@Punished GN@Atrophy@FernStone@Blizz@AtomicEmperor@everyone
Kari Wilson's House

---

Clancy gave Layla a queer look, thinking back on what she'd said. Blood on his hands...

She was the girl who'd taken Alizee's place, if what little he understood about them was correct. What was she talking about? Blood on his hands.

The mess, left by the nazi asshole at the club?

Friend?

The parasite. He realised now, the shadow wasn't there - not that he would miss it. The entropic wound it formed wherever it stood was absent, though he thought it was a shame that the French girl had needed to die first. "It wasn't your friend. One dead host was never going to be enough. Believe me, you're better off without-"

Something interrupted his train of thought. Lingering further from the doorway, a rotting presence was the best way he could describe it. One of the others, stood outside, a skinny latino with darker, almost-tatty clothes that put his own garb to shame. He wasn't sure why, but he got the impression there was more than a skin-deep deterioration to him. Maybe he'd find out later.

Everyone here had their secrets, it seemed.

Clancy understood that especially.

Britney had questioned him before, and he'd addressed most of her questions as far as he was willing to, but there was one outstanding point. That he'd taken a bullet in front of about half of their number was a point he'd dodged so far.

"Got better," he answered in response to her and Stormy's continued interrogation, "No, don't let me stop you from getting wasted, I'm just here for-"

---

The recollection hit him with no less force then the rest of them, like a waking dream being observed through a filter. A memory slipped into his consciousness, through the eyes of another person. Senses he'd not experienced for a long time. And then it was over - and he was back in the real world, or the closest thing that could pass for it to him.

The sound of something crackling capped off the recollection as they returned back to their senses.

Of the group of them, Clancy was among those that had expressed the most discomfort - for lack of a better word. Not a physical pain, no, but the crinkled expression and fight-or-flight posture were an indicator that the memory had broken some of the mental walls he'd set up for himself.

And, as if to emphasise the point, there was another section of the cabin's plaster wall damaged when they regained full cogniscence, a gouge about the size of a hand, as though someone had pressed their palm to the wall and dug their fingers into the plaster.

White dust coated his sleeve and fingertips, the most incriminating factor. It was the most emotion he'd expressed in the presence of others for a long time, and it was no doubt they could probably see that.

"You're seeing them too, right?" he asked, breaking the silence to draw attention away from the damage. They had to have seen it, otherwise why had they all stopped at the same time?

None of the faces in the memory were familiar to him. The names were, somewhat - albeit in fragments. Names he'd heard in passing. And Kari herself. There was one that gnawed at him, though.

Emily.

He'd heard that name before, several times, from different places. Around St. Portwell - mentions of the Eighth Street Coven, and before that, when-

When the name had been brought up by Ashley. During their internet chats, they'd gotten to a point of trust that she felt capable of sharing snippets of herself with him, as he had the same. About family, and loss. Other things too.

Ashley hadn't spoken of her like it was a good thing, he recalled.

Come to think of it, there seemed to be a pattern to this. And 8th Street were a player in this town he knew, and a relentless one at that.

"I don't recognise them." Clancy said, wiping the plaster fragments off on his jeans, "But this Emily-... she sounds like an asshole."

The truth was that he was wondering whether she was the kind of asshole that needed dealing with. That was his first instinct. The second instinct was the question the first, because instinct was a component he couldn't rely on without losing himself.

It was difficult to say. The vision had kicked at his senses, unbalanced him. Maybe it was the same for the others, but his sense of north and south had pivoted in light of the sudden alteration to the established rules of his existence. He didn't dream. Couldn't sleep, even. Had no need for either. And yet here he was, in a waking dream, with strangers.

"Like I said, I don't know most of you, barely have names for faces, but Emily.... she knows who you are, right?" he continued, "You've got history. Is she part of this?"

---

---

Linqian rolled her eyes as Amara came up, talking some crap about how it was going to be a long day and just being a pretentious ass. She hadn’t even fucking turned up until now! It wasn’t like Linqian had even said that much shit to Sloane. When it came to how she normally talked to Sloane, she’d been pretty fucking polite. Held herself back, even.

”I hardly said shit, Amara, so fuck off with your. Whatever.” Linqian held up her hands, rolling her eyes at Amara again and stepping back. She could hear Layla say something to her in the background, but ignored it, since it didn’t add anything… Plus, she was still butchering Chinese when speaking to her. Fucking hell, this was one of the reasons she didn’t want Henri meeting anyone here.

”Three, didn't you get shot?”

”Huh, he was the kid that got shot?” Linqian looked between Britney and the kid. She hadn’t been in a position to get a good look at that kid’s face, and honestly stopping herself bleeding to death from two bullet wounds had been a more pressing concern. But he did look a little familiar. She squinted at him, before shrugging. Not her problem. He said he wasn’t living on the streets, he wasn’t her kid, she didn’t have the time or energy to worry anymore about it. Enough of her own shit to handle.

She moved out of the house and back onto the patio. It was difficult to keep up with everything Kenshiro was saying, with his ability to jump around so many topics, but she did hear him suggesting a drink in the memory of everyone they’d lost.

A drink for Jinhai.

She’d had so many of those, alone. A nice bottle of wine meant to celebrate his new job, drank the day after he died along with three more until she passed out on the couch. A shot or two stolen at the end of almost every shift.

A drink with others, for the victims, would be nicer.

”I’ll join that drink,” Linqian said, almost smiling, and moving towards Sully. It was good to see him again, without the whole toga party situation. Ken too. ”For Jinhai and everyone else.”

But when Aislin got out a bong and started lighting it up, Linqian blanched. Fucking seriously? Here, in front of a house they'd just broken into? When talking about their dead? She was getting fucking high?

Linqian shot her a heated glare, lips twisting down into a scowl.

"I'm almost positive we're being watched from those trees by someone. Just a feeling."

Linqian hadn’t even realised Tayla was there till she spoke up at being watched. She really wanted to talk to her again and make it clear she wasn’t alright with half the shit Edict had said in the bar that night, and that if he came after Tayla and her son Linqian would be the first to kick his ass, but right now didn’t seem the time. Not when everyone was around.

And at the end of the day, she’d make the same decision. Edict was the one paying her enough to keep her housed, and her brother fed. She was even able to start paying off the interest on her debts for the first time. That couldn’t fucking compare to a little bit of solidarity.

But maybe she should try talk to her, check things were cool since she’d basically been the sort of neutral party. It wasn’t like Tayla knew she was working for Edict… At least, as far as Linqian was aware.

”Hey, Tayla, how-”

Suddenly, she remembered.

---

”The fuck was that?” Linqian grimaced as soon as she came out of the recollection. She quickly glanced around - no Edict, so he wasn’t fucking messing with them. Wasn’t there a word for something like this? Some mind fucky memory shit that happened a few times around the Stygian Snake… Man, the fuck was it called? Whatever. Who fucking cared.

The contents of the vision were what was important. She furrowed her brow as she tried to think about it. She wasn’t good at this shit. It was the kind of stuff Jinhai would always take charge of. He was the one good at figuring things out and deciding what to do. Linqian could make decisions, but they very rarely worked out well without him. Fuck. Just think about what it focused on…

Emily… 8th Street… 8th Street… Linqian narrowed her eyes, something niggling at the back of her mind. She narrowed her eyes, ignoring the kid's question about Emily in favour of a harsh finger pointed at Sloane.

”You know, Sloane, Vashti said the funniest fucking thing at the Halloween Festival,” Linqian said, stepped back towards Sloane. ”She said to tell you to drop round their manor again to talk to Emily. Want to tell us what the fuck you and your worse half,” her finger swapped to Anya, then back to Sloane with a sneer, ”are planning with 8th? Behind our fucking backs?”

---

---

Luca nearly jumped out of his skin, spinning around to the source of the loud bang on high alert. After yet another few unpeaceful days thanks to a certain skeleton, he was a little on edge when it came to things like this… even though he felt otherwise pretty chill. Chill enough to handle Britney’s presence, at least! Sloane didn’t appear to have done too much damage, either… At least it was less than he would’ve done just stepping near it.

And people were unnecessarily going at each other again. But there was nothing he could do about it, and there was nothing he could help with in the house. He was just as likely to destroy any clues as he was to find them. He was most useful out here, keeping watch just in case.

”The bar is officially open.”

”Heyyy, Sully!” Luca waved to Sully with a grin, finally getting an opportunity to actually talk to him. He got a bit closer, but made sure to keep at least an arms length between him and anyone else. It had been ages since they’d talked, since he hadn’t really had the opportunity the last few meetings. It was great to see Sully again in seemingly good form! ”You don’t happen to still have a water gun you could use to shoot me over some of that elixir? I bet your aim’s still as good. We had the technique absolutely down back in the day.”

Stormy asked about the kid, and Luca frowned trying to remember. ”Yeah, he was there. Said something about being Ashley’s cousin. Strange kid, we didn’t hear much before we were teargassed.”

Strange kid indeed.

Luca’s expression wavered for a moment, but he ignored the rot’s voice in his mind. It was often the best way to deal with it. As he ignored it, he caught Ken’s words, then saw the tears running down his face. Shit. He wanted to say something to comfort his friend, but he didn’t have the words. And Ken didn’t dwell on it, so Luca wouldn’t either. Best to just move on and remain positive about things! As others moved in towards Sully, Luca stepped back to avoid catching anyone in his rotting aura.

”No alcohol for me,” Luca held up his hands and waved them. Beyond the logistical problem of actually getting a shot to him, he really couldn’t risk drinking. Especially not when he’d just barely recovered from the last two days of rot caused illness. He knew Ken would understand… Ken knew more about his state than anyone else here. It was difficult to completely hide from someone who visited randomly and semi-frequently. He didn’t know just how bad it was, at least. ”If I’m going to watch everyone’s backs - because a basement is the worst place for me - I gotta be sober! I’ll take a pretend shot.”

He smiled at Ken, raising his empty hand as if raising a glass.

Until Aislin got out a bong. Luca coughed as the smell, and the light smoke, hit him, turning around and bending over as rasping coughs wracked his still recovering body. ”Hey, Aislin, do you mind doing that elsewhere-”

Suddenly, he was pulled into the recollection.

---

Luca was still reeling when he came out of it, a gloved hand reaching up to press against his forehead. He could feel the start of a pounding headache, the sort that started as a pressure underneath his skin and built until it was a sledgehammer against his skull. Maybe it was just all of the noise.

”Yeah, we saw it,” he said as Clancy asked, glancing down at the dent in the wall that he could just about make out from over here. Had he done that? Well… it should be a surprise. Luca touched a wall and it was destroyed just as easily. No wonder the rot seemed to sense something off about the kid.

He shook his head as he tried to think through the recollection. Tried to place it. Before Kari and Elsa were murdered, obviously. After he’d left 8th Street. Relatively recently? How long ago had he left? He couldn’t remember exactly… But that didn’t matter. Emily had wanted Kari to join. That made sense, she knew a lot. But why now? 8th Street had been together for ten years. As far as he was aware, they hadn’t reached out to Kari when he was part of it.

And there was a hint of guilt bubbling in his chest. She’d mentioned Lisa and Ella… Luca remembered them well, even after such a short friendship. He’d liked them both too, yet he’d joined Emily’s coven. He hadn’t known them as long as Kari, but still…

He shook his head, snapping out of it and looking back over to Clancy when he asked about Emily. Shit. He glanced at Britney, then back at Clancy.

