

As Eksa tried to speak up and be a voice of reason, Simone could feel the terrible vibrations of her coughing fit in the air. Seeing that Drake finally made the realization that it was actually Jack who popped out of his strange blob, she felt okay to disengage from the two and hustle over to the snack table to pour some water. She carefully walked over and offered the cup to Eksa. "You okay? Here, maybe this will help a little." she said, putting a light hand on Eksa's back as to offer a little support to the struggling woman.

Simone glared at Eve. What an annoying individual, barging into the shop like she owned the place, much like the person Eve was pointing all her vitriol at just did a few minutes earlier. Seemed like she was really just projecting her own issues on to Kali. Before he could even speak, Linquin had to get in her two cents too. Simone's lips curled into a snide smile when Auri served it to Eve straight, but it slightly dropped when she made the comment about her store being destroyed. Well, like she was thinking earlier, maybe she could have avoided some of this bullshit if she had be more careful about who she asked back into the group.

Simone couldn't help herself from sympathizing with Kali's explanation. Yeah, he had definitely changed into someone she didn't realize, but as he kept speaking she could still hear remnants of his former self. He never wanted to hurt anyone back then except the Snake. Why would he want to suddenly cause harm to the group now, even if he's working for the feds? The reason he was getting so much push back was 1. his untimely grand introduction (which she had to admit was doing himself zero favors) and 2. the people who were the most vocal were, let's face it, slightly seedy individuals who she knew for a fact had things to hide about their business. Yes, even Simone had things to hide, but at least she was quiet about it. This was the most inconspicuous group of people she had ever met. If she were in their shoes maybe she'd feel the same way too, but she wasn't, and they were starting to get on her nerves.

Instinctively, she couldn't help herself from stepping closer to Kali when Eve stuck the loaded gun to his head. This bitch... is actually crazy. The fuck?? she thought, but remained silent yet vigilant to the scene in case shit went down. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding when Eve removed the gun from his head.

After trying to listen to the others, it was finally her turn. "I vote he stays. Like the others have said, if he continues to be honest and has true intentions, he could potentially be benefitting us. The FBI have information. All of us can't just bust into the strip club and start going off Scarface style... I mean, maybe some of us probably think we could," she said, her eyes landing on Drake for a brief moment. "but I don't think that's best thing to do right now. We should be a little more strategic about this. What the hell is making Father Wolf powerful enough to kill some of the greatest wizards we know? Like, we should probably do some digging or surveillance before taking him on."

---

"Thanks for asking Sully, and I am doing okay." He said in a genuine tone. It was nice to see someone asking him how he is doing, granted the whole meeting got everyone busy. He and Bella were tight, family and losing family is never easy, no matter what.

However, the meeting has gotten worse. The last thing he expected was Everleigh pulling a gun on Kali. While he does not trust the man, killing him is not something he wants. At least he has not done anything to warrant that yet. He is just outing himself as an FBI agent in front of everyone and adding to the mess of this meeting. Bella really would have hated this, and he knows that for sure.

But with how this meeting is going, it is only making him regret returning. Like seeing how the group handles coming back, and it takes one person to mess it all up. The only thing keeping him here and not out the door at this point is finding Bella's killer. This group is probably his best chance despite how dysfunctional the Coven was. There were people here he did like and is okay with but some of the others... there was a reason he left with Bella.

So after hearing Kali out and hearing what the other people had said, the gun pointed at Kali's head is now lowered. Finn made his decision known and said it bluntly. "Well, despite what you say, Kali. I just cannot trust you, and so I am with Linqian. The things you say do not add up to me and so I vote we kick him out."

Now it is time to see how the others feel, though most seem in favor of keeping Kali around so far. Still, if Kali kept his mouth shut, then Finn would actually have no reason not to trust him. But Kali outed himself at the start, and he says what the FBI was thinking of doing to them and by his word that they did not. The thing just reeks of lies to him, but time to see if the group wants him around or not. Either way, there is nothing Kali will do to make Finn trust him at this point. FBI or not.

---

---

---

---

Drake let Sully swing him around as he returned the same energy to his old friend, and he vociferously laughed. It was like old times! Sully set Drake down, and it was time to hear Kali's big old speech... while he was talking, Eve threw Drake a cigarette, and he caught it without even looking. He kept it between his fingers and hoped to avoid Simone's wraith again because he was confident the pack in his hoodie was crushed. To confirm, he dug in, and it was flattened, and a little tear escaped Drake's eyes as any other time he would have just lost his cool when people messed with his smokes. A lot of what Kali was saying was bullshit government shit, and he droned on and on and on about it - shit about spies, statues, and so forth. If Lady Auri wouldn't rip him a new one with these fancy butterflies, he would have lit one in the store.

A lot of what Kali was saying, Drake dismissed as bullshit, as he knew just a little bit better than to believe everything he's told just because it was phrased nicely. Nice option my dick. Drake thought to himself with a roll of his eyes. When Kali made that vague threat about the people who would come to replace him, Drake took a step forward to make his voice known and tell Kali to shove it...

... When Kali pulled out a gun, Eve just walked over and put it to his head.

In less than a minute, this whole thing went from one to a fucking hundred. Drake didn't particularly like or trust Kali, but he would never agree to spraying his brain matter all over this gay little flower shop! Drake stepped forward, hands together, preparing to cast the Electromagnetic Barrier... when Eve just tucked the pistol in her waistband and Drake sighed in relief.

Holy shit.

Drake was expecting this meeting to be a clusterfuck, but this was something else entirely. He looked to the left, and then the right as everyone cast their votes... and the majority of the vote seemed to be for keeping Kali here for their reasons (Though there was that urge to tell Simone to shove it). It was time for Drake to give his vote, and it may surprise people with the stance he took,

"... I vote that he stays," Drake started, "Look, I don't like the guy, and I don't buy that FBI bullshit, but there is something wrong with the guy. I mean, he just pulled out a gun and let Eve over here place a gun against his head! I don't think it'd be right for us to throw the guy out into the street!"

"I agree, and while I abstain from voting..." Auri said in her usual chipperly tone, unfazed by Kali's stunt. She tapped her staff against the floor and said, "... The majority has voted that he stays! He'll be safe in our care."

"... Does that mean we can finally get this meeting back on track?" Drake asked, turning towards Auri with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes! Sorry about that, everyone!"

"So you mentioned Emily earlier in the meeting like you had more to say about her?" Drake asked, crossing his arms and Auri's eyes briefly landed on the cigarette between his fingers to ensure it wasn't lit.

"Oh, yes... So, we aren't the only Coven group out there. From what our good friend Lynette tells me, there are two others..."

Drake raised an eyebrow. "... Surprised she didn't show up." Drake thought out loud. Then again, his opinion wasn't good of her because she excused Britney's actions every chance.

"One started by our lovely friend Emily G. Reed, the 8th Street Coven. Vashti is her number two, and her two little sisters are the third in command. From what I am told, they have been trying to gain control of St. Portwell's magical scene and have been bullying people for their Apparitions and artifacts. I am certain that they have absolutely nothing to do with Father Wolf, but..."

Auri awkwardly laughed.

"... We all know Emily. She's going to try us."

"Good grief, I thought one Emily was bad enough..." Drake rolled his eyes. "And the other."

"Oh! The Greenwood Coven, Lynette told me about that, too. From what I'm told, they're another Coven formed after we defeated the Stygian Snake that aims to protect the natural beauty of St. Portwell... They're the arch-Nemesis of the 8th Street Coven, but I doubt we have nothing to worry about from them."

"Good, let them deal with each other, I only want Father Wolf and that's it," Drake said as he threw a thumb towards the door, "Let's get a mo-"

The door opened again, and Drake turned around and looked over his shoulder curiously - and the person who was standing in the door made Drake grit his teeth.

Britney Williams.

Drake thought she looked uncomfortable, as she should, as she had zero place in the Coven. She took a few steps forward, fiddling with her fingers as she said,

"Hey guys," Britney started, closing her eyes and then sighing,

"It's been a while, hasn't it?"

---

---

The mysterious redhead awkwardly chuckled as she stared at the beer. Her phone dinged again with another incoming text, and she looked at Alizée and declined, "Sorry sister, I'm good." Then she laughed again, as she didn't so much as touch the bottle. Her eyes glanced over to the stage and watched the two girls begin her routine and then she briefly twisted her face up before her gaze landed on Alizée. As in, the mysterious woman did not so much as let Alizée out of her sight for obvious reasons.

