The recollection was… interesting. Anya took a moment to think about it, ignoring the commotion that was the rest of the coven. She did catch Linqian going into Sloane out of the corner of her eye, and Sloane’s subsequent defending of her. Which Anya appreciated, only so she didn’t have to deal with Linqian.
8th Street's mention in the recollection could be disregarded. Anya already knew that they had been trying to recruit Kari thanks to Sloane. But who had Kari joined to protect her from them? Was there a connection to Father Wolf? It seemed likely. Kari had the means to aid someone in killing them.
As they headed towards the basement, Anya briefly turned her attention to Clancy. A child that survived being shot. How intriguing. After they first met, Anya had tried to enter his dreams, with no success. Night after night she tried, but there were no dreams to get into. Almost everyone dreamed, even drunkards like Evelynn on the rare occasion. But not him.
It was curious, and clearly pointed towards him not being human.
The basement was cluttered but Ken had a clear goal for where he was taking them. Anya watched with a raised eyebrow and some amount of awe. It had been a while since they talked, and longer still since Anya had truly seen him use his magic. While the two of them weren’t particularly close, what he showed only confirmed to Anya that he was someone she should become friendlier too.
Because he would be useful. One of the few useful members of the coven, in fact, outside of the large burst of emotion he showed.
Anya inclined her head at Sloane as she rolled her eyes and left - an action that would offend most, but Anya could read the meaning behind it.
”She’ll come around,” Anya said softly to Britney, gaze moving over to the stairs Sloane had disappeared up to make it clear who she was talking to. Of course, she didn’t really believe it. Sloane was unlikely to ever forgive Britney for what she’d done. It was a shame.
She then turned towards Ken, crouching down to get on an eye level with him. She didn’t make a move to physically comfort him - she couldn’t do that, and didn’t want to. Others already had. Britney had gone on about staying positive and hopeful. Anya, on the other hand, was going to take a more logical approach.
”You said that the seals weren’t broken, right, Ken?” Anya started, with a gentle smile. ”Isn’t it more likely that Kari herself took the notes out? Maybe she was adding to them, or reorganising. We can’t immediately jump to the conclusion that they were taken. It would require very strong, subtle magic to get in without you being able to tell. As far as I’m aware, 8th Street doesn’t have anyone with that kind of magic. It doesn’t discount others but… I agree with Britney. Let’s look around the rest of the house.”
She straightened back up and gestured towards the stairs, indicating for him to lead them back up. ”Where’s the most likely place that Kari would leave the notebooks, if not in there? We can start our search there.”
"She won't say anything, again- about your brother."
”Heh, I won’t let her say that shit again,” Linqian snorted, lips pulling into a thin smile. She was inclined to treat Clancy like the kid he appeared as, joking and thanking him like she did when Henri talked about protecting her as a young boy, but there was an otherness and maturity that stopped her. He looked young, but he didn’t act it. Whether it was due to circumstances or something else, she wasn’t sure. ”But if she says anything while I’m not around, make her regret it.”
She then turned to Aryin, who’d probably overheard it - not that she was bothered by that - and slapped a hand on her friends shoulder.
”Well I haven’t been shot or teargassed yet, so this ones going pretty well,” Linqian replied drily. Every meeting had been a shit show, at least this was a shitshow where they were probably making progress. They had a goal. That was a lot better than just turning up to a stripclub on a hunch, or not even making it out of their new ‘lair’.
They made their way down to the basement and Linqian kept an eye on Clancy - because even if he was a paranormal kid, he was still a kid. Someone had to be the responsible adult here! And it sure wasn’t going to be half the people here.
Layla was high off her tits. Fucking hell. She was not babysitting her again. There was no motivation for that. No expectant little brother or high paying, drug inducing boss.
Her attention turned to Ken’s feat of magical genius. She recognised some of the Kanji, thanks to the similarities to traditional Chinese. Some kind of repeating phrase… she only recognised the words “must” and “pay” from all of them. Honestly, the speed they were going at and the full visual effect hurt her head. She looked away, grimacing. This was Jinhai’s area of expertise. She always left the things that required brains up to him. He’d tried to explain different dimensions and shit like this to her, and she’d zoned the fuck out everytime.
It wasn’t like she could do it, so why bother learning about it? She had way more important shit to deal with. Like work-
And definitely not Ken having a full on breakdown over some notebooks being missing. Holy shit. She understood that it was hard to lose someone. She really fucking did. But this wasn’t the time or place. She looked away, fists clenching at her side. There was a toxic jealousy roiling in her chest at the ease with which Ken could show his grief. How openly he could just cry and wail about it. She would love to be able to do that. Had she even properly cried over Jinhai’s death yet?
No. She didn’t have the time. She discovered his body, and had to deal with all that came with it. Then she had to be there for Henri, she had to move, she had to work to keep them afloat- she didn’t have time to cry or grieve. So she’d put up a cover of emotional numbness to stop herself from processing it at all.
Linqian was jerked out of her thoughts by another fist to her shoulder, tilting her head towards Aryin with a questioning eyebrow raise. She followed her over the wall.
”Fuck if I know,” Linqian frowned. She hadn’t known Kari well at all, but she’d seemed nice. She was part of that weirdo magical girl group filled with nerds proclaiming to fight darkness or some shit. They didn’t seem the murderous type (apart from maybe the edgy one).
But maybe that was all fake. There was no way Linqian would see through that. But Jinhai hadn’t suspected her either. Then again, Jinhai didn’t know about the murders… this was making her head hurt. She wasn’t cut out for figuring shit out. That had never been her role. She was the get pissed at people and punch them person.
”Yeah, I got a bad feeling about this too. Shit’s too weird. Like, the dead Kari being another Kari? Can’t wrap my head around it but that’s a massive red flag… Fuck, what you’re saying makes sense. I can’t think of why, or what the fuck that vision was trying to warn us about, but yeah. Something isn’t right.” She shook her head. ”Let’s stay down here and look, maybe we’ll find something. Wait-”
She turned back towards the main group, speaking louder so they could hear her. ”We’re going to look down here. There’s plenty of places a book could’ve been left, maybe Kari was just using them or some shit. Maybe someone else can help?”
Linqian gestured towards Clancy and Britney - the two she’d be alright with sticking around. Britney she trusted, and Clancy didn’t have any proper connection with living coven members (or Kari). After saying that, she pulled a hair tie out of her coat and pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail.
”Let’s get searching,” she said to Aryin with a wry grin. She started rummaging through one of the shelves, looking for anything that looked like… notebooks. Fuck. There were loads of notes around here. ”Not that I know what we’re fucking looking for! I don’t understand half this shit.”
Understatement, she didn’t understand any of this shit.
She then lowered her voice back to a whisper so only Aryin could hear her, pretending to look so nobody got suspicious.
”You’re definitely right that coming here is probably fucking dangerous,” Linqian whispered, gesturing towards her back where the pistol she’d brought was hidden. ”I came prepared. I’m fucking getting shot again. It’s magic too, or some shit. Dunno, Greyson said something about orange lux infused. Sometimes this shit is more effective than getting up close and personal.”
She shrugged, picking up a book and skimming through it. Stuff she didn’t understand, probably not the notebooks they were looking for.
”I’m not taking any fucking risks.”
Interactions: Clancy, Jacqueline Reed (text) @Punished GN Kari’s House, Patio
It was difficult for Luca not to feel guilty when Lila talked about how glad she was that Luca wasn’t with 8th Street anymore. Of course he wasn’t with them anymore, he refused to hurt anyone. But he’d joined a group that Emily was in charge of in the first place. And if the direction and leadership changed… He’d probably rejoin. Though he wouldn’t be abandoning these three friends, even if he did.
He turned his head to Clancy when he asked about the book.
”The book’s still with an 8th Street member, one of Emily’s sisters,” Luca replied to Clancy. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned it. He didn’t want to put Jacqueline in any sort of danger. ”She’s really reasonable, so I’m sure she’d talk to us if we asked- and help. I think I still have her number.”
Luca still had the numbers of a lot of 8th Street members - saved on his computer for if he ever needed them. There were a few he added to each new phone: Carol’s, Greta’s and the twins’. Just in case. He never actually contacted them.
But he’d message her about it when he got a moment.
”I’ll stay up here!” Luca waved to Ken’s retreating back. Almost everyone had gone into the basement… apart from Drake and Stormy who’d gone into the woods. After Tayla’s stalker? Luca decided not to think about that much - it wasn’t his place.
He didn’t want to disturb Jasper while drawing and honestly, a moment of peace was nice. Luca was still recovering from the festival, and with that came a lot of pain and exhaustion. He grimaced as he moved over to a large rock, sitting down. His knees creaked slightly as he bent them, but the relief at being sat was near immediate.
Now seemed like a good opportunity to text Jacqueline. He pulled out his phone, concentrating to make sure he didn’t destroy it. Typing was an arduous task - his fingers ached and were incredibly stiff, and his phone was a cheap, shit type that only had the numeral keypad. After quite a bit of time spent typing,
To Jacqueline: Hi, its Luca, can we meet to talk sometime?
Jordan stood at the front door to the 317. He was wearing a black fuzzy sweater that was one size too big with a pentagram on the front, blue acid-washed jeans, and trademark circular frames on his face. Today was a slow day once more, people were either still hungover from the Halloween festival or saving whatever they could for the upcoming holiday sales that the artist here would no doubt be offering. A slow day simply meant that Jordan could simply stay alert, watching and waiting for something to happen. And if that meant walking out to the courtyard, buying delicious food from the trucks, and simply people watching his way through the day then so be it. He had enlisted some help as well running Aaron’s room so that the Faith would be none the wiser to his absence today.
Jordan took a big bite from his tacos and smiled. Today was going to be an easy day. And then he smelled it. It was a familiar, pungent smell that seemed to permeate the area around him and the presence of it was enough to give him a slight buzz. Greenwood, and the brought their green.
“... Heeeeeeey, babe,” Ruby walked up with a smile on her face… she was wearing red jeans, some white sneakers, and a white tank top. She stepped through the front door and walked over to Jordan. She just reeked of weed and alcohol. She walked over to Jordan and gently caressed his arm. “... You’re lookin’ lovely today.”
“... God damn it, Ruby!” Naomi shouted as she walked up, wearing some black New Balance sneakers, some black Nike sweatpants, and a hoodie. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“... Sorry, bro,” James walked over, wearing the same exact outfit as Naomi, but he had a backpack on… his axe was nowhere to be seen. “She got turnt up before we got here!”
“Hey, I tried to stop her!” Jessica walked up with her hands behind her head. She was wearing a white button-up shirt, with some jeans and some black cowboy boots. Her grandfather’s leather cowboy hat hung off the back of her neck like some kind of weird necklace. “But, she wanted to drink and get high first!”
Ruby whipped her head around towards Jessica.
“... If I can pass a field sobriety test something is wrong,”
“Yes, we are sorry,” Pearl said, walking up in a blue dress and tall boots.