”I’ll explain,” Luca raised his voice, stepping towards Clancy before anyone else could start talking about Emily - whether it was shitting on her, or shitting on Britney for what she did to her. ”I’m Luca, by the way, anyway… Emily was a part of the old coven. And yeah, she is an asshole. She was an asshole then too. But someone here forcefully adjoined her to an apparition, so you could say there’s more bad blood because of that.”

Luca decided not to mention Britney by name, because that seemed to be like unnecessarily airing dirty laundry. He couldn’t stop anyone else from doing it- but they certainly couldn’t have a problem with him not because he was the only person here actively dealing with the aftermath of that shit.

”She started her own coven, the one mentioned in the, uh, vision - 8th Street. At first they were trying to learn about magic and get rid of the abstractions that some of us- them had been given against their will. Then a few years back they started doing other shit… Anyway, she’s part of this because Father Wolf will also be after her, and at least four other 8th Street members who used to be part of our coven.”

He winced, hearing Linqian in the background going in at Sloane for contacting 8th Street. While he didn’t explicitly state it, it would be fairly obvious he knew more about 8th than the casual observer would.

Honestly, aside from Jasper, Lila, Lynn and Ken, 8th Street (Emily and Vashti aside) still felt like more of his coven than Sycamore did.

”They do have a book that can basically tell you anything, so they might know something about Father Wolf. I don’t think Emily is him-” because she would’ve killed Britney first, and years ago, “- but they might know something.”

”I see things never changed,” Aryin sighed as she spotted the aftermath of Sloane’s forceful entry to Kari’s house. Though it did surprise Aryin that it was Sloane. She was not surprised that someone blew open the door, but she would’ve thought someone like Drake or Linqian would be the culprit. Aryin turned her eyes to Linqian as she patted her shoulder and smiled. ” If you need backup, let me know. And I’ll hold you to that drink!”

Aryin knew there were a few other people she’d like to talk to now that she was back. Her eyes drifted back to Drake, she chuckled as she once again caught the bouquet of flowers. What a guy. Drake was someone that Aryin looked up to. They fought the good fight together for many years, and they were back in the thick of another mystery. Aryin shifted her eyes towards the open door. Sloane was another person that Aryin would like to touch base with. While the two were never truly close, she was the one who helped keep this city safe and at minimum Aryin wanted to restart that professional relationship. That’s when she spotted Sully holding Aislin and Aislin regaling him with a tale of her flight into the brick wall. Aryin quickly closed the distance and tapped Sully on the shoulder.

”Hey big guy,” Aryin looked over to Aislin and gave her a little wave, ” don’t suppose you can hook me up with some healing juice and a story about how you’ve been? You were so brave for coming to my defense, Aislin. I could’ve taken him out if he didn’t throw me back to the city from the island.”. As Aryin paused she swapped back and took his shirt off, revealing the massive bruises on his chest and back. He put his shirt back on and swapped back up. ”George is very strong..”

Aryin spotted Drake heading towards something ready for a fight and Aryin was about to back them up when a most peculiar memory flooded their mind.

---

“What a bitch,” Lynn spoke in a tone that everyone could hear as aggressive as the door flung open. However the comment was not directed towards Sloane, despite Sloane being a righteous cunt. No, no that comment was directed towards someone who was doing something far worse than destroying the home of her ex. Her eyes watched with an angry intensity as Linqian took a breathe. How dare she breathe the same air that Lynn might want to breathe later. Lynn rested there, anger building in her eyes, before she truly realized what Sloane had done.

“That cunt,” Lynn whispered as she darted her eyes back to the hiding spot for the key. If she had just waited a minute she would’ve grabbed the key and spared the door from the relentless assault. Lynn closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, exhaled, took in another deep breath, exhaled, and found a rhythm through the breaths. In two three four - out two three four she repeated the phrase in her head several times before she smiled. That was a better reaction. The smile was short lived as a realization sank in. She was about to be back inside Kari’s house, trying to figure out what exactly happened to her former love, and there was a non-zero chance that she might still be alive. A second later she experienced the most vivid dream, another one of those vision ones. This one was even more impactful than the previous ones. This one involved Kari. Lynn knew that she had to go to the future to do everything she could to figure this out.

“Listen, I’m going to go in there. I’m not going to get involved with any of those fucks but I want to do my part to see if I can help,” Lynn said as she exhaled and started to walk towards the door. A few moments later she maneuvered through the crowd and found her way to Kari’s old bedroom. It looked like she remembered it, prompting Lynn to exhale as she crossed the room to the bed. She sat down, facing the door and took a deep breathe. A second later she was in the first of many possible futures and was dead to the world around her.

---

Lila looked over the assembled masses and her eyes were filled with an anger that was more potent than any before it. On her phone’s screen was a text from her grandma letting her know she was going to be discharged that day. She was fine now, but the news of the break in and the damage caused had put her in the hospital, and Lila had spent three past few days sitting on that feeling of powerlessness, that feeling of someone destroying her sanctuary and her grandmas stuff. She did not know who exactly did it all, at least not yet, but she did know that it was not father wolf. It was some fucker in the 8th street who was going to tell her exactly who told them to do it while she slowly peel away their skin. And then, a memory hit that’s was more real than any other before it. And it seems that everyone had it as well.

“Luca I’m really glad you’re no longer with that group,” Lila scoffed as she shook her head, “i don’t know what they were like before but I can’t stand that a transphobic, house destroying cunt like Emily is allowed free reign in my city. If it were up to me,” Lila paused as the image of her claws deep within the throat of Emily filled her mind as a wicked smile threatened to cross her face, “she’d have her coven disbanded and sent to some PRA research facility to study her twisted brain in a safe place.”. Lila meant in a therapy sense but if they cut hers out and studied it that way that would not be the worst thing. Transphobia was one thing, but having someone nearly destroy her house and threaten her directly was another thing all together.

Lila turned her attention to her crows at the thought. The 8th street would be looking for her based on the threat that was left behind, and Lila did not want to be caught off guard. She sent a command to the whole murder. Spread out, stay hidden in the trees and on the roofs, and watch for any signs of the 8th street. If they were to see them coming they would raise a massive stink, alerting not only Lila but the rest of the coven as well. The murder took off at once and the area was filled with the thunderous sound of flapping wings and caws.

“I’m glad you saw reason Luca, it’s been really nice becoming your friend again,” Lila finished with a genuine smile.

---

“I agree,” Jasper said as he eyed up Luca, “it has been really nice.”. He looked at the kid and leaned back. Something felt off about him but Jasper could not place exactly what was causing that feeling. Maybe it was the fact that a literal kid was shot, and lived, or was it the fact that he seemed to pop up a lot more often than he would suspect a kid would. Where were his parents? Did they know he was out trying to avenge his family member or were they worried about him? And what exactly was his abstraction? “I’m Jasper, by the way. The one girl who just left was Lynn, and that is Lila. I won’t speak for them but I was not exactly close with Ashley, but I am sorry for your loss. If you need anything at all let me know.”

Jasper returned to his painting. He was still working on the knight but was adding a fun little twist to the usual design. Instead of the long two-handed sword Jasper was painting in his fury. The two handed hammer of war was given special intention, to break and destroy anything it faced, while his knight was focused on speed, agility, and smarts. If a fight were to break out his knight would dance around whoever dared face it, keeping itself safe while waiting for their moment to strike. He was nearly finished with the painting when he stopped suddenly and grabbed a fresh canvas. He wanted options in case a fight were to happen, his eyes nervously looking towards Drake. And no option was as flexible as the Ranger. He wondered if he could give the Ranger the magnum, but decided that his usual armament of exploding arrows would be sufficient.

---

---

“Are you okay?” asked Aislin.

“Oh, yeah. I got a pretty thick skull,” said Sully, knocking on his head with the Chalice to highlight his point and wincing as he discovered his beanie offered less cushioning than he had anticipated. As for if Tayla was okay he didn’t know. It had been a few days since he had been in contact with her, sending her a somewhat coherent text about what had happened at the strip club and ignited all of his problems with her stalker. He had planned to introduce the idea of helping her (and therefore himself) out at some point during their meeting. Certainly somebody could come up with an idea that was better than the one he had which was currently to keep roping Dean along until he got bored and forgot all about it.

However, any thoughts about that were immediately distracted away as the others turned towards Sully to take him up on his offer. He was warm and welcome to all, hamming it up the entire time and healing whomever needed it, “Aryin? What’s up! You know I got you. Keep, keep your shirt on. I believe you. Look, maybe we just don’t punch George anymore. He’s a big dumb idiot, and speaking as one myself I can tell you the best way to take us out is by using your head. Like say you hear an ice cream truck or something if he ever causes you trouble again. Gone. Immediately. Anyway, I’ve actually got some huge things going on in my—Luca!”

Sully gave Luca their old patented greeting of an air high five. Sully patted his jacket and backpack as if looking for a squirtgun.

“Damn you know what? You caught me lacking. Shit. I was a real deadeye back in the day. We could always go back to the flicking method,” said Sully, mimicking the motion with his fingers. He refused to bring up the fountain method Luca and Sully had tried. The less said about that the better. “Any stains would come out. Probably. You don’t like that shirt, do—that was the kid who got shot!?”

Sully craned his head to look inside the house again to get a glance at the kid as if to confirm it, despite barely having a good look at the boy before he had vanished at the nightclub. He didn’t get a good look again before, "Sully!? Put the fucking cup away, my friend!”

Sully looked rather shocked as Ken started pointing out his brazen brandishing of the Chalice, Ken’s point made even stronger by the red healing elixir dripping from the tips of Sully’s fingers that he was about to flick at Luca. The constant Chalice dreams were becoming a bit bizarre, but he was around good friends here. Nobody was going to nab it. Plus, maybe Emily had only accidentally taken it. Everybody was very drunk by that point, so it was easy to see a mixup happening. Like she was a jerk and there was no denying that, but her plan of theft couldn’t have been to just snatch the artifact right out from underneath everybody’s noses and walk away as if she was completely unseen. She had been dressed as a dragon in a toga. She was impossible not to notice.

Still, Ken managed to make Sully feel guilty for his more-than-occasionally flippant use of the Chalice. No, fuck it, Ken was right. Sully had let it get stolen, Sully kept waving it around like an idiot. He didn’t want to have to give it back to Sloane for safekeeping, unaware of how terrible a choice that would be anyway, so he’d have to take it upon himself to be more responsible with the Chalice. Head hung, he bashfully shrugged his backpack off of his shoulder and stashed the Chalice away. The second he put his backpack on again Ken was calling out for a drink with the same dramatic intensity as the thespians who performed Shakespeare in the park. The Chalice was half-pulled from the bag when Ken asked when he had ever wanted a drink and prompted Sully to start putting it away again. Sully continued to yo-yo the Chalice in and out of his bag until it became clear that, yes, sake shots were happening.

“Right on, just one moment, Ken,” said Sully, slightly out of breath.

It felt like he might’ve pulled his shoulder. He crouched back down and slid a pack of biodegradable cups out of his backpack, preparing a round of shots for everyone as Aislin pulled out a bong. Hell yeah, just the thing to take the edge off of everyone. As Aislin coughed right in his ear Sully missed Clancy drop the most important piece of information—that he and Ashley were family. If Sully had heard that instead of Aislin’s lungs going on strike he would’ve rushed into the entrance to introduce himself to the kid. Insead he remained on the patio, passing out cups of sake to all who reached, including a specially made non-alcoholic one for Luca in a cup that would likely rot all too quickly. Paper sake cup and Chalice in hand with has backpack still dangling haphazardly from his elbow, Sully went to join Ken in a toast to their fallen but then he stopped, his eyes going wide.