She was probably glad she didn't take the drink after Alizée threatened to drag Violet off stage.

"Oh, well, in that case..." The bartender made unblinking eye contact with Alizée, made a U-shape with her thumb and middle finger, and stuck them in her mouth. She loudly whistled, then shouted, pointing at Alizée,



The DJ stopped, and the two girls on stage stopped dancing as all eyes landed on Alizée as a team of some burly bouncers made their way to Alizée. The two strippers were very vocal about how people stopped throwing money at them. Pink slapped a hand on her hip as she rolled her eyes, loudly saying,

"Oh God, it's always some crazy bitch,"

"Hey, whitey! We're trying to make some fucking money here! Go act crazy somewhere else!" Violet shouted at Alizée, shaking her fist dramatically.

"Yeah, kick rocks, hoe, you're killin' the vibe here!" Pink shouted. "Weirdo!"

The red-haired woman grabbed her beer and cell phone and walked away before she got caught in the crossfire. She typed another text away, only to get several dings in response.

---

---

Location: Veni Vedi Veni
@Punished GN

---

The comfortable rush of adrenaline that shocked her system the moment the bartender whistled brought a welcomed smile to Alizée's face. The night-stalker had been blocked before she could truly get to work. Now? Now, everything would be rushed, but she wasn't opposed to it. In fact, her mind relished rushing through possibilities as the towering bouncers pushed past folks in the dive to get at her.

Like second nature, phantom hands rose beside her, the appearance of melted night messing with the edges of reality. They grew in size, to about the length of a baseball bat, and like a swatter to mosquitoes, one hand locked onto the targets. In one second, the bouncers were marching towards her. In the next, they were sent sailing, crashing tables and patrons into the wall, surprised screams in their wake.

Alizée gave her phantom hand a flex, smirking. Before she spotted a red eye staring at her from the edges of the groaning aftermath. A furious, red eye surrounded in darkness. A hint of the horrors of the Void.

Alizée swallowed nervously, the world swirling under her as she pushed away from the bar. She took two steps forward and had to catch herself, stumbling. The liquor hit hard. But she didn't care. She would be fine, the buzz was even welcome, made her less afraid of the horrors. The buzz wouldn't interfere with her business, she told herself.

But she did have to move. It was best to give the horrors their space.

Now, she was left with a significant decision. The entire dive was staring at her, including the girls. Including the bartender. Including the muscular redhead who had smartly refused Alizée's gift. An almost gleeful look passed over Alizée's features, considering her options in that split second.

"It's obvious. Take the girl, and let's get out of here."

"Not so obvious."

"What are you on about?"

"Why are we here?"

"The murders."

"Yes. Father Wolf. What is a more direct approach, the girl or the texter?"

Void raised a shape of an eyebrow. "Interesting. And what if the texter has nothing to do with Father Wolf?"

"We know where Violet works."

"Ah. So you're changing victims."

"Yes."

"Very well. I approve."

Alizée smirked, and with the go-ahead from Void, she reached out with her other oversized phantom hand and grabbed the muscular redhead, squeezing tight and pulling the redhead off her feet.

"Let's get to know each other a bit better, sister..."

If Alizée was successful in capturing the redhead, Alizée would swipe the woman's phone and make her way to the door, giving a knowing smirk to Violet, staring for far too long, before heading out. She would shove the redhead into the backseat, phantom hand constricting around her arms and torso, and tore off into the night.

They say to never bring business home, but she was certain, by the time she was done with the redhead, they wouldn't even think about crossing her. So, obviously, her destination was the studio apartment she rented at the edge if downtown. No prying eyes there. And if she was careful, the redhead would have no idea...

Edict had been ready to leave the moment Kali mentioned he was a fed. He was even trying to play things cool, and was on board with bringing Linqian and anyone else who wanted to leave along so that they could have some sort of actual pow-wow over the concerns facing them as a group. He didn't much care for talking like this in buildings anyway; all it took was one laser beamed in from a room a hundred feet away at the top of a building across the street, and every single word they said ends up in some file somewhere. Was there any real reason in staying? Did he want to? No!
But, then there was the matter of that funny little itch that he was getting. With everyone in such an emotional state, it was difficult to not prod and poke just a little bit. Just to see where everyone's minds were at. Though they had to let him in to know what was wrong, he knew that as long as he rubbed up against those angry, upset and fired up feelings, he'd be able to start popping tumblers. Breaking and entering of the emotional field: A slow process that required finess and time in order to accomplish. Granted, the moment he released anything, everyone would know. Everyone would be able to feel that Warm Little Center getting cozy against their fields, and it would probably bring the heat back onto him with plenty of ire to spare. Currently, he was trying to figure out why Eve was being so friendly, especially after what had happened with the whole heist thing. He grinned as she passed off a Gray Strike cigarette, remembering the first time she'd given him one as some sort of joke.
It's spelled with an E, Dumbass.
Back when they had better days. Well, maybe her better days. Edict's best days were back in Minnesota, where his money was. He thought about the club, and about the feelings he got when he was able to just unfurl his spectrum of mind altering pseudochemical impulses on a mass amount of Blinds. But, they didn't have Emotional Fields. There was no pushback, no tactile sensory response like he got whenever he found the occasional Triclops among the crowd. It was usually a rush, especially sending the dogs to hunt them down, tracking them by the stress of being pushed and prodded until they were a scrambled mess. He had to set ground rules, after all; and having any Paranormals in his club meant bad business. Meant that there could be someone tracking him, or aware of his business. The only similars allowed were business partners, and they were not allowed to stay and party.

And, with those happy feelings, the love of his legitimate night club business in mind, an addict began to do what an addict does: Use. The only difference between himself and some popper, however, was that their addiction was typically for escape. Their lives are hard, they want to get away for brief periods, they just can't stay away from that feeling of comfort... But for Edict, it was never an escape: It was a wholesale delving into the problems and ambitions of souls and minds that were not his, not because he found solace in their pain and pleasure, but because he knew that he could get somewhere that he didn't think anyone else really could.
Slow, quiet whisps rose up from those gold frames like they were burning a hole into Edict's head. Metaphorical tendrils crept from him like a blind beast hunting for its food at the sea floor, finding Eve and Sully close by to begin rubbing against. They would've felt it first, right around the time Eve shoved a gun into the front of Edict's pants. He hadn't really been paying attention until then, but feeling the polymer finish of the Glock on his cock made him giggle. And the fact that she made sure to give it to him meant that she wanted him noticed too... Like she wanted the target on him. Edict didn't mind; especially not with what was leaking out of him now. But, the two of them would feel a very familiar sensation, and it would spread across the room like wildfire until it washed across Kali and Auri.

And then he was there again. Like he never left: One free hand crept up to sweep the messy curls backward until the visage of that same seventeen year old cocky asshole stared back at them. Never leaving the safety of his shades, always with a toothy grin that screamed superiority complex. The other hand popped the clerical collar off, sweeping downward and tossing it into the nearby garbage pail.
"Well, I mean... Great pitch Kali. You wanna help us now?"
His voice up until then had been practiced. The marked shift came with an active pulse of his warmth, again splashing across the emotional fields of the gathered Coven members like hot coffee poured on a sheet of glass. He was gap hunting; like a vampire about the town on a moonlit evening, he was knocking at every door waiting to be let in, but only finding apprehensive and nervous individuals. Some were annoyed, pissed even. Indignant to say the least, and a few more had some fading empathy that he could smell wafting like a maple scent. People actually felt bad for Kali? And then... His eyes traced across the room to a familiar yet unexpected type of tactile feedback. The emptiness of a Blind. The Third Eye Opened sat somewhere quiet... Maybe she didn't think anyone would notice?

He took a mental note of Tayla, grin widening a bit more. At this point, everyone in the room had gotten the Vampire's Knock. His hand slipped up to back Eve off, clearing his throat as he pulled the stole away from his neck. With purpose, he wrapped the cloth around the gun in his waistband before stepping forward toward Kali. His steps were slow, intensional in their stride as he purposefully positioned himself to block off everyone else. The truth was, he didn't want to bump and grind against Kali's field: He was all too familiar with Mimicry and what it could do, like the garlic farmer's house. Nothing there for him.
Yet, here he was, still gently rubbing an old nerve. It seemed to be dead at this point, however... Not that he hadn't expected ol' Chameleon to have the same weak points as he did back in the day. Regardless, he wanted to isolate the man from the group enough that he could get his point across. So, with the gun wrapped in cloth, he stepped into headbutting range of Kali and held it up for him to take. He didn't want anyone else in the room in that moment: Only them.
"You really wanna help these people? Help us? You'll fly back to Quantico, or whatever pit they keep your unnatural ass in, and you'll make up a big fucking story about how you didn't see shit, you didn't hear shit, you didn't find a fucking thing in St. Portwell. Now take your gun and fuck off."
Thoughtlessly, Edict dropped the gun and sniffed slightly as he nodded at Kali. Then, with a flurry, he spun on his heels.