“What a lovely day!” Kashmira shouted as she walked up with a wide smile on her face. She wore a dark green t-shirt with black leggings and some sneakers. She looked up at Jordan and said, “How are you doing today, friend!? Are you feeling wonderful?”
Autumn silently walked up wearing some jeans, a black overcoat, and some tall combat boots. Similarly, Amelia didn’t an entrance either as she wore a green military jacket, some black jeans with some black leather running shoes.
“Yeah, dab me up!” James walked over to Jordan, putting his hand out.
“He probably doesn’t know what dabbing is!” Noami laughed.
“... Is that because he’s white?!” James laughed back.
“Wait, no, the other guy didn’t know what dabbing is…” Naomi tried to explain herself.
“Because he’s white!” James grinned.
“Oooooh, shut up, boy!” Naomi shook her head.
What… the… fuck? Suddenly Jordan knew his day was not going to be so simple anymore. Greenwood never just showed up together for no reason, at least not that he knew. If they were here, they would be wanting something. And he hoped that the 317 would listen. They fought together once before, and it was a good fight to fight. He could not linger on these thoughts, though, he needed to greet the guests. Jordan's eyes rose up to Ruby and smiled. He remembered Greenwood's leader very well, and he remembered the quality of their weed. If he played his cards right, and by play them right he meant simply hang out with them, he might be able to get high for free for the rest of the day. His eyes drifted to James. Placing his plate of food down on the chair behind him and then dabbed up James.
“What’s good,” Jordan asked as he looked over the rest of the coven, “what brings you down to our humble establishment today?”
“Seeeeeee!?” James shouted as he looked down at Naomi, who crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.
“Greenwood…” Ruby said, before she shook her head. “... Greenwood came here today to talk business. An alliance… I know we didn’t end things on the greatest terms, but I think we can hash things out. The city is getting more dangerous by the second, and I don’t think either of us can operate the ways we were before, babe….” She got to the point.
The smile faded slightly from Jordan’s face. “And here I was hoping y’all missed this ugly mug of mine,” he sighed as he rubbed his neck. Jordan remembered that after the Nazi fight was finished, Greenwood was not too happy that Faith was continuing her monster-making business. It was a sore point, while on one hand she only ever did it on verifiably evil people it was still an evil line of work to be in and disrupted the natural order of life. What’s worse, is Faith had a hand’s off approach to verifying if the groups she sold to were not terrible, and often overlooked the potential for harm that her actions would bring. Jordan remembers very well that final argument, and Jordan wished that Faith had just listened to reason back then. “Faith and Octavia are off-site right now but I can take you to them,” he paused as he smirked, “they might not be happy to see you after last time but those who were there are,” he looked over the group, “a few of us have been pushing for the 317 to take a side so things might be different this time.” Jordan waved for them to follow. “Only one way to find out though!”
He led them down the one wing of the 317 until they were about halfway down and stood outside a locked door. He knocked three times looked over the group and smiled. A second later the sound of three separate locks unlocking was heard and the door was pushed open slowly by Alex, who looked like they were just asleep.
“What do you want,” Alex said as they yawned, “I was doing important work for the collective.” Alex was dressed in a dull lilac sweater dress with black leggings underneath. They had on a pair of purple Converse, and their glasses were crooked on their face.
“Important work,” Jordan raised an eyebrow before he motioned for Alex to look behind him.
Alex’s eyes drifted and rested on Ruby’s face. They yawned and started for a few seconds longer before the worn-out gears inside their brain finally began to turn and the realization sank in. “Oh shit, what’s up y’all? Come on in, come on in, you guys got any gummies? I’ll pay.” Alex stepped aside as Jordan led the group into the unassuming room. The ceiling had a painting on it that seemed to change as the group entered the room, wherever Greenwood would stand they would see a small dot appear as well. The floor was similarly painted and had a similar effect. Both paintings seemed to have another painting inside of them and a third inside of that one.
“You all stand against that wall,” Alex spoke as they pointed toward the wall opposite the door.
“... Is that your firing line?” Jessica snorted as she threw a thumb towards the wall, but walked towards it anyway.
“Nice place,” Ruby looked up at the ceiling.
“We got some gummies but Ruby’s…” James said as his eyes drifted towards Ruby. “... Yeah, good luck getting them from Ruby.”
“Maybe it’s our parting gift,” Ruby answered, “How have things been, babes? I hope better for ya’ll than it has been for us…”
“Not so much better,” Jordan sighed, “conflict with the 8th, we’re worried about other groups pushing us, and a few of us are off trying to stop some murders leaving us a little more vulnerable.”
“So there’s a chance,” Alex chuckled, “and it’s not our firing line,” Alex paused as they activated their power, opening the portal between the floor and the art dimension behind it. The group fell for only a second before they landed in the oddly white dimension of art. “It’s our elevator. Simple rules for this place, do not wander off the path,” they pointed to the path underneath them. The path led to a nearby painting on the ground. “Do not interact with the locals under any condition, they know you’re here with me but they do not like it. Now, let’s just,” Alex paused again as they opened the next portal and motioned for everyone to jump through.
Jordan led the group into the next portal and once again fell for a brief few seconds before they landed in another building room. Jordan opened the door and exited to a new, different building. This building was without windows, and it was made entirely out of concrete. String lights dotted the building providing an uneven lightning that hid many of the blemishes. There was no discernable or remarkable feature that would tell the group where they were, but they would be able to see Summer at a workbench, a dozen homunculi behind her, and Faith and Octavia a few steps away.
“Jordan, everything-“ Faith started but paused when she caught sight of Ruby. Faith crossed her arms and leaned on her hip as a frown formed across her face, “Greenwood. A surprise.”
Octavia had a smile as she looked over the group. “Maybe a welcome one, what can we do for you today?”
Naomi leaned forward and whispered something in Pearl’s ear as Ruby took a step forward.
“Sooo….” Ruby awkwardly shuffled her feet as she looked at Octavia. “Doc Ock, my girl… How have you been? You’re looking lovely as ever.” She smiled
“Sypha’s not in tonight? I mean, it’s not fair to discuss what I wanted to discuss without all your leadership present...”
“Sypha will be here soon,” Faith said as she shot Jordan a look, which Jordan surged in response to, “Alex, go grab her from her office and bring her here,” Faith paused as she watched Alex shrug their shoulder and give a thumbs up, before they disappeared into the painting. “While we’re waiting is there anything we can get you? This building is finally ours however it needs a lot of work before we can open up the exhibits here to the public,” Faith paused as she pointed towards a wall across from her. A table was present with a coffee maker and a few boxes of donuts. “Summer is making a few homunculi to fix this place up, and get it ready for the contractors to come in.”
“We’re hoping it can be another huge boost for the community at large,” Jordan interjected.
“That’s the hope,” Faith smirked, “another draw to hopefully put more money into the restoration of this area without raising the property taxes on the residents.” Faith looked to Ruby, “we can start the discussion now, what can the 317 do for Greenwood today?”
“Well… your homeboy mentioned problems with 8th Street earlier,” Ruby nodded towards Jordan. “Along with a few of your members off to solve some murders…”
“Sycamore, I presume?” Pearl asked.
“A few of our members?” Faith asked as she looked over to Jordan who was wincing. “So it seems, yes.” Faith's eyes rested on Jordan’s for an uncomfortable and silent minute. “The answer to your question is yes,” Faith crossed her arms, “8th street started a fight with two of our members at the Halloween festival, and hurt them really badly. Sypha healed them as much as they could but they could only heal so much when the damage was caused by George,” Faith paused as she exhaled. “Things are not as around town as I hoped they would be after last year.”
“Ooooh,” Kashmira held her mouth. “Maybe I can take a look? They don’t call me Dr. Sarei for nothing!”
“It’s still a clusterfuck, even after the Nazis were taken care of,” Ruby shook her head. “I’m not surprised that 8th Street are bullying people there of all places… their leader usually recruits the aggressive idiots that are in that sweet spot between being too dumb to question her orders but strong enough to be useful to her.”
She shook her head, “But it’s about time that we stand together against Emily, against the Wolfpack, against the Elite, against all those bastards. You must realize that it’s only a matter of time until things go to hell again, right?”
“Heh,” James grinned, “It’s already gone to hell it seems like! You worried we’re gonna reach super hell or something?”
“Aryin took the brunt of the damage so they should be fine,” Jordan said to Kasmira, “but I’m sure they appreciate the offer.”
“Their leader is a sad woman who desperately wants to be important,” Faith scoffed.
“A sad woman who wields tremendous power,” Sypha spoke as they exited the painted elevator, “Ruby, a pleasure to see you again. As is the rest of you.”
“You got here fast,” Jordan chuckled.
“Zeri was in my office and spotted you all on the cameras, I tried to get to you before Alex took you down but I was a minute late,” Sypha walked past Greenwood, and walked to the side of Octavia and Faith.
“I’m starting to agree,” Octavia said to Greenwood, and then she repeated herself to Faith and Sypha. “You’ve both seen it, they’re going to come for us eventually. You don’t exist with a trove of powerful objects without inviting a challenge.”
“We can defend ourselves,” Faith quickly shot back. “We have enough automotans to defend both locations, and if they fail we have the horde.”
“We’re also not fighters,” Sypha responded soon thereafter, “speaking from experience most of our collective will not do well if a serious war were to break out again.”
“Speaking from experience,” Jordan interrupted, “I think we both know that some fights are worth the risk.”
“Jordan, we’re artists,” Faith started as she threw her hands into the air, “were artists. I’m worried that if I get involved, if we get involved, that this safe place I’ve built will be torn down,” Faith rose in volume, “I’m worried that all the work I’ve done to rebuild this community will be taken from the people who need it most, and I’m worried that everyone who came to me for protection will find that I can not do anything when shit hits the fan. So yeah, I’m afraid of things going to super hell.”
“I mean,” Naomi shrugged. “I’m a college student. He’s a college student. She’s a college student. She’s a waiter in her parent's restaurant. She’s a librarian. She’s a fitness influencer.” Naomi gestured to, in order, James, Kashmira, Pearl, Autumn, and Jessica, then to Amelia and Ruby.
“And these two….” Naomi crunched her face up, as she said, “... Just eat each other’s asses all day.”
“You know it, Naomi,” Ruby said. “You should join us. We can make like an ass-eating ouroboros.”
Naomi was stunned.
“... No thank you.”
Jordan smirked at the idea of an ass-eating ouroboros.
She shook her head, before she added, “Point is, we’re regular-ass people too! And we fought Nazis sorcerers, wannabe supervillains, rich assholes, and all the other assholes that stomp the streets.”
“... You were only in Greenwood for like a year, Naomi,” Ruby raised an eyebrow.
“So? I did all that, in a year,” Naomi laughed.
“We saved the world in Boston,” Jordan waved his hand to Sypha.
“And we also watched so many good people die in the process,” Sypha responded with a sigh.
“You’d watch many more good people die if we don’t protect this town from the fuckers that want to rule it,” Jordan countered.