Tayla had come. A wave of relief flowed over Sully. He gently pushed his way past everyone on the patio and gave her a bright smile. He was so happy that she was here. Before he had the chance to check in on her, Tayla said, "I'm almost positive we're being watched from those trees by someone. Just a feeling."

“Oh shit! Is it your stalker?” said Sully, unintentionally saying it loud enough that others might be able to hear. Drake buzzed by overhead, his body crackling with lightning off in the direction to go whoop that creep’s ass. Sully’s boy had the right idea. Now wasn’t the time for questioning, it was the time for action. He ran by Tayla to join Drake, handing her his sake cup as he passed. “Get inside. We got this motherfucker! AY, DRAKE, GET HIS BITCH ASS MAN! GO, GO, GO!”

The backpack slipped down from his hand as he ran and a loose strap wrapped itself around his foot. Sully tripped head first into the Recollection.

---

---

So she was working for someone else then? thought Sloane.

Sloane came out of the Recollection still biting down on her knuckle. It had been the best solution she had come up with in the moment to avoid snapping at the group that had decided to turn their investigation into a house party with shots of sake and bong rips. She surprised herself briefly at the sound of something cracking, concerned that between her stress and adrenaline she’d bit through her finger like a carrot. Her eyes lasered in on Clancy, the bits of plaster falling from his hand. She realized that it was bad for her as an adult to hope the others would turn on the kid and hound him for damaging some of Kari’s cabin to take the heat off of her. Sloane naturally assumed the asshole comment was directed her way, but it didn’t matter. The kid was ultimately after what they were after.

And apparently he had survived being shot. Intriguing. File it away for later.

Sloane shouldn’t have even witnessed Clancy’s accidental vandalism. If not for Drake coming in she would’ve been upstairs already. Her basic flight or fight instinct broke when she saw him holding a bouquet of roses. She watched him out of the corner of her eyes, too uneasy to make direct eye contact, too stupidly hopeful to completely ignore the possibilities. Her eye twitched as Drake turned and bolted out the door. The possibilities bubbled and became vitriolic acid. She rubbed her finger, briefly toying with the idea of going after him and forcing a confrontation. Sloane didn’t even know if she would accept an apology. She just needed to be acknowledged.

No, focus!

”You know, Sloane, Vashti said the funniest fucking thing at the Halloween Festival…” started Linqian.

Of course Linqian was going to try and start something now. No focus. Sloane’s face became a blank slate and folded her arms as Linqian revealed that she knew about Sloane’s visits to the 8th Street manor. Sloane showed no tells that anything Linqian said was more than just Vashti’s bullshit being parroted through the mouth of an idiot. Her eyes watched Linqian’s finger jabbing between her and Anya. Anger flared back up as Linqian tried to loop Anya into her accusation. It had been Sloane’s idea and she had gone alone. Anya hadn’t dealt with them at all. Linqian was just acting out of pure spite and pettiness now to someone whose only crime was being Sloane’s friend.

“Listen, Linqian…” started Sloane.

Her voice was so low that it demanded leaning in to be heard. She glanced back at Anya, transmitting an apology with her eyes, and shifted ever so slightly to put herself between Anya and Linqian. With an unexpected speed Sloane struck away Linqian’s finger with a stiff backhand moved to riposte by jamming her own finger at Linqian’s face. She didn’t have the chance. Sloane was quickly countered when Linqian grabbed her by the collar and pulled her in close. Sloane was unflinching. She glared at Linqian with mocking contempt and wrapped her hand around the woman’s wrist, signaling to her: let go or “let’s go”, stop wasting my fucking time.

“I don’t give a shit what you say about me, but leave her out of this. Anya didn’t do anything, you idiot,” hissed Sloane.

”Fuck off, as if you two aren't fucking joined at the hip,” Linqian snapped, grip tightening on Sloane's collar and getting fully in her face. ”Quit that shit and just fucking explain while I'm still playing nice.”

“Nothing happened. Emily and I never talked. So stop being stupid. Stop being distracting. Go search the house. That goes for all of you,” said Sloane, raising her voice from the low whisper she was speaking to Linqian with so that all could hear. She didn’t take her eyes off of Linqian. “This isn’t some social gathering where we have time to drink and smoke and paint. We’re here for a reason. How many more need to be lost before you realize how serious this is? It’s time to stop behaving like children, to stop playing nice, and to get the fuck to work.”

“Right, Linqian?” said Sloane, squeezing the woman’s wrist harder as Sloane’s other hand slowly crept towards her Channeler. "You can help me search the basement."

Mention: Drake @Punished GN, Sully @Atrophy, Luna @Estylwen

Tayla wasn't surprised no one heard her. Or so she thought. She was surprised Drake had an ear out. She still didn't like him, but she'll give him credit where it's due. Given he seemed to want to apologize to Sloane for something. She couldn't remember if she was there when something happened or if she overheard conversation about it, but whatever. Regardless, he wanted to apologize. Maybe he has changed. She'll reserve whether or not to give him a shot at changing her mind about him later.

She nodded when he tapped her shoulder, though his touch made her skin crawl. It wasn't him. She didn't care for people touching her in general. He took off towards the trees she pointed at.

“Oh shit! Is it your stalker?” Sully said so fucking loud she's sure anyone that didn't hear her warning definitely heard him. “Get inside. We got this motherfucker! AY, DRAKE, GET HIS BITCH ASS MAN! GO, GO, GO!”

He handed her a cup in passing. "Sully, shut the fuc-!"

A second later she was pulled into a Recollection.

She was dizzy when she came out of it. She'll take that to meaning they might have another lead if Kari was in 8th Street. Whoever the hell that is. She was well versed in other magic groups the popped up after the Coven disbanded, aside from the Wolfpack. Whoever Emily is sounds like another pain in the ass she doesn't want to deal with. And where the hell is Elsa? She lived here too and Tayla can't remember ever hearing about Kari having a relative that was recently in town.

She looked down a the sake cup and poured it out on the lawn. She stopped drinking when she was pregnant with Siwon. Her first drink in years was wasted at the bar with Greyson and Linqian. She had maybe two or three sips. She's never having another drink around the Coven again.

She went to Sully on the ground, idiot somehow tripped over his own backpack, and crouched next to him. "For my sake, let's keep anything about Dean between us," she whispered. "It's bad enough he's on my ass. I don't need the Coven asking why a member of the Wolfpack knows me." There's wounds of pain and hurt and terror she doesn't need nor want to explain.

She patted him on the back. "Get up big guy. Sure Drake's gonna need some back up." She slipped her headphones back on to keep up with the woman-that-was-watching-them's location. She can't fight anymore, they don't need to know that, but she can be useful for tracking as long as she stays within range. She found the woman and concentrated on her thoughts, doing her best to block out the thoughts and voices of everyone else. Drake and Sully would need to know if she moved.

Near Kari's House
_{Mentions: Sully (@Atrophy), Tayla (@silvermist1116) Direct Dialogue: Drake (@Punished GN)}

---

---

---

---

Luna knew she was cooked the moment Tayla made eye contact. Tayla may not have known exactly where Luna's hiding spot was, but it was written all over her face, magnified by the binoculars. She knew Luna was here.

“You've been compromised.”

“Yes.”

“What will you do?”

“They know someone is here, but they don't know who. They'll be on edge. They don't know how they're getting picked off.”

“So you're expecting it to be violent?”

Luna watched the patio with her naked eye, binoculars lowered. She thought for a moment, before she saw Drake tap Tayla on the shoulder.

The binoculars hid her eyes, and she mumbled aloud. “Saa naa. (Who knows?)”

She saw in high definition Drake's piercing eyes search the treeline - her hiding spot. Her eyes narrowed in response. This could get ugly very quickly.

Drake's aura became electrified, and he launched himself off the ground. He rapidly took up space in her magnified vision, and she ripped the binoculars away.

He was headed straight for her!

There was no time to react.

“The eviden-”

“I know, I know!”

The binoculars were dropped, nearly landing on Sully. Luna quickly sat back, adjusting the sleeves of her tucked overcoat and leaning back against the trunk of the tree. As Drake moved closer, Luna looked the picture of nonchalance with legs crossed at the ankles, and hands inconspicuously resting behind her head.

Sully was now within earshot as he screamed ‘Get his bitch ass’, and Luna showed a flicker of contempt over her face. Sully automatically assumed she was a ‘he’? The nerve.

Girls could spy too.

But that's not what she was doing, now was it? No, she was completely innocent here.

The recollection blasted her in the face, nearly causing her to lose her position. With her back resting against the trunk, she was stable enough to only recoil a little, the branch trembling underneath her weight.

8th Street… What did 8th Street have to do with the serial killer?

Luna pursed her lips in thought, then spoke loud enough for those nearby to hear.

“Drake, you look good. You saw that too, didn't you? It seems you need my help again.”

She stared steadfastly, face an unreadable mask, only a slight tremble giving away that she was a bit nervous about the electric storm raging towards her.

---

---

---

The Recollection faded, and naturally, Britney was as puzzled as the rest of the group.

It seemed that Emily's ugly head resurfaced after ten years, and it was entirely her fault. She sighed, shaking her head as she turned away from the group for a moment so they wouldn't see her. She heard about all the terrible things they were doing from Lynette Domínguez, and Britney knew that she should have cared for Emily ten years ago as if she had Alizee and the Void Heart. She would like to say that she was better late than never, but how many people did her actions hurt? How many people has Emily hurt? How many has Vashti hurt? How many people did 8th Street hurt?

However, there was also the question of just who Kari went to help with Emily's harassment. If Kari had reached out to Britney, she could have helped, but she knew that Kari hated her for what she had done, which was fair. However, the odds of Emily having something to do with Father Wolf were... relatively slim.

The odds of Kari having something to do with Father Wolf were extreme.

”You know, Sloane, Vashti said the funniest fucking thing at the Halloween Festival. She said to tell you to drop round their manor again to talk to Emily. Want to tell us what the fuck you and your worse half. Are planning with 8th? Behind our fucking backs?”

However, Linqian quickly jumped on Sloane, which reminded Britney of her encounter with Vashti at the Halloween Festival. A lot was going on at that moment, and then she went to Sabrina's house with the others, so she didn't have much time to process it. However, Linqian was jumping the gun. Even though Britney found it odd, they didn't have anything concrete and would only make Sloane try and cover her tracks better or allow her to play the victim when something popped off. Britney took a step forward placed her hand on Linqian's shoulder, and said,

”Look, Linqian,” Britney began. ”That came from Vashti's mouth. Vashti. You saw how crazy she is.”

---

---

---

The Recollection faded, momentarily disorienting Drake as he didn't get a moment to process the information it gave him. It raised the question of what exactly Emily and 8th Street were up to, but that was a matter for later. What was important was the person spying on them... which could be Father Wolf stalking them. Drake stopped, floating at a similar level to their spy, as he held his electric shield in one hand. He remained stony face as, on the other hand, he created his electric halbred. He stared at this figure as she just lounged as if shit was funny. She was disguised, wearing a funky little dress with a mask on her face. Drake twisted the corner of his lip.

“Drake, you look good. You saw that too, didn't you? It seems you need my help again.”

Drake was taken aback.

There was something familiar about their stalker. Except... Drake had mainly forgotten about Luna in the past ten years (And if he did, he would be way more hostile). The only thing on his mind was that this bastard had something to do with Father Wolf - either she was Father Wolf or worked for him. The latter was the only thing that stopped him from attacking off-rip. Drake raised the Halbread until it was mere inches away from the Spy's face.