He was good for a moment until he got to the rear where he could start to get to the door... And then something magical happened: Britney Williams...
Every tendril he had out, every little feeler he had released, it all came rushing back to him. Her hair, her smooth dark skin; the way she walked alone brought back a hundred memories of watching her with pure love in his heart. The retraction was only for a moment, but coming to the full realization that she was there triggered an emotional response. The big pink flower unfurled again, and everyone would feel him wash over them again.
"Brit?"

---

---

"Hey, what the hell?!"

The red-haired woman shouted, dropping her phones as the phantom hands gripped her. She struggled and thrashed the best she could, but she could feel the strength leaving her. "Put me down, sister!" The girl shouted as she kept thrashing more and more. The bouncers relented out of fear as everyone stared on slack-jawed as she just casually strolled out. Even the two strippers...

... who were able to see the Phantom Hands.

"... The bitch got magic." Violet was the first to break the awkward silence, staring directly at her partner, Pink.

"Well, better her than us," Pink chuckled as she held onto the stripper pole, then turned her head to the DJ and snapped her fingers...

... The music cut back on, and the two girls went back to shaking ass like nothing happened.

However, the bartender made a phone call...

---

---

The strip club Veni Vedi Veni was a smallish establishment flanked by all sides by a massive parking lot - likely more extensive than the strip club itself! Beyond the parking lot, the strip club was flanked on three sides by buildings - simply stores and other offices that had the unfortunate luck of being placed next to one of the seediest places in St. Portwell, with the street being the only exit to this glorified parking lot with women that shook ass for cash.

A wind rushes throughout the parking lot, carrying leaves and other stray foliage. The wind traveled throughout the parking lot until it traveled to one of the rooftops overlooking the strip club... spinning all the leaves and sticks in a tantalizing dance until seven people appeared out of thin air. Each person dressed like an anarchist, wearing outfits that concealed their identities; each wore a hoodie, a mask, sunglasses, gloves, and boots... fortunately, the St. Portwell weather was more merciful to them around this time of year.

Some may recognize them as the Greenwood Coven.

The leader of the Greenwood Coven, The Spring Maiden, the bane of Emily G. Reed's existence, was a skinny woman of average height who wore a bright green hoodie and sweatpants. She had a bright green balaclava covering her mouth and nose but exposed her brown eyes to the world. She had on her hoodie over her hood. The most notable part of her was the long tree branch that was far taller than she was that she used as a walking stick. It had various charms and beads hanging off it, and the Spring Maiden walked to the rooftop's edge and knelt to look at the strip club before she stood straight up and faced the rest of the group.

"Judas isn't here yet." The Spring Maiden said before her gaze fell on one member of her Coven, a smallish girl wearing all black - black sweat pants, hoodie, timberland boots, and had on a more hip-hop-inspired balaclava mask. Unlike most of the Greenwood Coven, she had nothing covering what little of her face was showing, and hints of her dark skin shined. "Nao- Silk Knight, you said Judas would be here."

The Silk Knight shook her head as she said,

"No, no, no, I said he likes to come here," She started, "He's probably off doing redneck biker stuff."

One person stepped up, the sole male member of the Greenwood Coven, a towering man who wore almost the exact same outfit as the Silk Knight. With similar amounts of ebony skin showing - he had on black Air Forces (the high versions). Before he spoke, he slung his tribal-style African Axe over his shoulder and chuckled.

"C'mon, you know that man loves his strippers!" He laughed, "Besides, you got a hot date with your girlfriend Emily?" If he wasn't wearing a mask, The Spring Maiden would see that shit-eating grin he had on. Not that she needed to, she could feel it.

The Spring Maiden rolled her eyes. "Never in a million years, Knight Sky."

"We can always get Judas' ass another time,"

"I..." Another member of the Greenwood spoke up, a small woman who was visually distinct from the rest of them. Instead of hoodies and boots, this woman wore a brown-orange robe made of satin and a floral pattern that brought to mind the Indian-sub continent. Her face was covered except for her eyes, and her hands were exposed, but she had henna drawn on her hands in reddish ink... and she also had on red and white Nike running shoes. "... I can't believe we're going to go through with this." The girl spoke in a thick Indian accent that brought the western regions of India to mind.

The Spring Maiden put a hand on her hip, shifting her weight onto it, and said, "Look, Green Shaman, we told you what you were getting into from the jump."

"And don't you remember how Judas tried to kill our asses?!" Knight Sky laughed. "If it wasn't for you and Pearl..." That cocky laughter turned into a more awkward chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I just can't believe you all killed people before..."

"Nazis aren't people, Kash," The Silk Knight spoke in a deadly serious tone with a roll of her eyes.

"I understand where she is coming from," Another girl... a short woman that wore a similar get-up to the Spring Maiden, except she was in all blue and had knee-high black combat boots. She was known as the Winter Maiden in Greenwood. "However, our enemies are ruthless; we cannot afford them any quarter lest we become their next victim."

"Yeah, what she said," Knight Sky said.

"We're going to wait for Judas to show up; Jess will cause a distraction, and then..."

Knight Sky chuckled as his axe was covered in crackling electricity; he gave it a little twirl as he said, "I fry 'im like I did to the wannabe Grand Wizard."

"Spring," A girl wearing all orange... including orange combat boots with a pumpkin symbol on the side. She had her curly dark-brown hair that went to her shoulders on full display, but her face was covered entirely. "Have you heard from Jess yet?"

"No, lemme check..." The Spring Maiden squatted down as she pulled out her phone...The Spring Maiden quickly stood up, and raised her cellphone in the air as if she was presenting it to the others.

"Guys, Jess has gone silent, Autu- Specter," The Spring Maiden turned her head towards the silent final member of the Greenwood Coven... a tall, skinny woman who wore a black facemask but grey sweat pants and hoodie and some black running shoes. Specter Knight stood at the rooftop's edge, looked over her shoulder, gestured for them to come look, then pointed...

Everyone gathered around to see that Jess was getting carried away by a floating hand by some weirdo.

"We have to help her, fuck Judas," The Spring Maiden said, looking over her shoulder. "Everyone has on clothes underneath this stuff, right?" She pinched her hoodie.

"Right!" Everyone spoke in unison.

"Fall, Specter, and Silk get down there; you three are the fastest," The Spring Maiden said as she quickly pulled the green hoodie off and threw it to the ground, revealing a Pink Floyd shirt.

"Heeeeeeeeeey, what about me?" Knight Sky asked, putting a thumb in his chest.

"You can't walk around with that," The Spring Maiden nodded her head at Knight Sky's axe.

"Oh yeah,"

"Stay up here and fry the bitch if we need it, but hurry up! We can't keep up with a fuckin' car!"

Everyone else quickly downgraded their outfits to more regular clothes and went to help their friend.

---

Right on top of Alizée's car, a girl flipped and landed directly on top of it, perfectly on her two feet. This girl was an African-American girl who stood at five-three with dreads tied into a ponytail. She wore a black t-shirt with some black booty shorts... and still had on timbs.

"I don't know who you are, who you're with, or why you're doing this..." The girl said, "...But, please put our friend down before this gets ugly."

On Alizée's left side, a tall girl with curly brown hair and glasses,
wearing the same grey sweatpants and running shoes but had on a black shirt, floated down some distance from her... however, what was notable about her was the necklace she had around her neck. Behind her, she had an Apparition... a spectral echo of a woman covered in tattoos, wearing a robe and red dreads.

On Alizée's right side, A Spanish woman, wearing black leggings and a red t-shirt with ST. PORTWELL written across her chest soared through the sky and landed some distance away. She stood straight up, holding a combat knife in her hands... suddenly, leaves of various colors and species appeared in front of her... almost as if they were aimed toward Alizée in a threatening display.

"Oh, I am so happy to see you all!" The redhead shouted with a smile on her face despite it all. "That means the others are comin' right!?"