“And eventually, if we don’t do anything right here, right now we’ll be alone against all our enemies,” Summer interjected from across the room as they put their inventions down, “my automatons are good, the horde is good, but will they be good enough if they come for us in the end? I do not know. I do know that when we worked together we destroyed a great evil, and now more evil is making itself known and we’re cowering,” Summer slammed her hand on the table, “behind our walls and our guns and our monsters.”
“Look…. Summer here has a point, babe.” Ruby took a step forward. I can tell all of you have mixed feelings about what to do next… and I feel the same way. But, if Emily gets her way and 8th St takes over the city…”
She glanced at everyone present, from Greenwood to 317.
“... They are definitely coming for you. Especially if assholes like the Elite, Wolfpack, or if the Nazis rise again because that asshole Berlioz is still out there.”
She sighed.
“... How about this? One of my spells lets me create an emotional connection between a group of people,” Ruby began. “You all will be able to see how everyone feels, and maybe it can help you all make up your mind.”
“Ruby,” Amelia finally spoke, “You don’t have your channeler.”
“And I don’t need it,” Ruby answered before she threw a thumb at Kashmira, who smiled and waved. “We have our Green Shaman here, I can take it.”
“Let’s do it,” Octavia said as she looked over to Faith, “we can trust them.”
“Agree,” Summer returned to her Inventions.
“I’m on board,” Jordan said with a smirk, “don’t judge me the what you see.”
Sypha looked to Faith and Faith returned the gaze. A few seconds passed before Sypha gave Faith a nod. “Go for it,” Faith said in a tired voice.
“Alright…” Ruby cupped her hands together and closed her eyes. Burns traveled up Ruby’s arm, and she did not so much as flinch until they reached her hands. A pink ball of swirling energy formed in her hand, starting out the size of a baseball until it got much bigger. Swelling up to the size of a yoga ball, Ruby had no choice but to raise the ball up into the air… until it absolutely exploded.
When it exploded, it formed a massive transparent dome made of pink energy around the group. Inside it, various wisps, lines, and whatnot carelessly floated in the air, and everyone had their own aura that corresponded with their present emotion. Not only that, but everyone would begin to feel it if they focused on someone. 317 could see Greenwood’s collective concern and their confidence in not only themselves but also each other.
“... Ow,” Ruby said.
Greenwood would see a few different emotions from the 317 members present. Overall, however, the collective all had a similar fear that permeated all the other emotions. A fear of failure, a fear of being swept aside, and a fear that all the terrible things that they’ve done to survive until this point would be for nothing. Faith looked confident in her fear, as did Sypha, but Octavia sunk a little into it. Jordan’s fear was fueling his anger, his strength, meanwhile Summer’s was feeding into her creativity. Overall the 317 would read as being afraid, but confident and ready for a fight if it were to reach their doorstep.
“Let’s address the elephant in the room, shall we?” Ruby gave them a wry grin. “We’re both…” She glanced over her shoulder at the rest of Greenwood. “... Afraid, concerned, worried. We both know why.”
She shook her head, “But, the point of this is so that you all can understand how you all feel better because we made how we feel very clear and I’m also making it very clear we have nothing to hide, but plenty to show.”
“... Oh, God, please keep your clothes on this time, Rubes!” James laughed.
Ruby shook her head.
“Now, tell me,” Ruby said, narrowing her eyes as the burns got more intense… she didn’t flinch. “... Will you all sit on your asses while our enemies only get stronger?”
The aura over Fair changed ever so slightly at the call to arms. The fear was still there but it was being to mix with another emotion. Faith was ashamed of something. “Listen,” Faith started, “I still have much to hide. Why do I get to be apart of the group that defends this town when I’ve brought monsters into existence that may threaten it one day?”
“... Are you still making monsters?” Ruby raised an eyebrow. “Why are you acting like you haven’t crossed the threshold yet? You still have a chance to make amends.”
She looked at the rest of Greenwood, before she said, “Look, we didn’t want anything to do with you all because we thought, back then, you all were bound to go off the deep end and start making civilians into monsters. Every fucker that does fucked up shit for the ’greater good’ does.”
She shook her head.
“However, we never considered helping you all so we don’t have to go that far. So we can keep each other on the straight and narrow.”
“Yes,” Faith said bluntly as she eyed up Ruby and pondered what to say next. “As always they were an evil person, a serial killer who murdered his wives to get a payout from insurance. No matter how desperate things get I’ll never do that to someone innocent,” Faith sighed, “fuck,” Faith looked at the members around Greenwood and then the few 317 members. “This is the worst part of leadership. No matter which way we go there will be repercussions that will be felt for a long time….. but,” she paused as she looked at Octavia, “that might be easier to handle with some friends by our side?” She asked as she shifted her vision back to Sypha, and Sypha reluctantly gave her a nod. “Alright,” she took in the deepest breath possible, “you have our attention.”
“... And who determines what someone does is ‘evil’?” Ruby tilted her head, and the burns got worse but this time, Ruby seethed. “Who judges them? You? What about what your people think? What about what we think?”
“Proof,” Faith replied bluntly, her aura growing more confident and justified, “and verification. I don’t think anyone will cry over a few transformed Nazis, murderers, serial killers, rapists…. At least now their life has a purpose and will no longer threaten my home.”
“... And nobody should,” Ruby shook her head. “But, it’s all a slippery slope… What happens when you all are put on the line and run out?”
“If I may intrude, Ruby,” Pearl said, “I said the same thing when you said we were no longer going to follow our previous no-killing rule. That it’s a slippery slope.”
She narrowed her eyes at Ruby.
“... I want to say we were pushed against the wall against the Nazis,” Ruby answered, “But, we agreed to only kill the bastards like the Wolfpack, 8th Street, the Nazis.” “... And how is that any different?” Pearl asked.
“... Because I said it was,” Ruby answered.
“I agree,” Faith said in response, “but it is one that I tread with utmost caution.” Faith paused as she motioned around the area. “For ten years I have used my spellbook to build up this community from the ground, and I have never crossed that line. I will never cross that line, that I can guarantee. I love this city, this community, and the people who make it up to ever turn into a problem that will threaten them.” The aura grew stronger around Faith, Octavia, and Sypha. Each one had a vivid blue aura that showed their determination. “We will never be a threat to this city, that I can promise you.”
“I may be a transplant but this place has a charm that is hard to describe,” Sypha joked.
“We saw this city reduced to rubble once, we’d never do that ourselves,” Octavia smirked.
“Well, that makes one of us!” Jessica laughed, throwing her arms behind her back. “For one of us, Ruby will flip the whole world on its head. Ain’t that right, Rubes?” She shot Ruby a shit-eating grin.
“... Yeah, ain’t that right, Ruby?” James also shot her a shit-eating grin.
Ruby rolled her eyes.
“I’ll do anything for my friends, yes,” Ruby shook her head. “But, that doesn’t mean I’ll be going off the deep end anytime soon.”
She sighed, “We’re going to be protecting this city’s nature and getting rid of the assholes without becoming an asshole ourselves.”
“I mean,” Naomi shrugged. “You got us to check you. We check each other. We been checkin’ each other since day one!”
“Yeah, we aren’t going supervillain anytime soon,” James said.
“So…” Ruby turned towards Faith. “... Are we friends now?”
Faith sighed as she looked at Ruby, letting a tense silence fall between the two of them. The silence lingered for what felt like minutes before she shook her head with a chuckle. “Fuck it……. yes.”
Tayla heard a hell of a lot going in the woman's mind. Like there's literally someone else in her head she's having a full conversation with. Nothing stuck out to her, until she mentioned burning the Coven down if they wouldn't believe her. Well shit. They're dealing with a crazy. Stormy not wanting her here is valid.
She followed after Sully, keeping up with what was going on with Drake, Stormy, and whoever the hell Tsukino is. She picked up that she was once in the Coven, but shit when wrong with something mafia related. Honestly, she probably was either too drugged out or not around anymore when that was revealed. Who knew they had two criminals in their group, technically three if attaching spirits to people was a crime.
She arrived in time to see Drake electrocute her and Sully having a problem with it. She can say one thing for sure, she wasn't involved with Father Wolf. Good. She doesn't know who she's involved with, so that's bad. It's through Tsukino's pain that she heard her intent to kill.
"Drake! Move out the way! She's trying to kill you!" Having Coven members drop like flies to Father Wolf is one thing. She'll be damned if any of them die around her though. She was quick to move behind a tree. Duck for cover whenever guns are involved.
Just as quick as she held the light gun to Drake's head, she let it shard when she fell. She couldn't go through with her threats to whoever she was talking to in her mind. Tayla still wouldn't trust her. She came out from behind the tree, cautious. She took the headphones off once Tsukino passed out.
"Good going, Drake." She did her best not to sound sarcastic. "Stormy, give him a break. If you felt what I felt from her, you wouldn't say anything about escalating. You said yourself that she couldn't be trusted. I didn't feel anything good coming off of her. There's...an intent there. I don't like it." Tsukino may not want to kill them, but she couldn't get much information from the other voice in her head. She get the feeling their intentions don't align.
"Drake! Move out the way! She's trying to kill you!"
Drake didn't move or so much as flinch.
He had his Thunder guard active, after all!
He just ducked behind the electric barrier he had created, confident that it could stop whatever Luna had up her sleeve. He could hear Stormy and Sully shouting at Drake to stop, like he was the bad guy here. Didn't they see the binoculars? The bitch was stalking them! She was either that Wolf Bastard or she was working for him! Drake knew it in his heart! They caught him flat-footed, and they finally made a breakthrough. He didn't stop until Luna went limp and fell out of the tree into Stormy's arms...
... He erected barriers between the two of them.
Like Drake was the bad guy here.
”Drake! That’s enough! I’ve got her! Drop your weapon! This isn’t getting us anywhere! You and I are going to have a long and thorough discussion about escalating later, Drake.”
”Bro...” Drake muttered under his breath with a roll of his eyes. Was Stormy really going to take the side of some mafia bitch that was stalking them over the word of his bro? Or did he want Luna later? What happened to the bro code? Bros before hoes! And this hoe had something up her sleeve.
But, as requested, Drake dispelled both the Thunderguard and the Electric Flail. He was still surrounded by a small field of electricity as he was flying. However, he floated downwards, staring at Stormy so intensely that Stormy probably could feel it through the shields. As he floated down, he crossed his arms and spoke to Stormy, defending his actions with full confidence.
”Me? Escalating?” Drake began. ”Have you already forgotten someone is literally trying to kill us? Lyss died just the other day, Stormy. We can NOT afford to play games.”
He looked over to Tayla and Sully for a moment, ”... Especially with shady motherfuckers like her! And two, you probably didn't hear it, but someone sent her to spy on us, and she refused to tell us who. So I did what I had to.”