”... Take that mask off, stand up against the tree, and keep your hands where I can see them,” Drake commanded. ”You're coming down with me. We're gonna find out who you are and why you're stalking us. And if you're that Wolf Bastard, you're dead.”

... And if you're working for him, you're also dead. Drake added internally as he kept his eyes on the Spy.

He wished that he had made electric handcuffs now.

Near Kari's House
_{Mentions: None. Direct Dialogue: Drake (@Punished GN)}

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The trees were bathed in an icy electrical glow as the halberd hovered ominously in front of Luna's eyes.

“...Shimatta. (Damn it.)” She mumbled, eyes focused on the tip of the weapon.

”... Take that mask off, stand up against the tree, and keep your hands where I can see them.

“You're coming down with me. We're gonna find out who you are and why you're stalking us. And if you're that Wolf Bastard, you're dead.”

Luna swallowed nervously behind the mask. She knew Drake very well. One wrong move, and he'd have no problem showing her exactly what his abstraction did. Judging from how pissed off he was, it'd be stronger than getting tazed, for sure.

Thoughts passed through her head at lightning speed. She could still try to run. But, given how close that halberd was to her face, and how Drake was watching her like a hawk, it was very unlikely she'd get very far, even if she had some amount of the element of surprise on her side. He didn't know her abstraction, after all.

Not yet, at least.

The moment the mask came off, she was certain this conversation would take a very, very dark turn. He'd put two and two together, know who she was, what she was trying to do.

She had to play this to her advantage. She had to convince him she had pure intentions. Her future in this coven depended on it. If she even had a slim chance of being accepted, she had to comply. Hell, she'd probably have to grovel, and even then, her chances were dicey. But she had to. She had to convince Drake she wasn't the enemy.

Certainly, she wasn't the Wolf they were after.

Everything she was hung on this moment. Her desire to be a part of the coven, instead of watching it from afar like a lonely kid. Everything depended on this moment.

With her throat feeling unfairly parched, Luna slowly slid her hands out from behind her head, keeping them raised, fingers spread in the air. They were empty.

Eyes shifting from the tip of the halberd to Drake's stony face, Luna shifted her weight and got to her feet, back uncomfortably pressed against the rough bark of the spruce.

Her hands moved to her mask, and she grit her teeth, willing herself to speak.

“Okay, okay you got me. Drake, I can explain. I'm not Father Wolf, but-”

Should she come clean or not? With Drake, she knew any bullshit she pulled now would only be marked against her.

She took a deep breath.

“-But I have been spying on you. Not because someone ordered me to. Well, that's partially true. But that's not the point. You're in danger. I know everything. I know about the police raid, I know about the gang fight, and I know tensions are high between you and the 8th Street. I know you keep losing members to a serial killer by the day.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her words becoming more jumbled and rushed by the second. She was suddenly reverted back to how she was ten years ago, the outcast who thought it was wise to mix business with friends.

“I- I know you need help. Please, let me help you. The vision- Kari went to someone. An unknown third party. I can use my connections and find out who. Please, please trust me.”

Her hands moved to hover open-handed in the air, and she sank to her knees, branch swaying underneath her. There was a pleading tremble in her voice.

“Drake, I was a stupid kid all those years ago. I have regretted my actions every day since getting kicked out. I should have never sold coven secrets, and I should have never tried to poach members. If I could do it all over again I'd have never done it. I'd have never hurt you, and hurt what we had built.”

There was a hitch in her throat.

“I have missed my family, my covenmates, every day. Every day I'm plagued by heavy guilt. I can never rest. I daydream of our memories, hoping one day I could live that again.”

Luna was speaking so fervently that her voice broke as wetness entered her eyes. She kneeled there, masked face dropping to stare at Drake's feet. A hand slowly slipped under the mask to wipe hot tears away.

“...Kuso! (Fuck!)” Her teeth under the mask were bared as she cursed quietly.

A few labored breaths, and Luna’s trembling voice continued on.

“If you say ‘leave your old life, leave your business behind’, I'll do it.”

Her head snapped up. “I swear I'll do it! It's blood in, blood out- they'll try to kill me. But I don't care! The coven is back together again, and I want to come home!”

She swallowed again, nearly choking on her tears as she slowly removed the mask. Her glistening eyes stared up at Drake.

“Please… please, Drake. Let me come home.”

---

---

---

The spy took her mask off, and Drake sneered, and he couldn't help it.

It was Luna.

To his memory of the shitshow the Coven became after the Stygian Snake was defeated, Luna was out there selling Coven secrets to the local mafia and trying to rope members of the Coven into the said mafia. Which was... pathetic. Magic or not, what sort of lame-ass mafia tries to recruit literal children. Drake could only laugh to himself about the stupidity of it all, but he was far too angry that Luna betrayed them to a local criminal organization.

However, Luna was pissing him off right now. Big time.

“Okay, okay you got me. Drake, I can explain. I'm not Father Wolf, but - But I have been spying on you. Not because someone ordered me to. Well, that's partially true. But that's not the point. You're in danger. I know everything. I know about the police raid, I know about the gang fight, and I know tensions are high between you and the 8th Street. I know you keep losing members to a serial killer by the day. I- I know you need help. Please, let me help you. The vision- Kari went to someone. An unknown third party. I can use my connections and find out who. Please, please trust me. Drake, I was a stupid kid all those years ago. I have regretted my actions every day since getting kicked out. I should have never sold coven secrets, and I should have never tried to poach members. If I could do it all over again I'd have never done it. I'd have never hurt you, and hurt what we had built. I have missed my family, my covenmates, every day. Every day I'm plagued by heavy guilt. I can never rest. I daydream of our memories, hoping one day I could live that again...Kuso! (Fuck!). If you say ‘leave your old life, leave your business behind’, I'll do it. I swear I'll do it! It's blood in, blood out- they'll try to kill me. But I don't care! The coven is back together again, and I want to come home!”

Every word that came out of Luna's mouth made Drake twist his face up more and more... she could probably feel the cold stare from behind his sunglasses. There was so much bullshit in her speech that Drake wanted to just stab her through the gut just to get things over with. He didn't want to hear anymore... His sense of reason, as marred as it was, triumphed from there, however.

”... Awwww, how sweet,” Drake said in a mocking tone. ”You missed us so much that you decided to stalk us!”

A few chuckles escaped Drake, as his lips twisted into a mocking grin.... Then turned straight. ”Cut the bullshit, Luna. While you're at it, cut the tears, too. You know I'm the last person to fall for that bullshit.”

How stupid does she think Drake is, anyway? Not even the most delusional, gaslighting victim, would fall for Luna's bullshit. She was just trying to manipulate him now that she got caught, probably lamely trying to get a closer look at the Coven so she could report it to her boss (i.e. Father Wolf).

“Please… please, Drake. Let me come home.”

Drake was silent for a moment.

”... If you were really watching us, you'd know there isn't much of a Coven to come back to,” Drake shook his head, before he continued, ”Either way, you have no right to come back trying to act like you're sorry after you've stalked us. We had three meetings, and you attended none of them. And now you want to come back? Really?”

He shook his head, ”It was probably you flapping your gums to the Mafia that got us into this mess in the first place!” Drake couldn't help but laugh at it all as he said, ”You can cry and try to bullshit your way out of this all you want; but the fact is someone is having you spy on us.”

He was silent as he stared her dead on.

”Who is that someone? And I don't want to hear no more about you wanting to come back because that ship has sailed, sweetheart.”

---

---

Linqian's dark eyes moved from Sloane's tight grip on her wrist, to Britney's hand on her shoulder. Did they really think she was going to jump right to violence over this? Fucking hell, she had a short fuse, but she wasn't that bad.

Maybe she was. The way that Sloane was talking, that patronising tone, grated against her. She was fucking treating them like children, as if she’d gotten anywhere. If she was so great she could just go and do it her fucking self. But she was here, with all of them, because she couldn’t. That thought was enough to get herself to calm down again, and ignore it.

She loosened her grip on Sloane's collar, taking a step back.

”Fine. Whatever, nothing happened, it was just Vashti being Vashti. Let's search the basement,” Linqian rolled her eyes. Her voice lowered so only Sloane and Britney could hear her. ”Because I do realise how fucking serious this is. I want to find the bastard that killed Jinhai but I also don’t want my younger brother to lose the only family he has left. I’m not as fucking stupid as you think I am. I’ll work my fucking ass off to figure this shit out.”

She could put aside her dislike for Sloane to get this done, just like she could to accept her money for Jinhai’s funeral. It didn’t mean she liked her or would tolerate any bullshit from her, but she could be in the same space. Fucking work together, even, if it meant finding Father Wolf. She wasn’t stupid enough to fuck that over… when in the right state of mind.

Even if she really didn’t think she was being all that unreasonable for questioning Sloane… whatever. She didn’t care enough to press when they clearly didn’t think Vashti’s words were credible. You saw how crazy she is. Crazy hot more like. Huh. Was she really that desperate right now?

She tilted her head to look back over her shoulder at Britney, still speaking quietly. ”I was just asking. I only hurt people when they say shit like Lynn did… but if you’re concerned it’ll happen, come with us to the basement.”

Linqian then shrugged, turning her whole body more towards the group, and raised her voice.

”Oy, Ken!” Linqian waved to him with a half grin which didn’t reach her eyes. ”Take us to the basement so we can get shit started… Don’t want to keep hanging around till we get fucking arrested- I, for one, can’t afford that. You can get us in without needing to break anything, right?”

She then caught Aryin’s eyes, and gestured for her to come with them. She couldn’t be bothered with words or explanations, Aryin would get it… or she’d come over and punch her. Whichever was fine.

With a forced smile, Linqian turned back to Sloane. ”Let’s go.”

@Punished GN@Atrophy@FernStone@Blizz@AtomicEmperor@NoriWasHere@everyone
Kari Wilson's House

---

Of all of them to answer his question, it was the scruffy latino that reeked of a decay that wasn't entirely represented by appearance, outside of their abnormally tattered clothing. Luca. He was slowly cataloguing their names, both because he was getting tired of using vague descriptors to match to faces, and because it was the courteous thing that he'd been raised to do, once upon a time.

The boy seemed benign enough, but that rot was needling at Clancy's senses as he spoke. He couldn't figrue out why.

”... yeah, she is an asshole. She was an asshole then too. But someone here forcefully adjoined her to an apparition, so you could say there’s more bad blood because of that.”

Something gave him pause, distracting from the assault on his senses. A moment ago, he'd been ready to consider dealing with the girl and her friends in a coven that sounded more like some of the gangbanger crews he'd ran into back in Detroit. That was an option still on the cards, but he considered whether she was acting of her own accord or because other motives were at the wheel. That they wanted to fix some of the curses that had been inflicted upon them was itself a goal he could understood, but it invoked another thought - who here had forcefuly 'adjoined' her?

He had heard the term before, alongside others, and while the exact meaning seemed vague, he could make an educated guess on what it meant. He thought back to what Ashley had told him. How 'Britney' had crossed a line, done what was necessary - and finally made the connection.

We're all monsters, he recalled.

For a moment, his eyes fixated on Britney and crinkled, the few flakes of broken plaster in his hand crunched further into dust as fingers clenched and released. It wasn't his grudge to hold, but that did nothing to improve his view of the girl.

Focus. Luca had mentioned a book. He was thinking back to the waking dream, "Where is the book now?"