Interactions: Mainly Edict, a bit with Britney at the end

---

Flower's and Canvasses
Late Evening

---

The feeling of cold steel pressed against my head. It's not surprising. It's honestly... a little too familiar. This is your fault. I don't care. Like I said, I'm prepared for this. But as I close my eyes and prepare for the agonizing feeling of having your skull being caved in from a subsonic round fired at point blank range... Nothing.

That was fast. But... wait. I can still think. I'm not dead.

That's when it hits me. Red. So much red. All of my view painted in nothing but red, fire, and regret. I don't want to see this. I never wanted to see any of this. A bit late for that now. Just sit back and enjoy the show.

It all flashes before my eyes in an instant. Moments, people, feelings, all of it. I can almost feel my brain overheating from it all. I wouldn't be surprised if it was dripping out of my nose by now. And yet, I can't look away. Not yet. Not until it's all done.

You know, you two might have more in common than you'd to admit. All that guilt for things that don't involve you. All that drive... for things you know will kill you.

And then. It's over. Whatever link there was is violently cut and I feel my soul getting hit by a truck as it gets sent back into my own body at mach speeds. Fuck. Did they see it? The eye color, it must've shifted. Steady breaths, that's what I need to do right now. Don't make any sudden movements, don't make any changes in your expression. If you do it'll only draw attention to it.

I look around. I see. Thankfully the gun caught everyone's eyes. Great timing.

Hm... looks like the vote's going in our favor.

Each person's response, each person's words, I take it all in, one at a time. Not my intention but, at the very least it gives me an idea of where everyone stands with me. Who I can talk to. Who I can't.

I would've had this all under control if you let me. Not without a few bullets you fucking psycho. It would've been more efficient.

Regardless, this is fi-

Then Drake steps forward, and for the first time in my entire life I watch this man... defend me? Defend's a strong word. Strong enough when compared to what he'd usually do. Maybe he has a voice in his head too. Or maybe I'm just getting lucky today... The meeting's finally getting back on track. Finally.

My eyes settle on Auri as she begins to explain information I already know. Still, so that's the extent of what she has huh? No mention of the cult, or the other ones, not to mention the remnants of that fucking group. Yeah... I glance for a moment towards Eve. It's less than a second as I realize I probably shouldn't but I did it anyway. Small town. Really small...
*chck*

I glance back towards Eve again but what greets me is a flying payload of deadly force coming my way. I reach out a hand, catch it, and then look back over to see where the gun that's suppose to be attached to this thing is but that's when I'm greeted by a different sight.

Grayson. He's walking over here, and he's not even trying to pretend he's changed. And he's trying to pull the same shit he did years ago. A warm feeling. I'm sure that's how it must feel to most of them, but to me it's like feeling rat trying to claw it's way into your brain. A warm rat, but still a rat.

"Well, I mean... Great pitch Kali. You wanna help us now?" Grayson says to me.

He's acting confident. A little too confident. Just like ten years ago. Seems like he's forgotten a few things. Slow, deliberate, steps. He thinks we don't know that playbook. It's a power-play. Textbook. He wants to play this game. He's still trying to get in. It'll be harder than last time. We should teach him a lesson. Not now, he's not vulnerable yet.

Eventually, he gets close, walking up to me with that empty pistol in his hands holding it out like he's trying to feed a stray dog. I will admit, he's certainly always been impressive in the sheer amount of disrespect he can convey through physicality alone.

"You really wanna help these people? Help us? You'll fly back to Quantico, or whatever pit they keep your unnatural ass in, and you'll make up a big fucking story about how you didn't see shit, you didn't hear shit, you didn't find a fucking thing in St. Portwell. Now take your gun and fuck off." Grayson says to me as he drops the gun.

Wordlessly, I catch it, reload the magazine, and stow it away back to where it belongs in the holster hidden inside my jacket.

I swear I'm going to tear that boy's brain apart... Not now, we need an open-

And that's when Britney Williams shows up. It doesn't take his emotional field changing for me to know what's going on. Grayson's face says it all. And that's all I need to strike.

The wall goes down in less than a millisecond. He finally gets his in... but so do I. Grayson's abstraction, it's a familiar one. Easy to take in. Easy to use. Easy to weaponize. He always uses it to smooth things over. That warm fuzzy feeling is his way of making people do what he wants. I'm not here for that right now though. I'm here to send a message.

I stand up, walk towards the man. I can see it all. The Screaming. The shaking hands reaching for a gun that isn't there. The shivering of his spine as his fight or flight instinct kicks into overdrive. That accelerated heart-rate. It's all there for me like an open book. He fancies himself a hunter. A creature of the night stalking through the woods of everyone's subconscious. He's still not used to being hunted. As I get closer, close enough to whisper into his ear that cold dead hand I've sent into his soul slowly starts to squeeze.

"What's wrong Grayson? You're slipping." I whisper to him, not even bothering to look at him as I do so.

"You heard the vote. I'm here to stay. But I'll give you a friendly tip. Everyone else isn't on their radar... but you. I suggest you behave yourself. None of us want trouble here, do you understand?" I whisper to him before putting the walls up again, cutting off the connection instantly.

I don't spend any more time on him. That interaction was enough, I have other things to worry about.

That's when I turn to Britney, walk over to where most of the other people are in the group to blend a bit more with the crowd and say, "I almost thought you wouldn't show up. Still, you seem to be doing well."

---

They voted to let Kali stay - which, whatever. Linqian didn’t actually care that much. As long as he stayed well away from her it was fine. She didn’t trust him one bit but keep your enemies close, or something. At least most of them seemed to want him to stay to actually keep an eye on him. Jack gave a whole speech of thinly veiled threats. Hopefully some of it would get through Kali’s thick head.

”I hope you didn't let Emily or Vashti know about this little reunion, then,” Linqian said. ”Last thing we need is Emily turning up and crashing the party.”

She didn't like Emily (who did), but if she wasn’t involved with Father Wolf Linqian didn’t care. He was the one who’d killed her brother, and who she was here for. She leaned back, feeling something warm pressing against her mind. It was nice, almost a feeling of relief from the heaviness of her thoughts, and she almost leaned into it.

Wait, she recognised that subtle touch, like someone knocking at the door to her mind. The warmth turned to something slimy, and disgust roiled in her gut. Fucker really hadn't changed… but nor had she. There was no way she wanted someone messing with her emotions like that. They were her own, thank you very much. She immediately slammed the hypothetical, mental door in his face and shut him out.

"Fuck’s sake, Greyson," Linqian snapped, sharply glaring at him as he was staring down Kali as if they were in a Mexican stand off. Linqian honestly didn't care if they were about to shoot each other, she was much too pissed off with his attempted mind probe. "Stop tryna fondle my brain."

Having told him to fuck off, her flare of anger dampened again, and she turned back to the rest of the group.

“Anyway, I’m with Drake, let them deal with each other, Father Wolf is who we're all here for. I couldn't give less of a fuck about petty coven turf wars.”

It looked like everyone was in favour of getting a move on anyway. Linqian stood up, only half paying attention to the door opening. She recognised the voice, of course. Seemed Britney had decided to join them after all. How nice. Not that Linqian felt one particular way or another about Britney… and she certainly wasn’t running to hug her like Everleigh did (what the fuck, they hugged now? Gross).

Instead she just followed right behind Greyson… and right into him when he stopped in his tracks. What the fuck? Had Britney grown a second head or something? Or was Kali suddenly, creepily, whispering in his ear enough to stop him in his tracks?

One scowl up at Greyson was enough to tell her what was actually going on. Holy shit, he was head over heels for her. Had they dated after the coven? They definitely weren’t together anymore, otherwise they’d have arrived together, or be making out in the back. Damn. For the first time that night Linqian’s expression softened, dark eyes shining with pity and lips curving up into a smirk.

”Damn, buddy,” she patted Greyson on the shoulder (if he didn’t stop her), lowering her voice so hopefully only he (and maybe Kali) could hear. ”You sure got it rough. Don’t worry, I get it. Been there.” She still was there, but she wasn’t exactly going to just spill that she wasn’t over her ex from ten years ago. ”If you ever want anyone to drown your sorrows with, I’m here.”

She then leaned around him and gave Britney a lazy wave.

”Hey Britney. You're late. Meeting’s pretty much over, actually, we're on the way to the strip club now for some much needed fun.”

---

---

Kali was staying. Good. Luca wasn’t sure what was going on with him, but he really didn’t want him to get kicked out. Maybe he should try talk to him after… See if he was doing alright, because some of what he’d said was unhinged. Luca was still reeling from him being alright with someone shooting him.