He hit the ground, threw his hands into the air, and said, ”It could be that Wolf Bastard for all we know! That would make sense, wouldn't it? A lot of sense.” He crossed his arms and said to Stormy, ”And even if she isn't working with or for Father Wolf, you haven't been in St. Portwel in over ten years, Stormy. Some of the groups that call St. Portwell home...?”
He let out a sarcastic chuckle.
”... Yeah, you can't play softball with them.”
"Good going, Drake. Stormy, give him a break. If you felt what I felt from her, you wouldn't say anything about escalating. You said yourself that she couldn't be trusted. I didn't feel anything good coming off of her. There's...an intent there. I don't like it."
At least somebody had some sense here. Tayla knew that something was off with Luna, but you don't need Pink Lux for that. Maybe the Mafia life wasn't what it was cracked up to be.
”Now, drop the shields, and let's go find something to tie her u-”
His speech was interrupted by Sully tackling him to the ground at Mach-Jesus.
Luna opened her eyes to find herself in Stormy's arms, saved from directly impacting the ground. Her bleary gaze caught sight of the shields over them, and Drake's piercing glare behind them.
Luna was used to dealing with hateful thugs and unpleasant people. That was the life she led. But the hot fury and irritation, the utter disgust directed at her from Drake, hit so much harder on a personal level.
She felt like shriveling up and disappearing. But she feared that wasn't in the plans for her.
”Can you stand?”
Her mind reeled. Her entire body was on fire, the convulsions causing incredible muscle pain along every inch of her body.
But instead of complaining, she simply looked up at Stormy. This was the closest she had gotten to the coven in ten long years. And unlike Drake, Stormy wasn't actively upset with her. Yes, displeased, but he kept that off his face, treating her like a human being first.
“I'm… fine. You can put me down.”
"Stormy, give him a break. If you felt what I felt from her, you wouldn't say anything about escalating. You said yourself that she couldn't be trusted. I didn't feel anything good coming off of her. There's...an intent there. I don't like it."
“Tayla, get the fuck outta my head!” Luna snarled, mustering enough strength to lift her head a little and level a glare at the girl. Tayla and her Pink Lux could go to hell.
“You fucked off and left this coven in ruins, you have no right to say anything about trust and not to trust. You think I don't know about your habits when you fell away? Huh?!”
“Silence.”
Luna immediately clamped down on her lip, visibly flinching. White Suit's voice was calm, yet commanding, leaving no room for debate.
“Much was sacrificed to obtain that information. Remain calm. You know better than this.”
“Sorry, Don.” Luna squeezed her eyes shut, sucking in a sharp, pained breath. It hurt to get so riled up; her head was ringing.
”... Especially with shady motherfuckers like her!”
Shit.
Luna listened to Drake defend electrocuting her to kingdom come, and her stomach twisted uncomfortably. A sense of foreboding slowly seeped into her bones.
”Now, drop the shields, and let's go find something to tie her u-”
Luna stared at Drake, her heart sinking. What were they going to do to her? Drake had already hurt her with impunity, what else could she expect?
At least, that was until Sully came to her ‘rescue’, tackling Drake to the ground. That was all the slip in focus Luna needed, and she thrashed hard in Stormy’s arms, hopefully with enough surprise to make him drop her.
Whether it worked or not, the sudden movement on her convulsed muscles shot pain throughout her body, and she went limp, groaning, the pain causing stars to dance in front of her vision. Thus temporarily ended her short-lived escape attempt.
She gritted her teeth, her voice hoarse. “This isn't fucking fair. I'm just trying to help you. Don't you know I have friends that can help with your little problem?”
So, 8th Street were squatting in a mansion? Compared to the abandoned factories, warehouses and run-down projects he'd clambered through in the northern half of the Rust Belt, that didn't sound too bad.
Harder to miss, Clancy guessed.
Sloane denied any real knowledge of the book, but she'd mentioned the mansion. Before he could probe further on that point, Luca had mentioned contacting one of 8th Street - someone called Jacqueline, but he still wanted to know about the mansion.
"Who says I can't?" Clancy asked, floating the question bluntly, "You think this is the first time I've got into places they don't want people? How'd you think I got in here? Be easier if someone could just tell me where to go." His tone wasn't hostile; just direct as he thumbed back in Luca's direction. "Y'know... just in case things don't work out."
But it was too late for that, and she was already distracted with something else. The asian man - Ken - was trudging down the steps of the basement with them to show them what he'd known. The space was familiar, and held a dull warmth that he couldn't quite feel anymore, but could've pictured someone else enjoying. It was the kind of place that he'd imagine his old man or his brother would've enjoyed, a long time ago.
He had no clue what the Murasaki or their Dark Drops were, but he could only guess it was another form of the magic lux he'd slowly come to understand, probably with some Jap twist that his Uncle Gerry would've scrunched at with a queer suspicion. Purple Light projected characters of an alien language across the surface of the wall, scrolling like a holographic displauy.
And the space opened. A space that didn't seem as though it belonged to the wall, but was more like a window to somewhere else. It felt different, fundamentally.
An array of belongings. Boxes. Containing treasures or junk, depending on who you asked. They meant nothing to Clancy, but he suspected his sister might have appreciated them. She liked colour, and there was plenty of it here. In the feathers. In the stones - in those that glowed in a spectrum that he couldn't have plausibly believed if not for other things he already knew about the world.
The man was crying. Grieving might've been a better word for it, because tears were just the surface level pain - something he couldn't have shared in even if he wanted to. Clancy didn't judge Kenshiro for this one, considering what he was probably going through. He seemed to be one of the few members of Ashley's old friend circle that seemed to actually give a shit, and apply some measure of organisation and common sense. He could appreciate that, and with the news that the notebooks were missing, and the argument that followed around 8th street and whether or not they were involved, and what they may or may not know, something came to mind.
"I'm sorry about your friend." Clancy said, directing an outwardly cold -but genuine - condolence to Kenshiro, "It's shitty. But-.. only Kari would've known how to unlock this thing, right? And you-" he shifted his gaze towards Britney, "You said the one who died wasn't your Kari."
He suspected this wouldn't make him popular, but he had to make the argument. It was so obvious that he felt stupid for not giving it more consideration.
"I'm not saying it's her. Your other friend - Lionel? At the graveyard, I heard him call Father Wolf a 'he'." He shot Britney and Adora another look, "Yes, I was there when she told you where to go, too, but I don't care about that right now. So far, everyone who's been killed by this asshole has been part of your old group. Unless you still have enemies that aren't dead or gone, that makes it possible that it could be someone who was one of you. Or that someone of you is caught up in this too. Is that Kari? I don't know. But she's part of this now, and if she isn't dead it's obvious she's hiding or being hidden."
He shrugged. "Back to my point. How many of you are left now? How many of you do you know that are still alive? That isn't to say this rules out any one of you, either-... but I've heard about 8th Street, and Emily and her group of assholes - they've come up too many times not to be involved, or have some part in this."
This time, he pivoted fully to face Britney.
"I don't know what you did to people, to make them something they're not, but I know what it's like to be on the other side of that." Cold condemnation sat in his gaze. "If you had done that to me, you'd be dead already. But I'm not her. I don't know what's going through their heads."
In 8th Street’s main hall, Emily had zipped up a bright neon-green rain jacket… heavy-duty that could withstand the storms and prevent Emily from getting wet. All of 8th Street was putting them on, along with a gas mask pouch around their hip. as Emily stood over a large blank sheet of paper that she had over their main hall table. She held a black marker in her hand as she gestured for 8th Street to get closer and announced, “Alright… everyone listen up!”
“What’s all this for?” Miranda asked, her eyebrow raised in curiosity. “Are we going to rob someone again…?” She punctuated her question with a sigh.
“This is our battle plan to put those sluts in their place,” Emily grinned widely. “We’re going to march right up to where those sluts are and take Lila right in front of them to show them how much power they have....”
“And Britney?” Carol piped up… already wearing a gas mask, which muffled her voice.
“... And Britney,” Emily said with a roll of her eyes. “And take that gas mask off!”
“No! It makes me look cool as fuck!” Carol laughed.
“Take. It. Off.” Emily seethed.
“Fine, Jesus…” Carol grumbled as she removed the gas mask and put it back in her pouch.
“Wait, you can’t be serious, Em,” Jacqueline’s face contorted to shock. “You started that!”
“I just made a mistake,” Emily shook her head. “Lila attacked me. Not only that, I got jumped by them when I was walking to the bathroom because I just so happened to have the Chalice on me—oh, that reminds me, we’re coming back with Drake and Kenshiro, too!” She grinned.
“Well, count me out,” Miranda shook her head. “You were in the wrong, and we’re not participating in it.”
“Yeah, count us both out,” Jacqueline said. “If that’s what you want to do today, we want no part of that.”
“Fine,” Emily rolled her eyes. “Before you go, tell us where those sluts are.”
Jacqueline sighed, rolled her eyes, opened the Expert’s Book, and scanned it for a moment before she said,
“... They’re at Kari’s house,” Jacqueline shook her head before she turned and walked off with Miranda in tow. When Jacqueline made it to the door, she stood at it for a moment and said, “Let us know how that goes.” She slammed the door.
Emily didn’t react.
“Everyone of you slams doors, dude. Your parents, I swear,” said Vashti, shaking her head as she rummaged around with her pouch.
“Kari’s house…” She tapped the marker against her chin. “... What are those sluts doing at her house?” She asked out loud.
“Probably taking all the cool stuff we left, bro,” said Vashti, her voice muffled by a gas mask.
Emily facepalmed as Vashti removed the gas mask, using the reflective lenses to check her hair.
“... Vashti,” Emily began, taking her hand from her face. “Have those annoying strippers gotten back to you yet? We need them for our plan.”
“Huh? I thought you wanted me to stop inviting strippers after that last time when Cynthi-ooooooh! You mean V and P? Oh, yeah, totally, let me just check real quick, I definitely remembered to reach out to them. Highest priority, really,” said Vashti as she fumbled with her phone, her thumbs a blur. The swooshing sound effect of a text being sent played through her phone’s speakers. “Oh, weird, no, nothing yet. Don’t worry, I’ll keep them in the loop.”
Vashti nonchalantly tossed her phone onto the table and returned to doodling on her gas mask with a white permanent marker.
“You know it’s funny, bro. Between V and P the names should really be the other way around. What with the…” Vashti made a hole with her finger and poked the marker through it, making a loud popping noise with her mouth. She returned to drawing a tiny cartoon alligator and then paused, turning her head to Emily. “Wait, what were we talking about?”
Emily facepalmed again.
“... Jesus, Christ on a cross, Vashti, I love you, girl, but can we foc-”
Violet screamed as she walked in, wearing a black hoodie… but her exposed legs made it ambiguous whether or not she was wearing anything else. She danced as Pink followed behind her and briefly shook her ass. “It’s been a while, my lovelies!” Violet screamed as she walked. “What’s the haps!?”
“Yaaaaaaaaaaas!” Phoebe laughed as she ran over and hugged Violet. “Where the fuck were you?! You know it’s boring as fuck here without you.”