If this book had the answers, his line of thinking was that they would take the book, whether or not that meant fighting for it. Maybe it could answer other questions too, such as-

He paused that thought for a moment; over Luca's shoulder, he could see some others approaching. One of them was another familiar face - 'Lynn', was it? He recognised her as the one who'd said she was glad Linqian's brother had been murdered. It had been a vile thing to say, one that had briefly disturbed the mental equilibrium within him as he'd watched from afar - it was too close to home when Clancy was the last one standing out of his own siblings.

And now, here she was again, almost scowling at the same woman she'd needled with the brother comment.

"Mention anything about a brother..." he muttered - barely loud enough that only those stood closest might have heard, 'and I'll remove your jaw' is what he almost wanted to say, but he didn't bother trying to continue the point. It would've been wasted anyway, even if he had been heard; she'd walked past them into another room, and the taller, leaner speaker, Jasper, introduced himsef and the other girl - Lila - before returning to painting something he coudn't make out from this angle.

Outside, a commotion was breaking out - or a drunken display, it wasn't clear. A few had droped in, then moved back onto the lawn. Linqian and Sloane were at each other's throats, talking about the latter's supposed business with Eighth Street, and what he could only assume was bad blood between them. "Idiots," he growled, barely loud enough to be heard, "You can kill each other later."

Luckily, Britney had interceded to nip it in the bud - yet again mentioning this 'Vashti' - and they were back on track. For now.
She tilted her head to look back over her shoulder at Britney, still speaking quietly. The plan, it seeemed, was to look for whatever this Kari had left in the basement - clues to who Father Wolf was, hopefully.

He considered whether it was worth bringing the other things he knew to the table. The encounter with Shayton at the Halloween Festival. The business with Dollhouse. The fact that they claimed to be just as interested in dealing with Father Wolf.

Later. They were too distracted to focus beyond a select few workstreams, and had shown little interest when he'd first told them at the Church.

"The book Luca mentioned, have you seen it? Do you know where it is?" He directed the question towards Sloane, and then - thinking back to something Linqian had said to Britney - closed the gap so he was but a few paces away.

"She won't say anything, again- his voice was barely above a whisper, spoken in a hushed tone for what could've only been privacy's sake, "-about your brother." Neither smile nor scowl creased his features as they approached the basement.

Ken's hand was rising to his lips, hardly waiting for the group to gather before he sucked the noble liquor from the disposable cup, when the Recollection crashed like a wave across the attendents. He saw Kari, and his body reactively wept at the sight of her smile. The way she held Elsa... But she was talking to Lionel about 8th Street... He knew they'd been pestering her for some time, so he never missed a chance to give Emily G. Reed a hard time just like he had at the Festival. He thought maybe he could protect her...

And he was a fool. A fool who was too selfish to stick around and actually help her.

There was a bit about Sloane, but he hadn't realized they were speaking again. Typical. He didn't ever know much; he felt it straining their relationship more and more everytime he came back. She was less and less inclined to let him stick around for long periods, and more insistant that he get back on the road. He hated that, and the feeling like she was rejecting him, even when she apologized later and let him back. He understood, he always thought. He figured she was just stressed about all the things she could see, and he didn't blame her for the strong reactions.
But by that point in his thinking, the world was already coming back to each of them in full color. He felt the tears leaking down his face and the alcohol leaking down his chin as it had been emptied out into his mouth but never swallowed. It was pain again, and guilt. And anger directed at the same woman who thought it was nice and cool to kick down Kari's door.

But he wouldn't bother the group with his words or his fury. Those who were truly together had to stay that way, or they would die one by one in a slow, miserable pattern of weakest to strongest, most opportune to least. And if that dead Kari wasn't their Kari, then she wasn't really dead... But where the fuck was she?
Classic Linqian was yapping away; he hadn't even heard her laying into Sloane the way he wanted to, rather hearing his name specifically. He wiped the wasted alcohol off his face with his sleeve and nodded before making his way to her refridgerator. Opening the freezer compartment, Ken pulled a small wooden box out and popped it open. Within, a row of shimmering, frozen gold coins were laid in a half-cylinder case upon a velvet bed. The stack was about twenty coins deep, and he pulled a single one from the box before sliding it into his utility pack strapped to his waist. He thought about how she'd once used the thing so many times he had to upgrade her carrying case so she could keep more coins safely.

It was dishonorable to keep them laying out, and she seemed to respect whenever he gave her some strange snippit of culture. She was even good about adopting things like that. It was part of what he liked about her so much.
"Alright, alright. Come with me, and be sure to keep an ear out for Brother Drake. Some should stay up here."
And then he made way for the basement door. Some people had already meandered down, and he lightly thumped down the rickety wooden stairs until he was standing in the dusty haze of the basement. He looked at all the shelving units and workshopping spaces; places she used to be able to keep projects and different plot graphs for areas she was exploring or info she was gathering. There were different rooms in various states of finished and unfinished, mostly done with Ken's help as his trade in the Village had been carpenting.
He stepped up to what looked like some sort of filled-in dumbweight elevator door that had been painted over and sealed shut. It was big; probably the size of an old-school television, or one of those wall safes you'd see rich people having in the movies. As the assorted procession filed in behind him, he turned to face them.

"I don't suspect the Murasaki's ancient technique of Dark Drops to have been compromised by our enemies... But that doesn't mean I wouldn't recommend being on guard when I open this. My intuitions aren't what they used to be..."
He waited for everyone who was gathered to ready themselves as they saw fit... Then, with a smooth movement, Ken slipped the coin he'd grabbed into an inconspicuous gap between the plaster of the wall and the actual structure of the dumbweighter. At once, there was a burst of Purple Lux that formed hundreds of Kanji characters scrolling across the surface of the wall. With a slightly wet separating noise. the painted over door to the dumbweighter split in the middle, descending and ascending into slots in the wall.

There was a rush of air, and then it opened fully. Anyone who had traveled with Ken, somewhere between the realms in a place that skirted along the void, the great Master Kai had carved a path in the darkest forest. There, he hid many things, and kept weapons of war and peace. The Forest of Doors: A true Pocket-dimension. And here was a three foot cubed space of it juxtaposed into Kari's wall locked behind a secret door opened with some kind of secret mechanism. The pocket itself was full of possessions and nick-knacks that Kari thought were special.
And like clockwork, the grief-stricken Kenshiro let loose like a man who had truly lost a spouse. Bellowing through tears, his hands immediately reached into the space and started pulling out things to organize them on the table. He started with several hard-covered albums, and opening them would reveal a myriad of incredibly shaped and colored bird feathers. There were also half a dozen glass-topped boxes of the strangest kind of stones and jewels, some luminescent under their own power while others shone in colors that shouldn't exist in the Shimmer. Small albums of picures and drawings that Kari and Ken had shared while she experienced travels of her own.

And pictures of the Coven. Happy and sad days. Memories.
There was also a box labled "Lisa" which contained some of her own personal belongings as well as a diary; probably some kind of safety deposit box agreement. Ken loved how thoughtful Kari could be about her friends...

But panic quickly joined Kenshiro's sniffling. His arms moved away the little privacy cloths, looking around the space thoroughly and at one point hanging his entire body into the hole.
"No... No! NO!-" Ken finally grunted out, pulling himself away from the pocket dimension. "-Her notes! Her notebooks! None of them are here, and the seal wasn't tampered with, there were no breaks in the scripture: Nothing! And her... Her fucking books aren't-"
In a fit of rage, Kenshiro's fist hauled back and drove itself through the drywall above the door. When he did so, the pocket dimension began to flicker in and out of existence until all that remained was a smooth, blank wall behind false doors. His hand pulling out of the wall caused half a dozen of those same coins to fall from the spot he punched.
"-there... The books weren't fucking in there..."

Ken's hands came up and gripped at his head. Reeling, he spun and dropped his hands to the table, staring at the hundreds of little bits of otherworldly materials he'd brought back for Kari to catalogue and retrace whenever she wanted. Like her own exploratory atlas. His legs gave out, and on his knees he once again wept in opposition to being helpful. Frankly, he didn't feel helpful. He felt lost and in agony, and he wanted to make it the problem of those who'd done this, but he had no way of directing such aggression.

It was all just pain and loneliness again.

"Fuck!"

---

The recollection happened and… Left Stormy confused. Thus far, they were only having these in their dreams. It was akin to Anya’s magic, insofar as there was information to be shared. But this one was waking. Kari had some sort of dealing with 8th Street, something she wanted no part in apparently. Honestly it was hard to blame her. Stormy could guess that they wanted her for her knowledge gathering Lux, assuming she hadn’t done anything crazy like severing. But that was put out of Stormy’s mind when he hear Sully shouting about Drake running down a stalker. He noticed Tayla and Sully talking, after Tayla had put on those headphones.

Odd. Stormy waited a moment, and then made his mind up once Sully started passing out shots from the Chalice. ”I’m going to go and back him up. Too many cooks in that kitchen as it is,” he nodded to the house. ”Mind yourselves.”

---

Stormy followed the voices in the distance, one he could easily recognize as Drake. He could pinpoint them by the glow of his friend’s electrical weapon brandished in the open. He managed to catch the very end of their conversation, hearing Drake mentioning someone coming back to the coven- Who the hell could that be? For Drake to be chewing them out like that, it must’ve been someone shitty. Whoever they were, both they and Drake were treated to the sight of Stormy stepping forward with a shield hanging off of his arm, the Stoic Shell. A glowing green tower shield of magic energy that stood at 4 and a half feet tall, and 20 inches wide.

Stormy fixed a calm, yet firm gaze on their stalker… Yeah, that tracked.

”Whatever you’re about to do, I’d suggest thinking heavily on your options. You aren’t welcome around here, Tsukino.” Just like Britney, he advocated for her getting removed when they were young.

”We have no interest in dealing with your mafia.” If it really came down to it, Stormy could always hurl a shield up at Drake to deflect a projectile like some shit from a bad movie.

---

Amara gleaned absolutely nothing from the recollection.

The unfortunate truth was that Amara couldn’t remember Kari Wilson from Shimmer. The Army replaced that memory with one from another world, probably Glint or Flare, where Kari was relatively useless. She had cool magic, but didn’t do much. And Amara sure as hell didn’t know which phantom to ask, since that was like finding one grain of sand in particular on a beach.

So she put it in the back of her mind, and didn’t even try to think on it. Ken cracked a joke and Sully started running a shot line. Amara wasn’t entire disappointed, but she didn’t think now was the time. Rather, Amara just followed Ken and the others down into the basement. It felt weird being here, she had this nagging feeling that she should’ve remembered this stuff. Maybe if she went through the books she wrote, she could find some memory of her and Kari being familiar.

Maybe.

All this stuff told Amara that whoever Kari was, she must’ve been talented. Capably. It was a whole workshop, so why weren’t her memories strong enough? Amara appreciated people who were crafty enough to have workshops, and Kari was one of them… Yet she was a blank.

Amara didn’t want to say that out loud, it wouldn’t be right. It would be admitting she wasn’t going to be useful around the coven, admitting that the Army was adjoined to more than just her soul. Instead, she paid attention to Ken sliding in a coin between the seams of a wall, and opening up a pocket dimension. He always was a damn good Adept.

She found her hand resting near her gun under her jacket when it opened, but it dropped back down in disappointment when Ken started tearing through everything inside. Ken was unstable now, and that meant he’d need a minute to recenter. Quickly, Amara jumped on that.

”Ken, listen to me, man. We need you collected, okay?” She asked, stern but gentle like she was taking to someone on the edge of a cliff. ”Wherever her things went, this tells us the culprit can possibly get into pocket dimensions on their own. Silver linings.”