Like, we should probably do some digging or surveillance before taking him on.

“Simone has a point,” Luca said, glancing over at her. ”Maybe some of us should stay behind and look into other leads, do the digging and all. It’s better to have more information than less.”

Also, he couldn’t really go to the strip club, and he still wanted to be useful. If they insisted on everyone going, so be it, he could keep watch outside.

As he thought about this he felt a warm, slightly familiar feeling - someone tapping at his mind asking to let him in. He considered it. He’d done it before, once, ten years ago… And he felt better than he had since the rot adjoined to him. But that was just the problem. Back then the rot had used the opportunity to slip in the gap he’d opened up for Edict, trying to whittle away at Luca’s sanity. He’d been able to resist it then, but now? After ten years of its constant torment? He wasn't so sure.

So he didn’t let Edict in, and turned his attention to the opening door. Who else was there to come? Surely it wasn’t-

Britney.

Just like that, Luca's mental walls cracked, leaving a gap large enough for Edict's renewed, probing tendrils to slip in, unnoticed by Luca himself.

Luca didn’t let his smile slip, expression calm even as his feelings ran wild inside of him. There was pain there, and the hatred he’d thought had long cooled off. It wasn’t as strong, but it was there, suddenly eating away at his positive facade just like his abstraction ate away everything around him. Everything he’d suppressed surged up.

Part of him, the part he tried to keep buried, wanting to walk right over there and shake her hand like nothing had happened… Like he was offering a truce, letting her know he'd moved on. The pain she’d feel from it would only be a fraction of what he’d suffered, but it would be satisfying. He’d pull away before her skin started to rot, of course. Well, maybe he’d let it start, just a little-

Do it.

The harsh whisper of the rot in his mind snapped Luca out of the horrible thoughts he’d been dwelling on. No, he wouldn’t. He’d moved on from this. Sure, seeing her was a lot… But he’d been prepared for this when he decided to come back. The turbulent concoction of emotions made it difficult, but it was fine. He’d be fine.

Ignoring her was the best move.

Luca turned away from the door, reaching for his bag. Maybe there was a back door he could leave through, he’d ask Auri-

The side of his bag that he’d grabbed disintegrated in his hand. Three cheap phones clattered out onto the floor, along with a couple of tubs of prescription pills. It wasn’t quiet, because the phones were built like bricks and landed with a bang.

So much for making a quiet exit.

Mentions: Auri@Punished GN

After Auri and Kali went to talk in private, the flower shop became a clusterfuck. More members poured in. There was a lot more talk, a lot more noise, random bits of magic, and Tayla wasn't coping. She slipped back to a time where she was at a club not too far from here with the Wolfpack. The music loud, laughing, cussing, fighting, fucking going on all around her. Many of those occasions she'd been doing the fucking with whoever paid for it in oxy or money to afford the oxy. All of it blurred together and it was getting too much. A sensory overload she supposed. She sank far into her seat, tuning out the noise and focusing on what she could see. Paintings on the walls in vibrant colors. She felt the chair under her butt and the floor under her feet. She smelled flowers and cigarette smoke. She could go for a smoke right now. And she would've, if Auri and Kali didn't come back right then.

She thought they could get this shit show on the road, but Kali got real weird. Like thought he was going to shoot himself in the head weird. She couldn't be around threats of suicide. That's the last straw. She pulled out her phone. It's about 10 passed 7pm. She ordered an uber to drop her off at the ferry, so she could get a boat ride home. She knew she shouldn't have come. Thought she was strong enough to deal with any possible triggers, but there were a lot and she wasn't sticking out to slip up.

"If Kali doing weird shit like that with the gun, then he can stay from a distance. Like he's in a hotel and we talk via FaceTime. If that's not good enough, he can take a hike," she said. She kept her gaze on her phone, watching the uber driver get closer and closer. It helped for her to concentrate on something that's not this. They were a minute away. She got to say her last goodbyes just as Britney walked through the door. She's happy she's about to leave.

Britney was only memorable, because of the numbers she brought into the Coven back in the day. She heard about the falling out, didn't know the details, didn't care to know them.

"Hi Brit, bye Brit." She pointed her finger at Auri. "Text me when y'all figure out what y'all are going to do. I refuse to get involved with the Wolfpack. Have me do something else." She checked her phone. "My ride's here. See y'all whenever." With that, she took her leave.

The ride to the port was ten minutes. She made it with thirty minutes to spare. The ferry man, Jerry, stood at the bottom of the gangway, hand out for tickets. His route was to take passengers to the fancy hotel on an island 20 nautical miles off the shore. He had to pass by her island to get there and on occasion he'd give her a ride. She hasn't asked for one in nearly a year. Keeping to her routine was paramount. These damn murders might be the thing that slips her back into her addiction.

She asked him if she could get a ride. He told her to come aboard and that was that. On the way home, she smoked a cigarette. That was her second one of the day. She tamped it out and put it in the public ashtray. It was a little after 8 when she got home. Siwan wasn't a sleep yet, even though he should've been. Her father was a softy and couldn't resist his cute little face. She got him ready for bed and put him down to sleep, before eating and going to bed herself. She hoped something not Wolfpack related came out of the meeting. She wouldn't be useful without it.

The sound of the heavy bag swinging in between the guitar riffs kept the pace. Leon stared at the thing as if it had killed everything he loved, an intensity that hadn't been matched in some time. His blood was boiling, and at this hour of night he should've been sleeping rather than up punching something that didn't care about being punched. Something was telling him there was shit going wrong out there, and ever since the call about Ashley came in, the Remnants had been on lockdown. Or, at least the ones he and Daisy could account for.

The last blow caught the heavy bag deep in the gut, driving it upward on its chain and causing the whole supporting structure to rattle as Leon continued to pound away with bare knuckles at the inanimate object. It was focus: Sheer focus on one thing and one thing only. Getting the job done fast as possible with as few mistakes as possible. There was no score card after you drive someone to the brink of life and death. You leave them there, they falter, and once they regain consciousness the match has already been called. You had to be able to deliver the killing blow from anywhere, and he couldn't help but catch a glimpse of his own physique as his body contorted hard to the side to delve another devastating kidney shot to the, again, inanimate opponent that didn't seem to care at all about his assault.

The hundred plus pound bag hoisted upward again like a Smash Bros. trial participant, yet showed no signs of yielding in its slow and methodical counter-assault as its chain slammed off the support beam above it. Everything was probably fine... Just another late night energy attack for a kid who was always doing too much. He tried to think about the current events: A wolf statue ended up on Ashley's doorstep, then she's dead? Why? He knew she wasn't the greatest witch, she wasn't even necessarily the greatest friend, but when the time called the people rallied to her call and, what? She's condemned to death? He already had suspicions that it was one of their own. Some other rejected member of society who can't fit into either world they exist in, some corrupted Stygite for whom the war never ended and the Sycamore Tree never stopped screaming in their ears.

The phone in the office began to ring. Leon took deep, protracted breaths meant to bring his heart rate back down as quick as possible. Sweating like he'd just been out in a storm, he picked the towel up from it's hanging place on the equipment nearby and began to run it across his face and head.
Never good news at this hour.
No... No it wasn't ever good news at this hour. He tolerated the jabbing from his inner prison, long ago having come to accept that he would never be able to shut her up without holding the pillow tightly over her face while she slept. While she still had access to his physical senses, his own mind was a secure office in which he could think and plan without her knowledge or consent. It was her punishment for preying upon the Coven... Now here they were almost a decade on, and things hadn't been an issue until now. Why now?
He stepped into the low-light of the office, leaning himself against the table like it was a stool for his massive frame. The phone looked little in his similarly sized hands, but he still pulled it from the receiver to his ear with grave.

"Gravity Gym, you've got the Wolf: Howl at me."
A practiced answer. The reply wasn't so practiced. At first, Leon's face caved forward into a confused scowl, but that very quickly shifted into a far more open and peeled back look of fear and concern.
"Auri, listen... Listen to me! There's an explanation! There has to be; Daisy wouldn't say something like that to you and then not follow up if there wasn't a good reason!"
Another pause. He was starting to think that there was probably a good reason for his heart being up tonight.
"That's the last thing we're gonna think about right now! Let me call Lynette a-"
Interrupted. She didn't want the Temple involved. Frankly, he didn't either. His Mother always had a bad habit of getting stuck to things she didn't belong in, but she and Daisy were family. Direct family, and Leon thought that her involvement was justified. Auri wasn't so convinced.
"Fine, fine! I'll be there in ten then, just stay alert and flood the fucking place with butterflies!"