“Hey, that’s not what you were saying earlier!” Maya complained, scowling at Phoebe.
“We have jobs.”
“Shaking ass isn’t a job,” Phoebe laughed.
“Well, tell that to the people throwing them hundreds, yaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” Violet looked at Emily and Vashti. “... Am I missing something?”
“A gas mask? Emily, what are we doing? I already handled the Lila situation,” said Vashti, kicking her legs up on the uncharted battle plans and rocking back dangerously in her chair. “Do you know how hard it is to catch birds, bro?”
“Vandalizing her house isn’t enough,” Emily answered, “I want her dead!”
“... And Britney, right?” Carol asked, with the gas mask back on.
“... And Britney. Both of them. Dead.”
Vashti stared through Carol with vacant eyes that suddenly widened in panic as her chair began to slip. She barely caught the table's edge with her hand to stop herself from falling. Without a moment of hesitation, she resumed rocking in the chair. Vashti nonchalantly gestured at Violet, “So that's the plan.”
Violet stuck her tongue out and posed, kneeling and putting her hands on her shins.
“That's the plan?!” Maya looked up from filling Phoebe’s gas mask with sand, narrowing her eyes. “I thought we were just going to shout at them, kidnap them, torture them, and then send them back with their tails between their legs.”
Emily facepalmed again.
“... She’s not the plan,” Emily seethed as she pointed at Pink - who also stuck her tongue out, knelt over, and put her hands on her shins. “She’s the plan… the escape plan in case things go south or if Agent Liao forgets our deal….”
Emily shook her head as she leaned over the table with the marker in hand… then quickly bent over and scratched out Vashti’s drawing before she stood up straight and said.
“But, if those sluts are at Kari’s house…” She trailed off, tapping the bottom of the marker against her chin a few times. “Everyone gather around!”
She grinned.
“... I have the perfect plan in store for those sluts. Now, Cynthia, Amy, Nadine....”
Their plotting went on until they were all in agreement on one plan.
Stormy did as Drake asked, dropping the shields and letting the whole thing slide. Ten years hadn't left him lacking the memories of the things they had to face as children, not at all. But Stormy was thinking of the big picture here. Yes, they were being picked off, and yes, Tsukino was a problem they had to deal with back then. But they didn't have much to go off of now, and jumping the gun like this worried Stormy. And when Stormy began to worry about people, he worried a lot.
Tayla stepping in seemed justifiable, when she pointed out that she could feel the hostility on the woman. But... Didn't she sever a long time ago?
Odd.
”It could be that Wolf Bastard for all we know! That would make sense, wouldn't it? A lot of sense. And even if she isn't working with or for Father Wolf, you haven't been in St. Portwel in over ten years, Stormy. Some of the groups that call St. Portwell home...?"
”... Yeah, you can't play softball with them.”
"I think we would've caught Father Wolf sooner if it was this easy to capture her," he responded, and was going to respond to Drake again before Sully came in like a freight train and tackled the man.... Ouch. Sully could probably fix that. Probably. He let Tsukino down when she started writing around in his arms. Only for her to fall to the ground limb as a stick.
“This isn't fucking fair. I'm just trying to help you. Don't you know I have friends that can help with your little problem?”
"If that were the case, why didn't you approach us openly? You could have done so sooner, or waited until we were done investigating the house. You could've even done it while we were here. I'd be lying if I didn't understand why Drake felt the need to attack you," he said patiently, keeping close to her in case she tried anything funny.
"You were one of us, Tsukino. I'm almost positive Auri tried to reach out to you. And if she did, you had to have known stalking us would've been a bad decision, when all of us are very capable of defending ourselves. So why? Talk us through that."
Interactions: The Coven
The Shadowzone > Kari's House
By the time Jack even thought to check the time again, he had sped through the rest of his books in a frenzy to find something they could work with. His books on the Pit mentioned ways one could break out in theory, but he had no proof that Raven or Sunshine actually left the Pit. He had nothing of real substance here. Pieces of knowledge that could help the others to approximate an answer two, yes. Maybe even another lead to pursue, but not an answer in sight. Jack enjoyed being in the dark, but not in this meaning of the word. It frustrated him to not know something about the paranormal world, but he could manage. The answers would come in time, and time was a place he needed to return to.
Shadows lifted books from the desk to their resting places on the shelves, and Jack marked one with his Blackout Shift spell. He grabbed his channeler off of the desk and made a portal into Shimmer. Hopefully there hadn't been anything particularly eventful...
A black, swirling disc of energy appeared in Kari's bedroom, without a sound to be heard. Jack could hear a void through the other side, growing more clear by the second starting at the sound of being underwater. His boots touched the floor in equal silence, and found himself standing behind Sloane and Lynn, who was clearly exploring the future.
“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. You’re such an embarrassment. Why would they even invite you? If we accomplish nothing again it’s all your fault.”
Was she talking about herself?
"You aren't responsible for everything, my friend," he said, breaking the illusion that she was alone at last. He was terrible about announcing his presence this way.
A flight of fantasy played out in Sully’s mind. Sully couldn’t shake Drake’s last text to him:I like you, don’t come to the next meeting. Perhaps that sake had hit his head harder than it should have, but Drake’s words sounded like the manifesto that would be read out by a news announcer shortly after a mass shooting so the station could turn a tragedy into more ratings. Adrenaline took over. Drake hit the ground and Sully tackled his friend to the ground. Sully even threw a protective hand over the back of Drake’s head to prevent it from cracking hard against anything as the two slammed into the dirt, Sully’s knee jamming hard against a gnarled tree root that was protruding out of the earth.
A wave of pain coursed through his body, clarity taking the opportunity to surf that swell to the forefront of Sully’s mind. Okay, so perhaps Tayla was right and Drake wasn’t working his way down a hit list but actually just defending himself from a potential hit. Sully groaned, shifting up to his knees while still pinning Drake to the ground. He gave Drake an apologetic smile and a reassuring pat on the chest before he helped Drake back up to his feet. Sully positioned himself between Luna and Drake, ready to block in case Luna tried to retaliate or Drake turned out to actually have gone postal.
“Okay, okay, okay, let’s all just take a big time out here. It’s like Stormy said, we’re all friends. We’re all pals. Nobody’s gonna fuck around with anybody’s head anymore or snap and start shooting up the place, right?” Sully glanced at Drake. “Right? Right. So let’s just talk this out. Also, sorry about the tackle bud, dust yourself off.”
Drake didn’t look all that hurt, but Sully offered him a sip of the Chalice anyway. Then, Sully walked over towards Luna and Stormy in an awkward side shuffle as if he was caught in a Mexican standoff, unwilling to fully turn his back on Drake just in case. He knelt down to where Luna had gone limp and nodded at her, offering up his assistance in case she needed help with drinking from the Chalice. Despite the accusations being thrown her way, he felt like it was unreasonable to believe that one of their own would have any actual ill-will towards the rest of the group.
“And Luna, while you should’ve just come up to the house instead of hiding in the bushes like a bashful little wallflower, it’s my bad that Drake ended up giving you the lightning lasso. We got a little riled up back there,” said Sully. “Hell, I thought you were Tayl-uhhhh, anyway, look, I’m sure this is all just some big misunderstanding that we’ll all be laughing about in minutes. So why don’t we all go back inside and carry out this conversation where there’s a nice, comfy sofa and Aislin’s bong?”
Sully offered Luna his hand, motioning the others to follow him back to Kari’s house.
Tayla rolled her eyes. She thought her bitch ass was knocked out. "Tsukino, shut the fuck up. I'm sure you being a thug had a lot more to do with the Coven disbanding than me leaving." She didn't want to hear anything from anyone that couldn't give a shit about her when she spiraled out. None of them are her friends and she doesn't care for them to be.
She looked back towards the house. They were the only ones left out here. Fine by her. She didn't really care to be in the middle of whatever shit show was going on with the others.
Drake said something about tying Tsukino up, but didn't get to finish his sentence. She turned back to get the group when he got cut off.
"Holy shit, Sully. What the fuck!" she yelled when Sully tackled Drake to the ground. She understood he had a problem with the way Drake shocked Tsukino out of the tree, but she didn't think he'd jump him like that. She'd help Drake get Sully off of him if she had any weight to her at all, but she doesn't. If the winds get a little too high she'd blow away in the wind.
She cut her eyes at Tsukino for suggesting she could help them. "Or," she said after Stormy asked about why she didn't approach them like a normal person, "We can not give a flying fuck about her reasonings when she's clearly here with bad intentions."
Then Sully had the nerve to invite her back to the house. "I know you've been drinking a little too much if you think taking her back to the house is a good idea. Didn't I just say she's off? That she has malicious intent?" She motioned towards Drake. "He shocked her ass for a reason. Let's not pretend she isn't dangerous just because we can defend ourselves. We shouldn't invite trouble. We have enough going on as is. Tsukino, fuck off back to your gang and forget we ever existed." She wasn't dealing with someone else that's part of the criminal underground. Greyson's bad enough. So bad he's the only person on her to kill list. She can't have someone that dangerous knowing so much about her, especially not after he threatened her son. All these mafia types are the same. None of them are worth having around. It'll spell a bad end for all of them.
Drake screamed as he was slammed to the ground. It felt like his entire spinal cord was about to shoot out of his ass at four-hundred miles per hour. Like it felt like he was going to break in half under Sully's giant ass body. It was a conscious effort to not electrocute him, but as stupid as he was right now, he couldn't do that to the homie! Sully's large and sweaty body was on top of him, pinning him down; it felt like the Old Coven for a second! However, after a second, Drake came to.
”... Get off me, you big motherfucker! Jesus! You trying to kill your boy!?” Drake bitched and moaned until Sully finally got up off of him. Thus, Drake shook his head and then dusted himself off. He didn't know where his sunglasses flew off, but he had to complain some mo,re, ”... And this is my favorite jacket, too!”
Drake scanned the ground and found his sunglasses in some leaves. He picked them up and cleaned them with his shirt (he was doing laundry tonight anyway) before putting them back on his face. Stormy and Sully were defending Luna, despite it all, and it was pissing Drake the fuck off. Really? These two would instead turn their back on the squad for a literal traitor?! The time after the Stygian Snake made them soft and foolish, but not Drake. At least Tayla - who he knew didn't like him - had the sense to take his side.
"I think we would've caught Father Wolf sooner if it was this easy to capture her,"
”... Let me repeat myself since the last time didn't land,” Drake shook his head, trying his best not to look like he was about to attack again. Sully? Drake could be without magic, but Stormy? He was a whole-ass powerhouse, and Drake didn't have many tricks to counter his own other than outmaneuvering him outright. ”... There are different groups out here we can't fuck around when we're dealing with them.”
“You fucked off and left this coven in ruins; you have no right to say anything about trust and not to trust. You think I don't know about your habits when you fell away? Huh?!”