Focus. Focus. Focus. Complete the mission.

”Maybe we can use what got left behind. I’m going upstairs to look around, see if there’s anything telling that way. In the meantime, get your thoughts in order. Put that ninja discipline to use,” Amara offered before turning to the stairs. ”And think about why someone would go for her notes and not the rest of the things in there. Anyone coming with me, come with.”

Someone had been here, this house had been compromised. It could’ve been weeks ago, or it could’ve been an hour ago. Knowing that, Amara crept up to the main floor of the house, gun drawn, and slowly crept up the stairs to the top floor. If there was a fight, she’d be ready.

Near Kari's House
_{Mentions: None. Direct Dialogue: Drake (@Punished GN), Stormy (@Blizz)}

---

---

---

---

”Who is that someone? And I don't want to hear no more about you wanting to come back because that ship has sailed, sweetheart.”

“You can't change who you are, little capo.” The White Suit crooned in her head.

“Urusai. (Shut up.) He doesn't mean it.”

“You can lie to yourself all you like. I won't stop you.”

“I just have to approach this differently.”

“Try to convince them you weren't stalking.”

“I'm good at bullshitting, but Drake already has his lie detectors on. My bad habits have dug my grave with him.”

“So what will you do?”

“I'm not giving up.”

“And his question?”

Luna stayed there kneeling on the branch for a moment. The tears had evaporated, but something inside her still felt crushed.

She put it all on the line there. But…

One who cried wolf was never listened to. One who broke the trust given to them, like a shattered glass, was stuck grasping at pieces. Unmendable.

Or was it?

“The rest of the coven will listen to me. I have to believe in that.” Her chin jutted out stubbornly.

“You can't change who you are.”

“Then… I'll burn down the coven to feel it's warmth.”

“Will you really?”

“I'll do what I have to.”

“Your denial is blinding you.”

“Your lack of faith is blinding you, Don.”

“It's over, trust me.”

Luna gritted her teeth together, her face twisting up as she gripped her temples. She spoke aloud, sharply. “Urusai! (Shut up!)”

She stood and pointed an angry finger at Drake. “I'm just trying to help you. Do you know how daunting it is to even try showing my face around those I've respected and missed for ten years?! I was building up my courage to face you. I never meant anything malicious by spying!”

Her hand sliced the air in universal ‘no’ sign before balling into fists.“I even offered to make it up to you, and you don't believe me? That's not fair! You're not even giving me a chance!”

Her arms crossed her chest, and she turned away, as much as she could on the narrow branch.

“I'm not telling you anything else!”

That's when Stormy approached the tree from below.

”Whatever you’re about to do, I’d suggest thinking heavily on your options. You aren’t welcome around here, Tsukino.

“We have no interest in dealing with your mafia.”

“Fuzakeruna. (Don't mess with me.) You're the one who destroyed your own covenmate - don't talk to me about being ‘welcome’. Have you even tried talking to Layla again?

“Yeah, I know everything. I know how you tortured her and made her want to kill herself to make the pain stop. You can paint me as the villain all you want, but I see through your bullshit, kusogaki. (Unpleasant brat.)”

Luna started getting agitated, light streaming from her fingertips.

“Maybe I should really teach you how to be someone's friend, huh?”

---

Kari's House
_{Mentions: Direct Dialogue: Aryin (@NoriWasHere) Ken (@AtomicEmperor), everyone at the house}

---

---

---

---

"It wasn't your friend. One dead host was never going to be enough. Believe me, you're better off without-”

Layla's eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms in front of her.

The kid was preaching to her about Void? He clearly didn't understand. Void would have never hurt her. Like, really hurt her. He had his reasons. And he gave her strength. Strength she needed to grab her destiny, to be free of her curse.

Now? She sure wasn't free. But the medicine made it feel like Mr. Riil wasn't the end of the world.

”Yes, a toast for everyone lost to Father Wolf: Elsa, Lionel, Kura, Samantha, Simone… And Alizee, too. She was one of the best of us, all negatives aside.”

Layla perked up a bit, some of the darkness leaving her face at the mention of Alizée. The girl Layla had replaced, once upon a time.

Did Britney really mean what she said?

She moved closer to the circle forming around Sully, eyes glancing down at Aislin. Wait, when had Aislin gotten there?

”You were so brave for coming to my defense, Aislin. I could’ve taken him out if he didn’t throw me back to the city from the island.”

Aislin giggled, a bit of a head rush making her words drawn out. “I'd do it again. George is a meanie. Though I just ended up hurting myself…”

Aislin made a crumpled face at Aryin’s bruises. “That's gotta hurt.”

”George is very strong..”

That was when Britney leveled a lethal gaze at Aislin.

”Aislin, put that thing away. There's a kid here, and we got shit to do.”

Aislin's face flushed with embarrassment, and she avoided Britney's gaze. Layla's head tilted as she watched. Was Aislin mad at Britney for something?

At least Britney was Layla's friend. Layla puffed her chest out a bit. Yes, she had the best of friends.

"I'm almost positive we're being watched from those trees by someone. Just a feeling."

“Oh shit! Is it your stalker?”

Aislin's eyes bugged out. “Taaaaayla? You have a stalker?” Her gaze shifted to Sully. ”Is this what you were talking about?

That was when the recollection hit, jarring Layla and Aislin. Recollection or not, it didn't stop the boys getting all excited over a possible spy.

“Get inside. We got this motherfucker! AY, DRAKE, GET HIS BITCH ASS MAN! GO, GO, GO!”

Layla and Aislin blinked in unison, staring as Sully ran out the door after Drake, headed to the trees. Layla's frown grew, before she took a seat beside Aislin.

“Sis, hook me up.”

Aislin gave Layla a quizzical look. “You sure? I don't think you ever had this before…”

Layla simply held out her hands, and Aislin hesitated before passing over the bong.

”Oy, Ken! Take us to the basement so we can get shit started… Don’t want to keep hanging around till we get fucking arrested- I, for one, can’t afford that. You can get us in without needing to break anything, right?”

White Linqian spoke, Layla burned the rest of the bowl, taking the hits meant for others. Aislin's face contorted into panicked surprise.

“Dude, that's waaaay too much.”

Layla coughed, passing the bong back. She was quiet for a long moment, eyes squeezed shut, before she breathed a long, relaxed sigh.

“That feels better.”

“How do you, uh, feel?”

“Like my head is somewhere in the attic. Real airy like.”

Aislin laughed, pouring out the water from the bong in the sink and placing the bong back in her bag. She offered a hand to Layla, winking. “You're gonna need some help up, I think.”

“I'm fi-” Layla tried getting up, before she swayed and flopped back down.“Oh.”

Ailsin giggled again, helping Layla to her feet and guiding her to the basement door. She used her animation to open it, and it wriggled to the side. The staircase stretched down for what seemed like forever.

“I… got a serious case of vertigo.” Layla stated, looking at the stairs with eyes half closed.

“Ahhhh, you'll be fine. I'll hold you.” Aislin smirked. “If you take it slow, your head and your body stay connected. Go too fast, and your mind just fliiiies away.”

Layla nodded vigorously. “I get you.”

“You're both stoned out of your mind.” Mr. Riil chimed in her head.

“Heyyy youuu. I do what I want.” Layla waved at the wall, trying to shoo Mr. Riil's voice away.

“Who are you talking too?”

“I can hear voices in my head.”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah that's pretty normal.”

They were halfway down the steps when Layla squeezed on Aislin's arm.“I got it!”

“What, what is it?”

“Is Lionel dead?”

“I… think so, yeah.”

“Dang. He knew what Kari was talking about when she said she went to ‘them’, right?”

“Riiiight…?”

“Should we trespass Lionel's house too?”

“Duuuude… you're a genius.”

“I knooooww.”

And their conversations continued nonsensically as they made it to the bottom of the basement steps. Aislin turned her head back to the light filtering down from the top of the staircase.

“Ken? Linqian? Sloane? You coming?”

"Alright, alright. Come with me, and be sure to keep an ear out for Brother Drake. Some should stay up here.”

Aislin smiled, gently pulling Layla to the side as Ken made his way down the steps to lead the group in prayer. Well, not prayer, but he seemed to know his way around Kari's home the best.

Aislin and Layla watched on as Ken stuck a coin in the plaster, opening a strange looking pocket dimension.

“Whoa.”

Layla, rather mellowed out now, tugged on Aislin's sleeve, pointing towards the pocket dimension.“Good place to hide your stuff?”

“My stuff?”

“Weed.”

“Oh. Yeah, yeah.”

They both jumped a bit when Ken burst into tears again, staring as he pulled stuff out of the pocket. Layla immediately went for one of the jewelry boxes, picking out one of the glowing stones and just staring at it.

_”Whoa.

Aislin, however, went to the side of Ken placing a hand on his back. “Hey, hey relax, buddy.”

That was when Ken punched the wall, causing Aislin to move back a bit, startled.

"-there... The books weren't fucking in there..."

Layla dropped the stone, her focus snapping to Ken as he swore aloud, falling to his knees. She felt like she was walking through a haze as she moved to the other side of the table, standing beside Aislin. Instead of staring at Ken's broken face, she opted to stare into the empty pocket dimension as it disappeared.

“I'll share the same idea that I did with Aislin. Lionel knew something. We can trash his place too.”

Aislin remained hopeful. “We can't give up on Kari. Maybe there's something useful in her albums.”

Layla shook her head. “No, siiiis. Face it, Father Wolf is one step ahead of us. He has been from the start.”

Aislin blew up her cheeks, determined. “No, there has to be something Father Wolf missed. Something that can help us.”

Layla just shrugged, and started staring at the shiny rocks on the table again.

”Whatever."

---

Accusing Stormy of being that bad guy here was like throwing dead wood onto a bonfire. Not the best way to de-escalate a situation. Tsukino surely had tricks up her sleeves, literally and figuratively if his memory served him well. She was an Aberrant, and Stormy loved facing Aberrants. "If you know about that business," he started. "Then you understand that instigating anything against us means entangling yourself in things that aren't worth your time or energy." His face was stone cold, stoicism drowning out the annoyance he felt at her threats.

“Maybe I should really teach you how to be someone's friend, huh?”

"Maybe you should stop and ask yourself if you want that," he retorted, bluntly. "We have enough to worry about as it is, you have a poor reputation in this coven. If you start this, neither of us will be responsible for what the rest of the coven decides they want to do with you."

Stormy tightened his grip on his shield, and his free hand twitched slightly. She was too far up for him to scare off with Consecration, but maybe he could knock her off the branch. Or throw a rock up there with the aura imbued. Whatever happened, he had a feeling he couldn't make the first move.

"But if you back down, I'm sure we can do this without violence."

---

---

---

”Because I do realise how fucking serious this is. I want to find the bastard that killed Jinhai but I also don’t want my younger brother to lose the only family he has left. I’m not as fucking stupid as you think I am. I’ll work my fucking ass off to figure this shit out.”

”... I don't think you're stupid.”

A lie that Britney told Linqian, thankful that she decided to back down when pressed on the subject. It would be stupid to believe a word out of a crazy woman's mouth! Especially one that was about to turn the Halloween Festival into a battleground (and from what she heard, a fight did break out there). However, Britney just shook her head; Linqian pressed the group to head into the basement already where this secret vault was, and Britney couldn't help but agree. She wanted to get the hell out of there as fast as possible before either the PRA showed up or the House of Cards or 8th Street - at least the PRA could be reasoned with to some limited capacity.

"I'll keep watch up here," Auri said with a nod of her head, holding the Butterfly Staff firmly against the ground with one hand.