Fucking Judas... Hadn't shown up all day. Leon had spent the earlier parts of the day staked out in a nearby coffee shop hoping to interrupt some of the Wolfpack's business. While there was no surefire tip that the man in charge knew anything about Father Wolf or the ongoing problems for members of the Old Branch, it was too difficult to have his own moniker dragged through the dirt while some fuckass used it to kill his friends. Ex-friends. Some were still close, but those memories were cold in the grave. He missed seeing the guys, or hearing about what others were getting up to. Even some of the more troublesome people...
His right arm was occupied by one of the floor matrons of Veni Vidi Veni, and while he hadn't been especially receptive to advances, he was perfectly happy to have her there for getting him stuff. He'd already stuffed a cool grand in her pocket to keep his name out of her mouth when dealing with the other girls, and had done so similarly with another who happened to greet him when the establishment opened. He came with a band, and was prepared to spend the whole thing to make sure that when Wolfpack did eventually show up, Leon would be the first person Judas Bennet would be dealing with.

But, that was hours ago. It was getting later, and he was half a bottle of rum deep with the Earth seal pulled back ever so slightly to keep the alcohol metabolizing at a higher speed. Booze, as it turned out, was great fuel for the Lady. Spirits. Leon giggled to himself in a stupor as he listened to the music. Still, he was staring at the front door, only occasionally peeling away to place a drink down or pick it back up. Even conversing with his hostess was half-hearted, his focus too pointed on the issue at hand. He passed the drinking off as an energy store in case things went south with the MC, but frankly this was the first time in a week he'd sat down for more than ten minutes... He didn't want to go to the meeting Auri was having, hoping to hear about who actually came through before he decided to get into the business of briefing and debriefing people about the involvement.
Then, who came through the door? Certainly not Judas fucking Bennet, but a familiar face none-the-less. From the corner booth, he'd recognize the pale white hair and slender features of his fellow Aberrant anywhere: Alizée Altieri! He nearly broke off from the dark corner booth, but decided that his legs were too gelatinous and sludgy to reliably carry him on into a conversation with her. But, he was able to question what the fuck she was doing here: Out of anyone, he figured she'd be at Auri's little meeting, if anything to save face for the nightly business. He was curious about what drove her off, but equally curious as to what her intention was here. She wasn't looking to hunt, was she?

The Hand, the Hand! It grips and pulls at us! Break the vessel, break the beast!

Leon frowned a bit. Drunk bitch... Leon continued to stare as some kind of exchange was happening at the bar. The red head looked familiar, like someone who had shown up at the Gym a few times. She was ripped, and he found himself nodding along. Maybe she'd get away from Voidlight. Leon's hand slipped into the pocket of his jeans, and he pulled out a small wad to hand to his hostess.
"Y'know, you've been swell tonight. But, I think I'm gonna be going here soon, so-" he politely folded the bills into her hand. "-be free, ma tourterelle. Don't spend it all in one place now, and... If you see me sleeping? Just nudge me awake and I'll slide on out."
"You sure you don't want me to call you a cab Mr. Richoux?"
"Nah, no worries. My ride is here." he said, pointing up toward the bar at Alizée.
The girl nodded, taking him at face value and thanking him for the relaxing shift before prancing happily back into the back to get ready for ending her shift. Leon, now alone, knocked back the rest of the drink that was sitting in front of him before fully outstretching his legs. Even in that short span, things had begun to turn at the bar. Alizée had started in on her own beverage, interacting with the red head and seeming to be joking about in some way.

It wasn't until Pink and Violet started their stage set that things got weird. Out of nowhere, the bartender was whistling for security and the red head seemed to ghost out as fast as possible which... Well, it didn't go well for her. At once, Alizée's massive spectral hand gripped her by the chest and squeezed tight. Leon had felt it dozens of times, some willing and some by chance, but no matter what it sent a visceral sensation through his body. It was a sympathy pain of the highest order, and kept him from moving for a moment as the adrenaline of his body began to mix into his own charged blood. He leased the Water seal, followed by Air and Fire, letting the energy pool in him before flushing it out through the Spirit seal. It didn't mean he wasn't still drunk, only that in a few minutes he'd not be drunk, and if he kept things to a light strain, he'd probably soak an extra five minutes out of the sugar in his gut and the booze in his liver.
Alizée pushed out the front door with her target in tow, and as he felt Lelou's connection, he stood up with a great big exhale. The giant at the corner of the bar slipped down, grabbing his hat and his flannel from the booth and slipping them both on before slapping another couple hundred on the table and making his own path to the door.

As he immerged, the Greenwood Coven was already moving to surround Alizée, so now it was pretty clear that backup was a necessity. He let the doors swing shut behind him, sauntering closer and closer until he was looming over Alizée from behind.
"Quel est le problème, ma douce main? La nourriture ne peut pas être si rare, non?" (What's the problem my Sweet Hand? Food can't be so scarce, no?)
His voice growled, and his Emotional Field pushed outward as Lady Lelou's energy bolstered his own. He'd only slightly released the seals, the hair on his face thickening into a black fur matching his long flowing hair that cascaded down his shoulders. Leon's eyes looked up at the Red Head in the clutches of Alizée, then back out at the assailants.
"Let me guess... She's with you?" he asked toward the Greenwood Members, having only a vague idea of exactly who these Portwell Power Rangers actually are. "And, who is you, exactly?"

---

Sloane had a migraine. It had started as a probing pin in the back of her eye as Kali flashed his badge, flared as Drake pulled a lightning blade on Jack for upstaging everyone’s entrance, and exploded into a jackhammer pounding at the back of her skull by the time the gun had come into play. The only thing that kept Sloane from flopping down in a chair and groaning in agony was a stubborn refusal to allow any of these people see even the slightest crack in her veneer and the preemptive dose of extra strength aspirin she’d popped on the car ride here. She’d anticipated a number of terrible scenarios for this evening ever since Auri had called but witnessing someone being held at gunpoint had not been envisioned. Name calling, scab picking, dick swinging, fist flying, and a few rogue spells, a couple of bloody noses, some bruised egos? Absolutely. A missed opportunity finally coming together and eventually spiraling into a toxic relationship? Slim, but possible. The whole thing being a massive ruse by Father Wolf to get everyone together in one place to wipe them out and wipe them all out in a massacre? Not very likely, but she’d considered it.

Somebody blowing someone’s brains out after they offered up their own gun? No, she hadn’t been stupid enough to consider it.

It had played out the best way possible—with the gun eventually taken out of play and whatever Kali had inside of his head in place of a brain still there. It was almost upsetting. Fancy for a moment an alternative ending: Everleigh grabs the gun with not intention to murder but every intention to showboat, Kali had been incorrect about a round not being chambered and the safety being on, her hand slips, he flinches too hard, an attempt to intervene goes array, and bang. At least in this scenario Everleigh learned that no amount of Kool-Aid poured from Sullivan’s Chalice would ever fix the leak in the middle of someone’s forehead and Kali would never needlessly share information, or anything, ever again. Instead, the way it had panned out would only further fuel the irresponsibility of the two.

Relax, nothing went wrong Karen.

Yeah Sloane, don’t sweat it. It’s not like it matters if I’m killed, even though if I do die it immediately burns everyone in the room and the full force of the FBI will be up everybody’s ass by breakfast.

Allegedly, anyway.

The fluorescents were starting to hurt so bad that they were blinding. Sloane closed her eyes as she listened to Auri attempt to turn the meeting away from the dramatics. She focused in on the conversation, trying to ignore the sharp throb in her head, but becoming distracted when the pain mixed with something else. Something soothing. It was like the night tide had come in on a warm tropical breeze and pulled the migraine away into the Caribbean Sea. Sloane opened her eyes and hazarded a glance at Greyson. She saw him discard his Spirit Halloween priest costume, the same place Kali had picked up his badge perhaps, and shift back into the Corey Hart sleazebag she’d known as a teen.

He wasn’t looking at her in the flower shop, too busy flirting with Eve and Kali, but she could feel him watching her stare out at the sea as pink tendrils caught her migraine and drowned it in the undertow. He’d stopped right at the edge of the boardwalk, blocked by a rope and a sign that said ‘Private Beach’, his hands occupied by a pair of tiki drinks topped with tiny colorful umbrellas. She could let him in. All she had to do was lift the rope. She wouldn’t have to be alone on her little beach. There could be someone with her who knew what she was feeling without her having to say or explain anything. Somebody who just got it. An instant connection without the struggle of heaving emotional baggage over conversational hurdles. Sloane was surprised by how strong of a temptation it was; she felt her mental self peek over her shoulder with an acknowledging look.