”Bet you think murder, extortion, and whatever the fuck else your corny-ass mob does is a 'Good habit', right?” Drake laughed, crossing his arms. He ignored the part about Tayla because whatever she did, that's in the past, and he hoped she'd be a better person now. ”And you do realize you're basically admitting you've really been stalking us, right? And you want us to trust you.”
He shook his head before he looked at Stormy, ”I was wrong, Storm-man. There's no way this idiot is Father Wolf.”
“This isn't fucking fair. I'm just trying to help you. Don't you know I have friends that can help with your little problem?”
“And Luna, while you should’ve just come up to the house instead of hiding in the bushes like a bashful little wallflower, it’s my bad that Drake ended up giving you the lightning lasso. We got a little riled up back there. Hell, I thought you were Tayl-uhhhh, anyway, look, I’m sure this is all just some big misunderstanding that we’ll all be laughing about in minutes. So why don’t we all go back inside and carry out this conversation where there’s a nice, comfy sofa and Aislin’s bong?”
"I know you've been drinking a little too much if you think taking her back to the house is a good idea. Didn't I just say she's off? That she has malicious intent? He shocked her ass for a reason. Let's not pretend she isn't dangerous just because we can defend ourselves. We shouldn't invite trouble. We have enough going on as is. Tsukino, fuck off back to your gang and forget we ever existed."
Drake shook his head at Sully. The dude has been huffing the same shit Auri has, hasn't he? Sunshine and friendship don't rule the world, and Drake was not going to trust Luna in any capacity even if Auri listens to her.
”Look, Luna, we don't want your help. You weren't trustworthy ten years ago, and you're even less trustworthy now,” Drake said, lowering his head and then shaking it. ”Fedboy was one thing, but I'm not going to stand by here and let you worm your way back in here.”
He glanced at Tayla before he turned to Luna and pointed at her, ”So... Turn your wings on, fly away, and never come back. Because if I catch you again, it's-”
That was when everyone at Kari's house was pulled into a Recollection...
”... Oh God, not again!” Drake shouted.
Recollection: The 8th Street Coven.
Interactions: None.
Kari's House. During Kari's funeral.
The Recollection began…
During Kari Wilson’s funeral… her house was peaceful. The warmth of the halls was still there despite its two inhabitants' unfortunate and tragic deaths. A few family members of Kari went through the place, but the plans were not to put the house up for sale, at least for now. So, it remained unperturbed, perhaps out of some form of honor of Kari’s memory.
A memory that was spat upon when an almost heavenly bright yellow portal exploded open in the main hall, right behind the front door. The first person to step through was Emily G. Reed herself; she stepped through and put her hands on her hips as she looked over her shoulder… as the rest of 8th Street came through the portal.
“Disturb as little as possible,” Emily commanded. “Remember… we were never here.”
8th St went to work as Emily remained near Vashti, then shouted, “Find Kari’s notes! You-know-who is paying big money for them!”
As everyone scattered, Emily turned to Vashti and crossed her arms, smiling.
“... It’s a real shame what happened to that slut, Kari, ain’t it?” Emily asked, holding back laughter. “She should have taken my offer while she had the chance! Maybe her stupid ass would still be alive!”
“Huh?” said Vashti, popping her head out of the closet she was rummaging through with a long knitted coat in her hand.
“Oh, yeah, bro. Like, major bummer,” said Vashti somberly as she began to snake her arms through the sleeves of the coat. An excited squeal erupted from her mouth as she did a little spin and flashed the inside of the coat to Emily as if she were selling stolen watches. “Look at these pockets! They’re huge!” Another excited gasp burst forth as she grabbed around to try to find a nonexistent tag. “I think this is homemade!”
“… Vashti, we’re not supposed to leave any evidence we were here,” Emily facepalmed. “… Put that ratty coat back, you’re about to burst out of it anyway!”
“Ffffffine.” Vashti threw her head back with a sigh and marched back to the closet like a tin soldier. After a struggle to get her arms out of the sleeves she slung it over a hanger, which it promptly fell off of the moment she shut the closet door. “But have you not watched a true crime show, dude? Nobody’s even wearing gloves. We’re leaving evidence all over.”
Vashti began drumming her fingers against anything within reach to emphasize her point
“… I mean evidence as in if any of Kari's thug family comes in, there’s no obvious signs someone was rummaging through here,” Emily crossed her arms then rolled her eyes.
“I thought Kari’s family was mostly social workers,” said Vashti, thumbing through a stack of unopened mail left on the entrance table. She held up a piece of mail addressed to Elsa Conner over her shoulder. “Oh man, do you know what’s fucked up, bro? Kari probably knew when Elsa was gonna eat it. I wonder if she was too scared to tell her. Wow, how tragic.”
However, she didn’t sound too upset about it. If anything she was kind of amused.
“You know, I asked Kari to read our auras a little while ago,” said Vashti, her voice lowering as she looked back at Emily with slitted eyes. “Do you wanna know how much time you have left?”
“I don’t, in fact,” Emily rolled her eyes. “It was probably as accurate as that dumbass Lynn’s “predictions”.” Emily finger-quoted.
Before she smiled and did a little twirl.
“... I’m going to live forever.”
“And get all old and crusty? Yuck!” Vashti made gagging sounds. “I’m trying to leave the hottest corpse possible.”
Maya had run off upstairs immediately, and ended up in the bedroom of one of the two girls. She didn’t know which, she didn’t care which, she just wanted to get shit done so she could get out of her and sleep. She immediately started going through the bedroom drawers- stopping at the second one.
“Holy shit, one of them wore nice as fuck underwear!” Maya pulled out a black, lacy thong with a grin. “This shit is expensive! I bet she hid it in here, too, everyone hides secret stuff in their underwear drawer.”
“What the fuck?! Maya!” Emily shouted as she teleported directly into the bedroom in a burst of flames. “Put that back before you catch herpes or something!”
Maya smirked, holding up the thong and holding it out towards Emily. “Ohhh, Emily, I’m flattered~ You think I don’t have herpes already?”
Emily’s jaw dropped as she stared at Maya in horror.
“... Make sure I never eat anything you cook ever again!” She shouted, pointing at Maya. “... Also, go and see if Greta can make something for that!”
Before she teleported back to Vashti.
“Heh, sucker, I always use protection,” Maya said quietly, smirking. She then shouted, “Hey, Phoebe, want to come try on Kari’s underwear! It looks clean!”
“… Sure!” Phoebe shouted as she ran in and slammed the door shut behind her. “Gaaaaawd damn, these are huge!”
“Oh man, I thought my ass might be big enough to fit in them, but you’re right,” Maya shook her head and raked through the drawer a bit more. She pulled out a nice looking, red lace bra and held it up against herself. “Ooo, maybe this one?”
“Come oooooon, Maya!” Phoebe laughed. “You know that’s way too big for you.”
"It's so hard being small," Maya pouted. "Maybe I could stuff it with some socks…"
“Boss! Boss! Come here!” Carol shouted, and Emily quickly ran back and ended up outside. Outside stood Carol Doyle, and behind her was George with his arms crossed. There was an old tin trash can right next to her. In her hands were the scattered ashes of some burnt papers. Carol had a wide grin as a magic blue tint surrounded them, and time was reversed until they were good as new.
Emily walked over with a smile and grabbed the papers. She laughed, raising it in the air.
“We got it!”
Vashti emerged from the house wearing Kari’s coat again, the pockets now bulging with makeup, hair products, and medications. A patchwork blanket was draped over her shoulders and her eyes blurred behind a pair of thick glasses. She hummed with delight as she sucked on a spoon, a pint of coffee flavored ice cream in her hand.
“Oh thank god,” said Vashti through a mouthful of ice cream. She pushed the glasses up to her forehead, “I think all this searching was giving me a headache.”
“… Put all that shit back!” Emily shouted.
“Here this one’s vanilla. Your favorite, bro,” said Vashti, pulling a pint out of the coat and offering it to Emily as a bribe.
Emily stared at it.
It ignited with Hellfire, turning in a bright red torch with screaming faces. Vashti was so used to Emily’s hair trigger that she didn’t even flinch. She just tossed the flaming ice cream tub up in the sky. It burned to ashes in seconds. She stuck out her tongue like she was trying to catch a snowflake and frowned when all she tasted was ash. What a waste of ice cream.
“I don’t get why you just don’t burn the whole house down,” said Vashti, dumping out some of the contents of her pockets and snapping a finger at a couple of 8th street goons.
“Hey dudes, you heard the boss. Go put this shit back,” she said with a wink. She turned back to Emily, “So what’s in Kari’s manifesto?”
“Oh man, wait, we gotta put shit back?” Maya had just walked out of the house in time to hear what Vashti said. She’d stuffed a whole bunch of makeup products that Vashti hadn’t taken in her bag (and underwear).
Emily’s face went red. Before she politely stated.
“... WHY ARE YOU ALL SO OBSESSED WITH STEALING FROM SOME DEAD SLUT?!”
Emily’s vociferous roar could probably be heard further than she wanted. “Almost every other day, we rob way better people… of way better shit! Kari was just a regular dumb slut! Jesus!”
“It’s wrong to be wasteful, bro…”
“Who gives a fuck!?” Emily shouted. “We’re about to get paid enough so you all can afford shit a million times better than what the whore could afford!”
At this point, Jacqueline and Miranda came out of the house hand-in-hand. They both wore sunglasses and wide-brimmed straw hats (which belonged to Kari). Eating popsicles, they also stole.
“See, even your sisters think it’s a good idea!” Maya pointed to them. “Not like she’s going to use it! Plus, you never let us use the stuff we steal.”
“That’s because you dumbasses like to do dumb shit with it…” Emily facepalmed before shouting, “EVERYONE! Put everything back! We were never here! I don’t care! Put it back!”
“Erm, bud wuddabouda ishream?” asked Vashti through another mouthful of ice cream, looking down at the nearly empty pint in her hand. She swallowed and put her hand to her head in pain at the immediate brain freeze. You even destroyed one, bro. Her family will already know that someone’s been here.”
“Matter fact, just drop it!” Emily said, “Brianna open a portal! Everyone put everything down, I will put it back myself!”
As instructed, everyone put their stolen goods down and Brianna opened a portal. Emily walked over to it and pointed at it.
“Everyone inside!” She shouted.
With some grumbling, 8th St retreated into the portal. However, when Carol stepped through, Emily grabbed her by the shoulder and said,
“Not you, we gotta fix this!”
“Fffffffffuck! I always gotta clean up after you all!” Carol shouted. “Fine…” she rolled her eyes.
Interactions/Mentions: Kari @Punished GN- Sloane @Atrophy Jack @Blizz In the possible future, one might see some crazy things
“Oh,” Lynn thought to herself as she found herself in the same possible future as before, “I was hoping for something more.”
Lynn had seen many possible futures thus far and she was beginning to notice a pattern in the finality of it. She had to take many actions in each one to get to the result, and each action was as unique as the one that preceded it thus making the predictions course hard to follow, repeat, and understand what happened between that prediction and now. But she had seen many more possible futures before this latest venture, navigating these uncertainties was becoming close to second nature for her.