As instructed, Kenshiro led the group to Kari's basement, which was dusty and full of spiderwebs. The dust had taken over the place because it had not been maintained since Kari's death. Britney loudly sneezed and then chuckled.

”Bless you,” Adora said, as she walked down the stairs with her arms crossed.

”... Thank you, it's just a little dusty down here.” Britney replied.

However, Kenshiro led them to an... elevator door? It was painted over, and rickety. Britney laughed as it was obvious some time of magic was responsible for this.

"I don't suspect the Murasaki's ancient technique of Dark Drops to have been compromised by our enemies... But that doesn't mean I wouldn't recommend being on guard when I open this. My intuitions aren't what they used to be..."

Britney watched on as Kenshiro pulled out a coin and activated the spell... she watched in awe as Kanji symbols scrawled their way across the walls as the door split open to reveal this pocket dimension. Kenshiro was definitely a talented Adept, and she wished that he had returned sooner! They could have used him in sealing the Void Heart, and maybe things would have gone a lot smoother. Britney was one of the few inside, and then she looked around, glancing at the various items that Kari held dear and wanted to keep hidden from the world of the Blind. It would definitely raise a few alarms if she had guests over and they stumbled into here!

”Brit...” Adora said, and Britney turned her head towards Adora. She was holding a peculiar picture with one hand, and a fist to her mouth in the other. In concern, Britney walked over and asked,

”What's wrong-” Britney began, before she looked down at the picture and went. ”... Oh.”

It was obviously an artwork piece that Kari had either drawn or commissioned (Britney couldn't remember if Kari could draw or not) of herself, Ella Brooks, Saskia Otten, and Lisa Turner. Not just any picture, but of the four of them dressed up as "Magical Girls" straight out of an anime... If Britney recalled correctly, Kari was really close to Ella, Saskia, and Lisa in the Old Coven, and she took their respective deaths really hard.

”I... need a moment...” Adora exhaled, sitting down in the corner. Taking deep breaths, as she silently counted in the corner. Britney put the picture back and watched over Adora, as another person had a breakdown...

"No... No! NO!-"

Britney whipped her head over to Kenshiro.

"-Her notes! Her notebooks! None of them are here, and the seal wasn't tampered with, there were no breaks in the scripture: Nothing! And her... Her fucking books aren't - there... The books weren't fucking in there..."

"Fuck!"

So, Kari's notes, which probably were the key to all of this, were all missing. Unfortunate. It was enough to make Kenshiro break down further—he obviously had feelings for Kari and the fact that her notes, her prize possession, were gone. Britney sighed, as it turned out they had accomplished nothing yet again, as they still had no idea who Father Wolf was, where he went, or if Kari even had anything to do with it all (Despite the fact that Britney believed that Kari has something to do with it, she was going to keep her mind open). Amara tried to reassure him, and so did Aislin (Layla didn't help much at all), but the two of them were latching onto the idea that Father Wolf was responsible.

Britney walked over and squatted down, picking up the coins and forming a neat stack in the palm of her hands. She got up and presented them back to Ken.

”Look, Ken,” Britney began. ”I know things look rough right now, but we have to remain positive. We have to remain hopeful. I'm not latching onto the idea that Father Wolf is the one who is responsible, but we need to keep it together. I know you had feelings for Kari, but if we fall apart now, it's over. If there's a will, there's a way, and there has to be something here that will give us a clue on what happened to Kari.”

Or what Kari did. Britney internally added that she's keeping her suspicion that Kari is either working for or is Father Wolf to herself. Now wouldn't be the best time to voice it anyway.

“I'll share the same idea that I did with Aislin. Lionel knew something. We can trash his place too.”

Britney winced, pausing for a moment before she answered.

”One, we're not trashing anyone's place,” Britney began. ”And two, Lionel ran his own paranormal investigation agency with an office and everything! I know he was investigating the murders before he was...”

Britney then coughed.

”But, let's give the entire house a good sweep... That Recollection tells me that somebody is trying to tell us something. And I'm hoping it doesn't end with us barking up 8th Street's tree...”

---

---

---

“I'm just trying to help you. Do you know how daunting it is to even try showing my face around those I've respected and missed for ten years?! I was building up my courage to face you. I never meant anything malicious by spying! I even offered to make it up to you, and you don't believe me? That's not fair! You're not even giving me a chance!”

Thankfully, Drake wasn't Auri.

Drake didn't believe in the power of butterflies or friendship or anything else. He was stern, unmoving, and stubborn, and this was likely one of the few times he needed to be. He rolled his eyes as Luna lamely tried tapdancing around Drake's question and more lame-ass attempts to manipulate him. Drake had a question. And one question alone.

”You want to try and make amends now that you got caught, sweetheart. I'm looking at the facts here: You were following us for a reason. Don't try and dodge the question!” Drake shook his head. Still keeping the Halbred level with Luna's face. ”You want to make amends so badly? Stop bullshitting and tell me who you are working for! I'm starting to think you got something to do with that Wolf Bastard...”

He narrowed his eyes.

”... Whatever you’re about to do, I’d suggest thinking heavily on your options. You aren’t welcome around here, Tsukino.” We have no interest in dealing with your mafia.”

Stormy's voice boomed from below, Drake almost instinctually turned his head towards Stormy, but he stopped himself. He had to keep his eyes on this snake. This bitch was definitely going to try something if Drake didn't keep his eye on her - he didn't even feel comfortable blinking! Though, he felt confident with Stormy backing him up, he wasn't too good on these high mobility confrontations that Drake excelled in... and if Drake recalled correctly, Luna could fly.

Wonder if she could outrun lightning now.

“Fuzakeruna. (Don't mess with me.) You're the one who destroyed your own covenmate - don't talk to me about being ‘welcome’. Have you even tried talking to Layla again? Yeah, I know everything. I know how you tortured her and made her want to kill herself to make the pain stop. You can paint me as the villain all you want, but I see through your bullshit, kusogaki. (Unpleasant brat.)” Maybe I should really teach you how to be someone's friend, huh?”

"If you know about that business," he started. "Then you understand that instigating anything against us means entangling yourself in things that aren't worth your time or energy. Maybe you should stop and ask yourself if you want that. We have enough to worry about as it is, you have a poor reputation in this coven. If you start this, neither of us will be responsible for what the rest of the coven decides they want to do with you."

This. Is. Going. FUCKING. Nowhere. Drake internally seethed as Luna and Stormy went back and forth. If his hands weren't occupied being the spear and shield at the same time, he would had facepalmed by the idiocy of this all. It was obvious that Luna didn't have any plan in case she got caught by the Coven... Maybe her boss should have sent someone else. There was that tiny part of him that wondered if Luna was even with Father Wolf - he seemed very competent and Luna, so far... was not. This was a waste of time, and Luna was obviously stalling for backup.

Luna knew something. And she obviously wasn't going to tell them.

Well, that just means it's time to play hard ball.

"... But if you back down, I'm sure we can do this without violence."

”Sorry, Stormy...” Drake said to Stormy, as the spear that he had disappeared as he cocked his hand back behind him. He quickly created his Electric Flail, a lengthy chain with a mace, and swung it at Luna's leg. However, he overshot it a bit as he aimed for her leg and intended for the chain to wrap around her and electrocute the fuck out of her. Hopefully, it would just stun her as intended, and not kill her.

”... IF SHE FALLS, CATCH HER!” Drake shouted at Stormy.

---

---

It was Britney Williams of all people to come to Sloane’s aid, but it was ultimately Linqian that ended up deescalating everything. Linqian pulled her hand away from Sloane’s collar and slipped herself free from her grip. This had allowed Sloane to use her now free hand to cover her own mouth and pinch it shut tight. Sloane could feel her teeth tightly pressed and her jaw painfully locked up as her grip crushed her lips together. Yet the pain was worth it because it kept her from snapping off an unneeded retort at Britney about how she was the one responsible for Vashti being “crazy’. It would ultimately lead to no good for Sloane, and it was distracting from the more pressing point at hand. Even Linqian could see that and she was, despite her own claims, an idiot.

Stop it, give her a break.

Sloane looked at the ground, her eyes pulled down by a twist of guilt. She actually believed Linqian when she said that she was serious, so why had Linqian wasted their time? Other people were so frustrating to deal with. If Sloane had known it was going to go like this, she would’ve broken in by herself before the group had gotten here. Her hand over her mouth began to tremble. She quickly shoved her hands in her pocket, her expression set to its typical neutral-nothingness as she began to follow Ken and the others towards the basement.

"The book Luca mentioned, have you seen it? Do you know where it is?" asked Clancy.

“No,” said Sloane more sharply than she had intended, actually sounding as if she had been offended. Why would she know? Was he now accusing her of something? She paused and then reconsidered. The question could’ve just been a question. She turned to Clancy and offered him a little more. “But Coven naming conventions aren’t too creative. They squat in a mansion over on 8th Street.”

And then, before he got any ideas and scampered off after that supposed book without them she quickly added, “But you can’t just break in.”

The group reached the basement, the stench of reefer causing Sloane to wrinkle her nose. Sloane watched with mild bemusement as Kenshiro fed a coin into a dumbwaiter and unlocked some kind of dimensional vault. She felt a momentary twinge of jealousy that no beau of hers had lovingly made her a magical vault, but the feeling went away when Ken revealed that it was missing Kari’s notes. Of course while it would be strangely cathartic if there had been a break-in it was too soon to immediately jump to conclusion, despite Ken’s caterwauling. Kari could’ve just taken them out and—

A “tch!” escaped from Sloane as Ken hypocritically punched a hole in some drywall. Sure, she made a little itsy bitsy dent and suddenly she’s public enemy number one, but he punched a hole in a goddamn wall and they were supposed to feel bad for him? Stupid. She hung her head and her shoulder shook as she tried to hold in laughter as the coins, their consolation prize for time well wasted, loudly clattered to the ground. The staggered and muffled escapes of air from strangled chuckles almost sounded like quiet sobbing. They stopped almost as soon as they were joined by Ken’s weeping, his unabashed emotions killing the humor she had found in the situation as she began to fill with unease. She jumped when he shouted.

“Maybe they’re…” she started quietly. No, screw this. She didn’t have the mental bandwidth to deal with Ken having a breakdown every time he crossed a threshold. Plus, the way everybody was gently trying to comfort him made her skin crawl. Sloane had to get out of here. She gave Anya a parting eyeroll to let her know that she was going to go back upstairs, but Sloane didn’t head up right away. Instead, she walked up about three steps and paused, spacing out time to allow herself to avoid going up with Amara. That’s when she overheard Britney,”...And I'm hoping it doesn't end with us barking up 8th Street's tree.”

“You’re the psychopath who planted that tree!” came a parting voice from the stairs, punctuated by the slamming of a basement door.

---

---

“Aww, man…”

Sully didn’t know what he was more tired of: getting his jacket dirty or living other people’s memories. He guessed there was something nice about seeing Elsa and Kari again, even if it was in a weird voyeuristic fugue state. Meanwhile, there was never a brightside to grass stains. He felt a hand pat him on his back as Tayla whispered to him to keep quiet about her stalker Dean. Of course the asshole had an asshole name like Dean. He didn’t fully understand why Tayla would want the Coven to not know about Dean. He was harassing one of their own. Two, actually. Sully was essentially being stalked in Tayla’s place. Everybody should be on the lookout for the guy. Hell, he could’ve been Father Wolf.