"Hey guys." The sea breeze died; her headache emerged on the crest of a tidal wave and crashed down on her. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

As Greyson’s tendrils pushed back out he would no longer find his foot tapping on the boardwalk at the edge of her beach. He’d find that Sloane had disappeared behind the Iron Curtain and he was being roughly patted down at a security checkpoint with contraband in his pocket, spotlights and sniper scopes trained on him from the top of towers, with a razor-wire wall before him and nothing but a minefield and a killzone behind him, and a doberman growling at his crotch. No sign this time asking for privacy. It was clear enough that he’d fucked it. Back in the flower shop, Sloane slipped a card from out of her jacket and walked across the room with purpose. Her approach was covered by the arrival of Britney, the departure of Tayla, and Luca’s fumble.

Sloane was likely unnoticed until she emerged from the group to step between Greyson and Britney. Sloane didn’t welcome Britney, because she wasn’t. She didn’t acknowledge her with a look or a nod. She just turned her back, focused on Greyson. Sloane looked up at him, catching her reflection in his sunglasses. She didn’t appear angry or annoyed. She just looked bored, as if she was flipping through a catalog to choose which color of off-white paint she was going to pick solely just to watch it dry. Perhaps a little more tired than usual, too. In her right hand she held her Channeler, a faded and folded tarot card with the image of a woman sitting on a throne with a sword in her right hand and her left hand raised to receive.

“Do you still think we are a bunch of stupid children who have no clue what they are doing, Greyson, or is it you that hasn’t changed? I could see how a couple of us may have given you that impression,” she said without looking away from the glasses. Her voice was calm and measured, loud enough to be heard by the group but soft enough they’d have to strain if they wanted to catch it all. “Maybe you just felt left out. Everybody else was throwing magic around without care. Still. It doesn’t justify the choice you just made. You have another choice now Greyson. Two, actually.”

She held up one finger.

“Option one: you allow me to modify your Channeler so it breaks when you cast a spell on any of us currently present in the shop, the mark in a place so obvious that anyone could tell if you undo it.”

She held up a second finger.

“Option two: you explain to us what value there is to allow you to cast your spells on the group because, as far as I can tell, they have none."

She raised her left hand, mirroring the woman on the card, “Your choice.”

---

---

Location: Veni Vedi Veni, Parking Lot
@Punished GN, @AtomicEmperor

---

"I don't know who you are, who you're with, or why you're doing this... But, please put our friend down before this gets ugly."

Silence.

Then, a long sigh.

She was surrounded on all sides. That escalated fast. From the necklace the girl on the left wore, to the girl on the right posied with sharp-seeming leaves, to the trump card leading the jump staring Alizée down from on the top of her car roof. How inconvenient.

The redhead chirped despite getting the life passively squeezed out of her. "Oh, I am so happy to see you all! That means the others are comin' right!?"

Others?

The ground under her drunkenly swooned, and she stumbled, hiccuping in an uninterested manner. There was a weight in her hand. Oh. The phone. The redhead's phone. It was still open. Alizée stared at the African-American woman in front of her for a long moment, watching if they would kill her on the spot or wait a bit.

They seemed to be waiting for a response of some sorts. Good.

She checked the phone, scrolling through the texts. One part stuck out to her as she skimmed. This... group. These magic-folk, they were looking for the Wolfpack too. That was interesting.

She looked up, her platinum hair stirring in the night wind, before half-heartedly tossing the redhead's phone up to the girl standing on her car. Instead of giving a response, she procured a cigarette and matchbox from her purse, striking the match and lighting the end, taking a suck that made the cherry end glow, lighting up a mind racing with thoughts.

"Well, well." Void said in a hushed, gravely tone in her mind, looking over Alizée's shoulder. "He's got some damn good timing, doesn't he?"

"Quel est le problème, ma douce main? La nourriture ne peut pas être si rare, non?"

She leaned forward a bit, feeling the monster of a man towering behind her as he asked his question. The cigarette was pressed to her lips again, another draw lighting the end. Smoke swirled around her purple and red eyes, mixing with the shades of Voidlight passively wisping off her aura.

This wasn't good.

They were outnumbered. She was unsure of the talents these magic folks possessed. She was also unsure if there were more. She had back-up. But... would it be enough?

She took another long draw. About 45 seconds had passed since she grabbed the redhead. Time was slowly ticking down for the lady, but that's what Alizée had. Time. She could see the flickers of white light seeping off the woman's gripped body, coalescing around Alizée, slacking a portion, a sliver, of her thirst. Time...

Time to fight?

No. Time to negotiate.

"Merci, Leon," She glanced up out of the corner of her eye at the towering man. Her friend. Her elder brother. "Mais il semble que nous ne soyons pas les seuls à rôder ce soir."

She took another long drag, before flicking the cigarette down, and crushing it under her heel. Her lazer gaze glanced up at the woman standing unceremoniously on her car.

She gave the redhead a squeeze in her phantom grip, relishing it for a moment before a helplessly predatory smile crossed her features.

"Tell me what business you have with the Wolfpack, and I'll let her go."

---

---

“We ain’t with nobody, ya’ weirdo!” Naomi tilted her head and stared at Leon as she caught the phone quickly. It was clear that these two were with one of the many magical factions operating out of St. Portwell. These two could be any one of the psychopaths that roam the streets at night. Naomi was not the one to jump the gun because Wolfboy just transformed; they didn’t seem like the Wolfpack. These two did not seem like drug-pushing white trash. However, they reminded her of 8th Street or the Nazi-wannabes.

Naomi glanced to her right and saw Pearl and Kashmira running down the fire escape. James and Ruby chose not to come, but Naomi saw them watching out of sight. Smart. Shango’s axe and Ruby’s branch would give them away. However, it’s not like the two can’t provide support from up there.

“… The real question is, why the fuck are you two doing this!?” Jess shouted as she struggled to break free. “I was doing nothing but sitting there, you crazy bitch!”

“Jess… calm down,” Naomi said to her friend… this bitch wanted to know what they had to do with the Wolfpack. Now, going around Wolfpack turf yelling that they’re going to try to kill one of the city’s top crimelords was top-tier stupid. Her eyes drifted towards Amelia, who was quiet, even though she could probably feel how this was going.

There was that part of Naomi that wanted to talk things down, but that smile after she squeezed Jess like a chew toy… she was fucking crazy. She was probably going to kill Jess even if they told this psycho the world’s most convincing lie!

She glanced to the right again, and the two had just made it down the fire escape and were running across the parking lot, which was great. She turned her head towards Amelia and did a hand gesture, a very subtle movement of the fingers that Greenwood did to send signals to each other discretely. It was simply tapping her fingers together, one that could be mistaken for a nervous tick. Amelia saw, and Naomi spoke to Alizee, very annoyed,

“… We’re just trying to get some blow so we can party…” Naomi started…

However, Amelia swung her hands in front of herself in a wide arc. With this swing of her hands, she created a powerful blast of air that should be strong enough to knock Alizee and Leon down - infused with some of those razor-sharp leaves.

Naomi hopped into the air, doing a flip with her hands fully extended. Out of her hands came a net of ethereal glowing white webs, with the sole purpose of binding the two. The webs are an Emotional-Field and would be difficult to destroy with magic. Naomi landed behind them with her webs in her hands.

Autumn focused on the ghostly hand, commanding her Apparition to use telekinesis to pry the hand’s fingers open to free Jess.

Pearl and Kashmira were almost there…

---

---

Well, everyone seemed mostly fine with Kali staying. Unsurprisingly, Tayla left. Good for her, she didn't seem like she could handle this. The damn gun was an escalation that didn't need to happen. This other coven that the others seemed worried about was a surprise to Jack. "What unkillable horror from beyond this world are they trying to kill?" That was, obviously, a joke about them stepping on the Sycamore's toes, but he hoped it wasn't really why 8th Street existed. "If they'll test us, then we should just deal with them as they come. If we need, we can bait them into fighting this Greenwood coven to keep them both distracted." One old coven banding together to solve a murder mystery shouldn't intrigue what sounded like magic political wars.

He would've added more onto that, but the doors swung open. And Britney was there.