The first eventuality that revealed itself as a possibility was the fact that Lyss had messed up when she summoned Kari’s spirit and that their Kari was dead. This future repeated itself several times in her search for the truth and Lynn did not think that this possibility was it. For starters, Lyss was a very powerful mage, and if she messed up with one why did she not mess up the others? Lynn did not believe that, with everything going on, Lyss would make a colossal error such as that. Lynn still explored it several times, but did so only to rule it out. Still, it was a good first practice run to find the truth.
The second future was also one that Lynn did not believe was possible. In it, Kari revealed that she was tricked into swapping bodies with the other universe's version of herself. The reveal came after their teleporters were able to locate the other Universe and bring Kari home safely. There was not much conclusive information gained by Kari in this future, as each prediction brought with it a new explanation. While the future was clear with the fact that Kari was swapped in this possibility, it needed to be clarified as to why. Which led to Lynn suspecting this was nothing more than another possible failure.
The third was equally unlikely. In it, it was discovered through various magical means that all the murder victims were swapped by Father Wolf, not just Kari. This was quickly disproven in her mind as the others summoned were not swapped, at least to her knowledge. Still, this one was the only one that Lynn could not disprove outright as false. The only one who could was dead. Her death could be a piece of the puzzle. Was her death rushed so that they would lose their ability to commune with the dead?
No. No this was not enough. Many trips into the future, three equally unlikely scenarios had played out before her mind. This was not what she needed, this was not what the Coven needed, and Lynn was suddenly not ready to admit that Kari was truly dead and gone. Instead, she returned to the start and began anew. In an instant, she was back further in the future. A thousand decisions were made in the blink of an eye to the present but were fully experienced by Lynn as she continued to push forward to the next possible outcome. More choices needed to be made, and more futures explored, and Lynn kept pushing until she found what she was looking for. After what felt like an eternity, Lynn had another batch of predictions.
In several of these new possible futures, Lynn discovered that Kari had swapped places with her counterpart to not only save herself but also get a second chance at life in another universe. At first, this seemed like nonsense to Lynn. That was, until, Lynn remembered exactly what Kari had lost during the battle with the snake. Specifically, who she lost. Would Kari truly abandon her world, and her friends, and condemn this other version of herself to death if it meant that she got to live the life she deserved? The answer to that question was not a for sure no. Lynn knew that she would need to talk to someone who had been around her more recently, someone like Ken, to determine where she was before her supposed death.
The next one that had any chance of being the possibility was that Kari swapped bodies to stop something much worse. The worse thing, like everything else that she saw, was subject to change depending on which possible future she was in. The only constant in these futures was that Kari admitted that there was a reason why she did it.
And the next caught Lynn by surprise. Through a tough battle, it was revealed that Kari was not only working with Father Wolf, but working with him for the greater good of the universe. Usually, this greater good revolved around the snake, however, there was enough variance that it was not a surefire thing to predict. This felt like an intriguing option for what might be true. Kari would be able to see if something terrible was happening. She always looked out for those she cared about, and if she saw that her former coven friends were being corrupted and would pose a threat to everyone else Lynn believed that she would be capable of helping a mass murder like Father Wolf. Kari protected those she cared about and would do so even if it meant killing others.
Then came another interesting and possible option. Kari realized that a member of the old coven was planning to do something heinous, and became Father Wolf to not only stop them but to stop their associates. What would they be up to, was the question Lynn thought to herself. Did it involve the 8th Street coven? Was Emily planning something terrible once more, and did she recruit everyone who had died to the cause? That sounded too smart for Emily, but if not her then who? As well, it began to become clear that 8th street was up to something in the present. They keep appearing early on in her predictions.
Lynn raced through these possible futures multiple times more trying to figure out if any made more sense than the others. Yet despite the repeated attempts, it seems that the future beyond that was still too far away for her to glean any useful information. Still, she was able to get a more reliable reading on what happened to Kari as she did this. She needed more information still. She needed to start over once more. Back to the beginning, Lynn’s vision danced, back to the present sitting in her former lover's bed, and back to starting the process of examining what was possible once more. Though this time the starting position had an added twist. Sloane was here, and she was…. Was she sad? Lynn stayed in the early stages of this future and watched for a minute before she began the arduous process of peering into the actual future. It’s not like Sloane would want to be comforted when she was like this anyway.
In an instant, she began to make choices to guide herself through the possible events. In the short term, there were a few events that caused Lynn some concern as she began to navigate towards another future, such as 8th Street revealing that they were at the house to either kidnap and kill Lila or make amends by Emily bringing her flowers. Lynn knew she probably had some time before they arrived and pushed forward.
After another thousand and so choices she found another possibility. Kari was mind-controlled by the Stygian Snake and adopted the persona of Father Wolf to cover her tracks as she tried to free the snake. If Kari had accidentally let the snake in, the results here would make sense. Kari could see when her targets were alone, and vulnerable, and would be able to dispatch them without much worry thanks to her powers. Also, leaving the wolf idols and convincing everyone that the murderer was related to something else would keep the coven off the trail of the snake for long enough for Kari to free it. In these possible futures, she saw the Snake free once more, and this worried her to no end.
Two more possible futures had any chance of being accurate, however they felt more remote than the ones that came before them. That is not what concerned her. Kari being Father Wolf, swapping universes to fake her death so that she may kill without worry had some merit but felt a bit more out of the realm of possibility. As well, Kari hiding in another Universe to save herself felt equally remote. She would have contacted them, she would have found a way to contact them to let them know what she saw, what had happened. What worried her was in the choices that led up to these possible futures. These choices led her to a autobody shop where she saw something that made her blood run cold.
It involved the boy Clancy. At best, the boy was an abrasive presence - irreverent, ambiguous. Perhaps he was just spitting insults decorated with harsh truths - or was it the other way around? Lynn had, for reasons she wasn't quite aware, earned a glowering expression on the few times they made eye contact. In one, she caught a shadow of his voice, "..talk like that about my brother? You won't talk again."
At worst? There was one distant, possible future. They weren't in the cabin. Somewhere else. An auto shop surrounded by chainlink fencing. Some of them were there, for reasons that weren't entirely clear. Broken bodies and blood spattered across the dirt. There was a door on the path they were headed. A few gunshots rang out, before being silenced by a shriek and a crunch. Someone reached out and twisted the handle, ready to fight - and in the doorway was a child-sized silhouette, hooded, with punctures consistent with gunshot exit wounds. A smoking pistol was at their feet. The boy was holding the twitching carcass of a tattooed, paunchy male in his late thirties by the throat, entrails trailing out from the man's belly like crimson streamers. He pivoted, apparently surprised they were here. There was viscera clenched in his fingers, and blood smeared across his lips. Clancy relinquished his grasp on the now-corpse, offering no apology for what they'd seen. "He's not here." In either case, there was something about the cold expression in his eyes that she couldn't quite establish.
What was this boy? She revisited this possible future many, many times trying to get more information from this autoshop incident however it remained remarkably consistent. To Lynn, this was an accurate prediction. The boy was going to kill, kill some more, and do so in a way that betrayed his inner demons. But she did not get the feeling that he was Father Wolf. He was something else.
She needed to go back once more, and see what she could see past that. Yet she was not prepared to see two Kari’s standing side by side in the final possible future she was able to see before she was ripped away from it by another vision.
“WHAT THE FUCK,” Lynn shouted as she stood up, she looked at Sloane and then Jack. “OH WHAT THE FUCK ARE THOSE POSSIBLE FUTURES. And what the fuck is up with all these visions? I think Kari is alive, but I don’t know what it means. Ten possibilities, that is it, TEN. Do you know how fucking specific that is? When we were fighting the snake I had to make my predictions based on HUNDREDS of possibilities, THOUSANDS, and this only has fucking TEN? What the fuck... what the fuck,” Lynn paused as she paced the room. She grabbed her flask from her bag and began draining it. She remembered Sloane was having a moment halfway through and slowed her drink and offered her the flask. “Is Kari trying to save us from something worse, or is she actively working with Father Wolf, or did she flee from Shimmer to live her life away from this clusterfuck,” she paused as she remembered some of the more short-term information she saw, “Oh, I am ninety percent certain that 8th street is about to attack... maybe ninety-five percent certain. We should warn the others.”
"You aren't…" was precisely all that Jack got out before Sloane spazzed at the sudden voice from the shadows. The creeping anxiety that she had been pushing back rushed her, muting what would’ve been a scream down to a tiny eek as she scrambled up and away. Sloane reacted so quickly she didn’t even have time to grab her Channeler. She threw her hand back in the direction of the voice and turned her head towards it as something flashed out from underneath her jacket, spiraling in orange and blue light from the hexmark. At the same time orange and blue flames licked out from beneath Sloane’s wristwatch over her old scar. Her face contorted in pain, soon replaced by a look of abject terror as her perception caught up to her reaction. The flames stopped burning and the hexmark stopped glowing as Sloane’s knife that had been intended for the voice’s throat embedded into the carpet instead, diverting direction just in time as Jack finished, “...responsible for everything, my friend."
“I would’ve been held responsible for that. Why can’t you just use a door, Jack?” barked Sloane, gesturing to the one she had locked and wincing in pain. She undid her watch and glared at the fresh burn on her wrist, slipping the jewelry into her coat pocket to prevent at least one source of further irritation. She walked over towards Jack and yanked the knife out of the carpet, tucking it safely away before retreating back to her own corner of the room by Kari’s desk. She pushed her hair back with her fingers, deeply relieved that nothing bad had happened, and took a second to collect herself. “How is it that you’re never on time despite being able to...”
Sloane was swept away into another Recollection.
“...teleport.”
“WHAT THE!” started Lynn suddenly, Sloane and her both bringing it home in unison with a, "FUCK!"
Sloane pressed a hand against her beating chest as Lynn exploded out of her vision quest, shouting absolute nonsense like a street corner prophet hollering about how the end was nigh because a cloud had passed in front of the sun. It was difficult to process both what Lynn was saying and the recollection at the same time. Kari was alive but also dead and Kari’s notes had been acquired by 8th Street? Lynn was either upset that her creativity had abandoned her and she could only fabricate ten scenarios or ecstatic that for once a vision of the future could be narrowed down to have some value? Sloane held out a hand to stop Lynn’s babbling, which she must’ve mistaken for a request for a drink as Lynn held out her flask to Sloane.
“I’m working,” muttered Sloane, still committed to never taking a drink again thanks to her Halloween hangover.
Sloane gently pushed the flask back to Lynn. Another time she would’ve done everyone a favor and have confiscated the item, but at the moment she didn’t want to agitate an already stirred up Lynn. Sloane gave Jack a blank stare as Lynn resumed her pacing and pondering. Lynn insisted that she was ninety-something percent sure that 8th Street was about to attack them, which prompted Sloane to fold her arms with a sigh. Of course Lynn wasn’t one hundred percent certain. She always had to give herself an escape route. 8th Street was probably just on her brain because her delusions had been reinforced by the bombardment of recollections.