Sully pushed himself up. Normally he was for respecting someone’s choice, but sometimes a person needed to be told that the choice they had made was the stupid one like wearing socks with sandals or mixing a top shelf bottle of scotch with diet soda. He turned to Tayla as he struggled to untangle his backpack from his legs, his eyes watery only in part to having bounced his face off the ground.

“Look girl I think this is one of those times were you just gotta aaaaand, okay, the headphones are on. Okay, I can take a-oH RIGHT, DRAKE!”

Sully jumped to his feet, nearly tripping again, and then righted himself. If they got Dean now then they wouldn’t have to do any airing out of dirty laundry. He began tough-guy stomping after Drake and Stormy, crunching a pair of binoculars beneath his feet, as he pushed up his sleeves. Right. It was time for the jock squad to take down this psycho biker. Sully rolled his shoulders and threw a few wild punches in the air that would make Stormy and Leon shake their heads at his form as he bumbled through the brush.

He overheard Drake and Stormy already confronting the Chosen One’s newest archenemy, Dickhead Dean, his voice carrying a lot less bass in it than Sully remembered. Whatever. He had been drunk. Maybe he was misremembering.

“I’m here, fellas. Hope you saved some from ol’ Sully. Let’s whoop this trick…uh…”

Okay Sully had been pretty blitzed the other night but he was pretty confident that Dean was not a young, pale Japanese woman who had also helped them save the world. Sully hadn’t been around when Luna’s little game of Mafia got a little too real, so he really didn’t understand what all the shouting back and forth was about. Maybe Stormy and Drake didn’t remember Luna? Stormy had probably been hit in his head too many times since then and Drake was, well, Drake was never the brightest crayon in the toolshed. No worries. Ol’ Sully could easily patch out what was certainly just a misunderstanding.

“What the hell, dude!?” yelled Sully as Drake swung an electric mace at Luna. Holy shit he was trying to kill her. It had happened. Sully’s worst fear. The text message had been a warning after all.

Drake had finally snapped!

“Drake, stop! You’re better than this, man!” shouted Sully, hefting the Chalice in his hand as if he was readying himself to chuck it at his best bro’s head to knock some sense into him. “Don’t just become another statistic. Stormy, what the fuck. Stop him!”

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That had been unnecessary. Sloane moved away from the basement with the hurried footsteps of a criminal leaving the scene, her hands massaging her temples in a pitiful attempt to quell a head splitting migraine. She sharply turned her head at the sight of Auri, unable to even bear to make eye contact with the woman who had put together such a sad pack of individuals—Sloane no exception herself. Sloane muttered inaudible complaints to herself about everyone and anyone. Her underarms were cold with sweat and it felt like she had swallowed a handful of sewing pins. When was the last time she had taken a breath?

She needed to be alone. Outside, the people still on the porch would see a dark figure poke its head out and then quickly retreat inside. Sloane moved up the stairs in a failed attempt to make it seem like she was not fleeing, her shaking hand grabbing at the bannister to keep herself from tumbling down. She froze at the sight of Amara ahead of her, the sight of a drawn gun taking her doubled heartbeat and quadrupling it, and twisted to go downstairs until she heard voices. She’d take a bullet over the mob. Sloane drifted past Amara, full body bristling as she looked back, eyes darting between the gun and Amara, no effort to hide a look of “what the fuck” on Sloane’s face. Sloane slipped into a room with her eyes closed, shut the door behind her, and locked it.

For the first time since coming out of the basement she exhaled the stagnant cellar air and breathed in the sweet tasting air of solitude. No, wait. She smacked her lips. The taste was wrong. She opened her eyes, jolted, and let out a quiet “fuck” as she saw Lynn sitting on the bed, staring directly at Sloane, tainting the air she had wanted to breathe. Sloane waved her hand at Lynn and tried to gauge a reaction, the glazed over look in the woman’s eye telling Sloane that Lynn was anywhere but there. Sloane sighed. It was probably the best she would get.

Sloane sank to the floor with her back against the door, staring across the room at Lynn, and controlled her breathing: in two three four - out two three four. Better. Not good, but better. She nervously picked at a piece of the carpet, teasing out of the fabric with her fingernails.

“You set a bad example. We’re supposed to be searching the house, not sitting around doing nothing. Really, I can’t believe how unhelpful you’re being. This is a group effort. You think you’d at the very least tolerate being in the same room with them. Can’t even make it through a single meeting without starting a fight,” said Sloane softly, uncertain if she was even addressing Lynn. She pulled her knees up to her chest in a cradle and rested her head on her knee. “You’re such an embarrassment. Why would they even invite you? If we accomplish nothing again it’s all your fault.”

Near Kari's House
_{Mentions: None. Direct Dialogue: Drake (@Punished GN), Stormy (@Blizz)}

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”Stop bullshitting and tell me who you are working for! I'm starting to think you got something to do with that Wolf Bastard...”

“I have nothing to do with the Wolf!” Luna bit out.“I'm trying to help you!”

"You have a poor reputation in this coven. If you start this, neither of us will be responsible for what the rest of the coven decides they want to do with you."

“Keh…” Luna grunted under her breath. Her eyes stared wide at Stormy, before contorting into a compromised scowl.“Damn you, Stormy. You're unimaginably cruel.”

Stormy gave her something she hadn't dared to feel for years. Something that she had shoved down into the depths of the man-made darkness within her. Something that she daren't entertain. Something that she just couldn't risk.

Hope. Blind and unrequited hope.

But just as the light faded from her fingertips, Drake made his move.

“AHH!”

Pain coursed through her body as the flail connected, wrapping around her ankle. The spasms were quick, causing her to convulse.

She hissed, light building under her fingertips.

She could feel it. She was slipping. Her weight was shifting to the side, and the ground would welcome her. But she thought through the pain, just like she had thought through the the torture Mother Cards had inflicted to ‘mature’ her.

With all her remaining will, she moved through the pain, outstretching her fingers. She reached out and gripped the light construct. Each piece slid in together, gathering shape. The magazine, the grip, the hammer. She felt her finger move over the freshly formed trigger, wrapped in the guard, and the barrel and muzzle fell into place. It felt hot under her hand, ready to enact her will.

Her iron will.

She gripped it, timing her spasms. As her arm jolted, she re-calculated the trajectory.

Drake would see it.

Her eyes burning bright down the sight of the pistol, perfectly lined up in a split second at his head. The absolute fury, the calculated cold precision of a killer. It was a simple act, in that moment, to pull the trigger. An action that would send a bullet made of light through his eyes.

That moment hung in the air for what felt like an eternity. That bloodthirsty gaze. The iron sights.

Before something broke in Luna, and she looked, really looked at Drake.

Time moved forward again, and she slipped off the branch, plummeting to the ground as the gun construct splintered into shards of light.

She had killed before. But she couldn't kill Drake. She couldn't kill the coven.

Mother Cards always had contingency plans in case anything ever happened. But Luna was going against her Mother's words in that moment. The panic button wrapped around her neck peeked out from under her dress as she fell.

No. In that moment, Luna wanted to get caught.

Dark spots grew in her vision as the electricity took its course, and she faded in and out of consciousness as she fell. From somewhere outside her body, she heard Drake's voice.

Her eyes shut.

This was her coven.

Despite the pain, she was home.

Aryin did not need much more than what Linqian gave her to understand that she’d much rather spend her time back with those who made the first coven so special. She turned on her heel and followed Linqian, turning her back on the shit show that was developing outside the house. She did not remember Luna well, but what she did was bad news. Poaching members to join a literal mafia as kids. Kids! What use were kids in a mafia? Sure, they all had one power or another but that did not explain why they would enlist literal children into their evil fucking schemes. Aryin hoped that Drake, and Stormy, would be able to take care of her. She did not remember Luna’s power but she knew Drake well, and she knew that Drake was more than capable of taking care of a little problem like that. Aryin did wish she could join the fight but they were at this house for a reason, and that reason trumped her desire to cave in a traitor's skull.

”Thanks,” Aryin whispered to Linqian as she rushed to her side, before she punched her in the shoulder, ”what a fucking shit show already. Have all the meetings been like this?”

Aryin followed Linqian’s lead down to the basement. It seemed the group was finally on the cusp of finding yet another clue. Despite their idiotic nature, the coven was at least good enough at following a trail. Ken had some pocket dimension stuff going on that was over Aryin’s paygrade, and mental load. Sure, the dimension hoppers were a vital part of the coven’s strength but it was still very hard for Aryin to wrap their head around the idea of other dimensions and just how accessible they were. If Aryin had a power like that they would end up being much more of a liability than an asset. She much preferred her own power, a power to be her true self whenever she wanted and a power that allowed her to fight side by side with the most important people to her in the coven.

Ken’s sudden outburst pulled her mind from her thoughts and she started to pay attention again. Okay, so Aryin could tell that Ken was emotional. Cool, that was good. From what he was saying it sounds like someone took her diaries, and other notes, from a place only Kari and Ken truly knew about. That was suspicious. Aryin looked to Linqian with a questioning look. How would anyone know to look into a specifically placed pocket dimension for a very specific object, if they did not already know that the objects were already there? Still, Aryin tried to push the thought from her mind. Ken was in a rough spot at the discovery of the missing items. She could voice her concerns later to the group. Yet the more she held her tongue the more she felt the urge to blurt out her suspicions. Aryin needed to get her thoughts out of her mind, and who better than her good friend Linqian? Aryin punched her in he shoulder again, before she motioned for Linqian to follow her to a wall away from the vast majority of the group.

”Linqian,” Aryin whispered softly enough that only her friend should be able to hear, ”how would Father Wolf know where to find those items? Unless,” Aryin eyes flashed wide as she shot them back to Ken, ”unless they knew where they were to start with. What if Kari has something to do with our murders?”

Aryin took a quick look at Ken and the group before she watched Sloane leave the basement. Would Kari be capable of such a thing? Kari was always one of the kindest members of the Coven, and falling to these lows felt out of character for the young girl she remembers from a decade prior. Yet the more she thought about it the more it made sense. Why would Kari’s body be swapped if not to throw them off her trail? Why would Father Wolf know how to access Ken’s hidden trove unless they knew from the start? It was way too soon for Aryin to begin to attempt a theory as to why, but as the seconds passed she began to suspect that this house might not be so safe for the group.

”Linqian, I am getting a bad feeling about all of this. What if that vision we just had was a warning, like what if your former friend was not who you thought they were, and what if coming to this house was a dangerous fucking move? What if our former friend was hiding more than just joining 8th Street? I was never good at this shit, the investigations and planning, but do I sound crazy or does this make sense?

---

God. Fucking. Damn.

Luna was only getting more agitated, and Drake was the one to light the powder keg. Sully just happened to follow them right in time to see Drake blast Luna off her perch. Was he out of his mind? Sure, they were getting heated, but attacking her was going from a three to a ten immediately. He made a mental note to get on Drake’s ass about that. First Sloane, now Luna, he didn't like that pattern.

Sure enough, Luna tipped and fell over as she displayed her magic. The Stoic Shell evaporated and Stormy booked it over to her point of impact. When Luna was close to the ground, Stormy caught her in his arms. A moment later, multiple circular shields formed in the air to put a wall between Drake and Stormy. Just in case he had the bright idea to throw a lightning bolt at her or something.

”Drake! That’s enough!” He shouted, loud enough for Drake to hear from in the air. ”I’ve got her! Drop your weapon! This isn’t getting us anywhere!”

He motioned for Sully to come over, that shock looked painful. ”You and I are going to have a long and thorough discussion about escalating later, Drake.” he said, before turning his attention to Luna.

”Can you stand?”