Jack and Britney were on... Odd terms after her secrets were revealed. Luca did not deserve what she did to him, but the others didn't seem to care that much up until the moment she showed up. Despite that, he had so many fond memories of that girl guiding him down the path he took.

"You're... Alive. I didn't think you would be." It's hypocritical coming from Jack fucking Hawthorne, but maybe that's the joke.

And of course, all hell broke loose as Luca lost his shit on the floor, and the tensions in the whole room flared. One thing stuck out in particular, to Jack, though. That would be dear old Greyson's magic. For a brief moment, there was resistance, and then the door fell through, as Jack willingly let him stumble into Jack's emotional field long enough clumsily feel confidence, stillness and a sense of superiority. One that was target at Greyson specifically. Jack's consciousness was like an old monument; Standing in spite of countless weathering that mere human beings were incompatible with, riddled with damage from exposure. By travelling in the Void as he had, Jack was... Different now. He had seen things that most would go mad from, and embraced them. Edict was a fly on the wall to him.

"I agree with Sloane. Do you want that time with the cactus to be the second worst thing to happen to you, Greyson?"

---

---

Stormy tapped his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the radio. He always thought this day wasn't meant to come, that the coven was just a memory from a time with a dire situation. And yet, here he was a decade later, rolling down the streets of his old stomping grounds. St. Portwell held many mixed feelings for him. His father died in obscurity, but so did several of his friends. Who the hell could do that from so far across the world, at the same time as somewhere in another country? Another hemisphere entirely? How did you track someone like that? Stormy rolled up to a parking lot on the other end of town, and took the long way to Auri's place. It was getting late, and he really should've arrived sooner. He would have, but it took forever to set up his course for the online format. He answered six different emails while leaning against the driver door, and then took in a deep breath. This shouldn't have been making him feel jittery. Stormy had nothing to fear, he never had anything to fear.

Walking down the streets, Stormy kept a low profile as he flicked his eyes from one lane of buildings to another, looking for familiar faces. Anyone who might stand out, who might've been lagging behind. Stormy wondered, just how many of them were still alive right now? How did Father Wolf know which of them were from here or not? What if-

There.

In the corner of his eye, he saw it. Flowers and Canvases. A car or two were pulled up already, maybe there weren't that many people inside? There could be two people on the other side of that door, or 10. He wouldn't know until he opened it. And Stormy wished he hadn't opened it. Stormy walked in, quietly, with his head held up. Body language told everyone who looked at him, that he was confident in showing up. Looking around, he saw a lot of them. A lot of his old friends.

"I tried to get here sooner. It's great to see all of you, how much did-"

Britney.

His eyes fell on the woman who most of the coven cast out. The one none of them trusted, the one he wanted to snap in half for ruining lives.

And so, like any normal person would do, he got mad.



A pair of glowing green shields manifested across Stormy's forearms, both laced with chain-like patterns of red energy to match her lux. This was the same spell that he used to hold back monsters summoned by the Stygian Snake years ago. If he started throwing these at a person right now... "What are you doing here?!" His voice went from that of a gentle giant, to a war horn that spoke English. Forget Kali, forget Judas. This was what he was fixating on now, in front of everyone.

---

So Kali looks like he is going to stay, which feels like a big mistake, but the Coven has made mistakes before. Britney comes to mind with Luca being here and being a clear example of what some of the Coven has done in the name of the greater good. The greater good, why does that sound like an excuse to do horrible things and get away with it?

Finn could only sigh at the thought, and his thoughts turned to anger when he felt a certain someone's mind tendrils try and get into his mind and by the sounds of it. Finn's mind was not the only one that they tried to get into. He sighed again, how is there going to be trust in this group when people are just using their powers on each other like this? Finn does not trust Kali, and now Edict is trying to worm into his mind, and that will not work. Finn's Emotional-Field is too strong for Edict's attempt, and he will get nothing in return.

"Yeah, I too am with Sloane," the clear annoyance in his voice. "Do not use your magic on us for any reason, and we will be fine."

The last thing he needs is to worry about other coven members messing with them while someone is trying to kill them all, but it seems like Edict cannot help himself.

Why am I here again? Finn asked himself once again. He is just getting memories on why he left the coven in the first place, and can they even find Father Wolf before it is too late with how things are progressing here? Tayla straight up left, apparently not wanting to deal with the Wolfpack. Luca tried to leave, but his curse made a quiet exit a noticeable one, and as he continued this train of thought. The last person he expected to show up was Britney.

Finn did not say anything to her, and he only had mixed feelings. While she did stick up for him when he was with the Coven. What she did to those people, Luca's life is ruined because of her. Some people here seem to have forgotten that, and Finn just gave her a cold start as he turned his attention to Stormy, another late arrival. Only Stormy made his anger known to everyone and to Britney. Time to see what happens and what Stormy does. Nothing good, he thinks.

---

Nothing beat going to a strip club on a rare day off.

Bianca sat at the bar near the back, bottle of Heineken beer in hand. She was in a relatively inconspicuous spot… if she wasn’t a woman in a stripclub filled with cheating husbands. But hey, it wasn’t her fault most gays didn’t go to places like this. The loud thrum of music filled the air, and the low murmurs of patrons and strippers wasn’t even bothersome. She tapped her fingers against the table in front of her, smiling slightly as she took another sip of her beer, gaze slowly flickering between the stage and the entrance.

Since she’d miraculously gotten the Sycamore Tree coven reunion day off, she’d considered actually attending the meeting. Even if she couldn’t actually help them, because that was Kali’s job (and they couldn’t afford to have two people doing the work when only one was actually necessary), it would’ve been nice to see everyone. Relive old times, maybe, when she would’ve been in a strip club like this with other riotous friends and a fake ID. Those sure were the days, when all they had to worry about was a single interdimensional threat as opposed to multiple threats that, while confined to one dimension, incurred a hell of a lot more paperwork.

There wasn’t any paperwork when she was a teenager. Damn, she missed that. Paperwork was the one thing the job could really do without.

Of course, it wasn’t completely a day off. If it was she wouldn’t be sitting in a wolf club run stripclub… She’d be sitting in a much classier one somewhere else! Being a bit of a workaholic, paperwork aside, she couldn’t just relax. At least here there was a chance of seeing something that’d help pin down the Wolfpack, and she got to feel the relaxing aura of attractive women shaking their asses on stage.

Hopefully it would be a nice, peaceful time filled with-



Bea’s head snapped towards the commotion, hand dropping to her side out of reflex… Except she wasn’t in her normal uniform. Going to this place in a suit would get her at best kicked out. So of course she’d dressed down.

It wasn’t hard to find out who was causing the problem… Especially when there were two fucking phantom hands batting the bouncers away like it was nothing. Bea’s lips fell open. She wasn’t shocked by the hands, so much - paranormals like that was just an everyday thing. It was more who they belonged to. What was Alizée doing here? Suddenly her relaxing day off was getting a lot less relaxing.

Ah, kidnapping was totally illegal. Even if it was in a seedy club the law hardly reached.

Not that there was anything she could actually do. Sure, when she’d actually known the girl she would’ve rushed right in there to stop her… But she wasn’t the same Bianca she’d been back then.

It seemed some people hadn’t changed one bit.

What to do… she wasn’t going to call in backup over what looked like a petty fight between two girls. Even if one of the girls had magic that she used for nefarious purposes too often. It was fine. Her boss would have her ass if she called in something so small… But she’d also have her ass if it became bigger when it could’ve been prevented. A bit of a dilemma. So much on the line… Like her view of Violet and Pink dancing their asses off!

Bea let out a light sigh as if she had to do something, rather than just ignoring it, and stood up. She pulled a cigarette out of the pack in her pocket, holding it between her teeth as she headed outside (taking her beer), slipping on a pair of large frame shades. Could never be too safe, Alizée might recognise her. She’d just pretend she was out there for a smoke, something she only did on occasions like this, and observe.

Keeping a careful eye on Alizée, Bea edged around the building so she was away from the entrance. Leaning against the wall, she lit her cigarette and tilted her head away as if she wasn’t looking in that direction, while her shade covered eyes flickered back over to Alizée… And the four girls surrounding her. Maybe a bit more than a petty fight. A very uneven one, at that.

Bea was considering whether she should step in after all when a colossal man joined Alizée- one she also knew.

Was the whole coven here? Maybe Bea didn’t skip the meeting after all.

She leaned back against the wall, taking another drag of her cigarette. She’d just continue to carefully observe, and if things got really bad, maybe she’d make the call.