“Sure, whatever. You do that,” said Sloane dismissively to Lynn and Jack. Sloane had only a vague idea of what had happened between 8th Street and the Sycamore remnants during the Halloween Festival. She knew Emily well enough to know that petty revenge wasn’t beneath her, but she couldn’t see why Emily would attack them when they were all together. Plus, if anything that Recollection had shown her that 8th Street was just as disorganized and mismanaged as Sycamore. They could’ve missed something crucial. Sloane sat down at Kari’s desk in front of her computer, pulled out her Channeler, and began to draw an intricate hexmark on the device.
“And once you’re done telling everyone that the sky is falling, would you two mind searching Elsa’s room?” asked Sloane, not looking up from her spell crafting. She scoffed quietly and shook her head. "Oh, yeah, maybe when Emily gets here you can ask her to share those notes with me?"
This one made Stormy’s jaw clench a little. 8th Street had been here, they had come and desecrated a kind girl’s home. They came and took notes that Kari had, but what did those notes hold? Stormy never knew Emily to be the academic type, or most of her “friends” for that matter… It seemed like someone was paying them. Or they were going to use the notes to their advantage somehow. Maybe they had a buyer. He wasn’t sure, but Drake knew more about them.
Once it ended, he looked around at everyone. Luna wasn’t in much of a position to fight. Drake just got his soul damn near knocked loose. It was almost funny how quickly things like these got out of hand. But now that they had some more information, maybe it would be more in hand.
Stormy walked over to Drake and Sully. ”Listen, I’m not actually angry with you. Sorry if it sounded like it- We can talk about that later,” he said, sincerely. ”But for now… You saw that too, right? Is it possible that Kari could be doing that to us? Showing us that recollection? Maybe a spell that transferred information when someone went investigating?”
He looked up at the house. ”Ken isn’t going to like this.”
Interactions: The Coven
Kari's House
When Sloane pulled a knife on him, he didn’t flinch. He was like a statue, just leveling that dead-eyed stare at her until she put the weapon away. It was a habit of his to always arrive in such a poor fashion, one that gave him quite the experience with a certain federal agent. But he was dramatic like that. And besides, the coven could stand to stay on their toes a little more often with this serial killer business.
”I see you’re ready for anyth-“ He was cut off by Lynn jumping back to the land of the living. She began ranting and raving about the possibilities that surrounded Kari. It was always worth listening to her, so he did just that. Lynn’s predictions were incredibly narrow in this case, and that was a surprise.
”Those odds are rare for you,” he acknowledged. It wasn’t a guarantee, but whenever there was a considerable chance, one had to consider it. So of course, Jack took the warning to heart. He looked at Sloane, who obviously didn’t care much for the predictions. ”I’ll help search, in case Lynn’s prediction doesn’t come to pass. But first, I’ll inform everyone else. If this is a false alarm, I’ll be back shortly.”
Jack walked out of the room, and used his magic to get around the place in the span of seconds. The basement first, then the ground by the door, then the woods with that mafia bitch. Everyone was given the same quick message: ”Lynn is almost certain we are about to be attacked by the 8th Street Coven. Be prepared, in case she is right.”
And then once everyone here today had that warning, he teleported himself into a tree overlooking the house. Obscured from sight between the leaves, he knelt on a thick branch. He could see everything from here, and quickly maneuver around attackers if they did decide to strike.
Interactions: The Cold, Hard Ground, Auri @Punished GN, Jasper/Lila @NoriWasHere Kari’s House, Patio
Luca got a reply from Jacqueline pretty quickly, which he opened immediately.
From Jacqueline: We can talk later. You and Sycamore need to get out of there now! Emily is about to attack you all at Kari’s house.
Shit. Luca’s control slipped and the phone disintegrated in his fingers, blowing away as dark specks in the light breeze. He’d need to transfer his number again, then get her number back on it and text her- No, fuck! That wasn’t important right now! He needed to warn everyone!
Luca shot to his feet, wincing as shooting pains travelled up from his feet all the way to his knees. He stumbled, gritting his teeth and spinning around to shout to Auri and Jasper.
Then he was thrown into another recollection.
He came out of it disoriented. 8th Street had Kari's notes. Whoever destroyed them didn't do it well enough, it was easy for Carol to recover them. But why did 8th Street take them? Why did they need them? Couldn't Jacqueline's book just get them all that information? Shit, the attack-
”We need to go, Emily is-”
Jack appeared out of nowhere, delivering a near identical message. Luca, still reeling from the recollection and physical pain, let out a shocked squeaked. He took a stumbling step forward- and tripped over his own feet, crashing into the ground with a pained cry. He managed to protect his face with his arms, landing not so badly that he broke anything... But there were harsh cuts all over his hands and he could feel the oozing, sticky blood across his arms, legs and torso. It was like his skin had ripped everywhere it touched the ground. Fuck.
”Lynn's vision is right,” he said weakly to the others outside the house, just lying on the ground. He didn't have the strength to get up immediately. ”8th Street are coming.”
"If that were the case, why didn't you approach us openly? You could have done so sooner, or waited until we were done investigating the house. You could've even done it while we were here. I'd be lying if I didn't understand why Drake felt the need to attack you.”
Luna grimaced on the ground, feeling her heart sink deeper and deeper. Of course Stormy was on Drake's side, at the end of the day. Sympathetic to the why while she was worse for wear than she had been in a while.
“You were one of us, Tsukino. I'm almost positive Auri tried to reach out to you. And if she did, you had to have known stalking us would've been a bad decision, when all of us are very capable of defending ourselves. So why? Talk us through that."
She could feel Stormy's gaze on her. Even if he was patient in his words, his demeanor was watchful, attentive. It would be very hard to escape, even in her current state. She stared up at him, then shifted her gaze to the side, trying to find some kind of salvation, a release from having to answer.
“You can lie.”
Luna was quiet, before she growled under her breath, crushing first and grass under her finger as she lay there, willing the pain away, willing for an answer to come.
She knew Stormy. They had fought side by side once upon a time. She knew Stormy would value the truth above all else, especially if she wanted to be welcomed back in the coven.
She bared her teeth, mumbling strings of curses.
“...My hands are tied here. I have a plan. Just play along. I… have to say what's on my mind. I might not have another chance.”
She was met with only silence in her mind, and she cursed again under her breath, shakily pulling herself half-way off the ground.
She stared up at Stormy, eyes tight. “I…”
A swallow, and her gaze broke, looking away.
“I was ashamed.”
She drew aching arms around herself. She could see it vividly behind her eyes. The scorn, the fights that broke out, the ridicule she went through when her secrets were discovered ten years ago. Angry and outraged faces that haunted her dreams.
She shut her eyes.
“How could I face you? You remember how I left. How could I face that again? So I did what came easy to me. I watched from a distance. I documented the triumphs and tribulations, pretending I was there with you. I watched my family, my home, become rebuilt, and I thought… Maybe it was better this way.
“It was… easier, this way.”
She stood shakily, lips pursed against the pain and ache in her muscles.
“I realize now it was wrong. It was the wrong way to deal with how I was feeling, and unfair to you. Especially given the current… situation. …I'm sorry.”
She just had to hold her breath, and play her cards right…
She watched as Sully, good ole’ Sully, kept in between her and Drake, acting as a mediator, similar to Stormy. Her eyes slightly widened, realizing that Sully might actually be willing to give her a second chance.
He shuffled over to her and Stormy after he tried de-escalating everyone. Lucky for Sully, Luna was in a bit too much pain to bother fighting or retaliating, at least not now, not yet.
She watched as he offered the Chalice, and her eyes tightened. Sully is too soft. Better to keep me weak, I'll be more inclined to talk. Sully was truly the definition of a good person within the coven's ranks. Goodness she didn't know she deserved. Regardless, she took a sip from the offered Chalice, and the pain from being electrocuted to high heaven melted away.
She breathed a sigh of relief, her eyes showing a crack of warmth. “Thank you, Sully.”
“Hell, I thought you were Tayl-uhhhh, anyway, look, I’m sure this is all just some big misunderstanding that we’ll all be laughing about in minutes. So why don’t we all go back inside and carry out this conversation where there’s a nice, comfy sofa and Aislin’s bong?”
Luna picked up on the slip right away, her smoky eyes zeroing in on Sully. Is something going on with Tayla? Her lips pursed as she thought. But with little else to go on, she let it slide. There was enough of a shitstorm to navigate without sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. She had to be re-assimilated successfully first. Then, bother with the intricacies of the coven. Intricacies that could only be seen when she could actually speak with them.
One step at a time.
But before she could accept Sully’s hand, Tayla herself spoke up.
"Or, we can not give a flying fuck about her reasonings when she's clearly here with bad intentions."
”Can you explain, exactly, how I’m here with bad intentions? For all I know, you’re the one here with bad intentions.” She said with a slight narrowing of her eyes. ”I’ve explained why I didn’t approach directly, I don't believe there’s anything sinister with that.”
"Didn't I just say she's off? That she has malicious intent?
"He shocked her ass for a reason. Let's not pretend she isn't dangerous just because we can defend ourselves. We shouldn't invite trouble. We have enough going on as is. Tsukino, fuck off back to your gang and forget we ever existed."
How could I ever forget?
“You need to play her differently. She’ll never accept you like this.” The White Suit’s voice encircled her in her mind.
Luna’s own mental voice was painted with frustration. “I’m trying. It’s hard enough to try and remain emotionless. She’s picking up on every emotion, it’s a powerful tell I have no control over.”
“Don’t focus on that right now. Focus on what you know of her. The ‘squishy spot’.”
“...Fine.”
Luna dragged a palm over her mouth, cupping it there before looking at Tayla. ”Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I know why you’re against me. Why you’re against… this. You’ve been burned before, badly, so you’re expecting only bad can come from someone like…. Me.
“I’d like to state clearly for everyone present that my intentions have always been for the goodness and benefit of the individual. I’ve always tried to help. Just ask the late Alizée. She didn’t have anywhere to go when the coven split up. I gave her a place to go.
“I’m not asking anything from you. I’m only looking to work alongside you. You don’t want me at meetings? Fine. But it’s up to the group as a whole, not individuals. Or should I say, it’s up to leadership.
“But I would also say that you’re not in a position to refuse help.”
”Look, Luna, we don't want your help. You weren't trustworthy ten years ago, and you're even less trustworthy now. Fedboy was one thing, but I'm not going to stand by here and let you worm your way back in here.”
Luna felt the crush in her heart again, but she kept it off her face, simply staring at Drake as he handed over the little death sentence and shut the door in her face.
”So... Turn your wings on, fly away, and never come back. Because if I catch you again, it's-”
But before she could speak, or do anything to respond back, she was swept away in another Recollection.
Her mind’s eye filtered through all the terible fluff - like the 8th Street girls trying on Kari’s underwear - until she was left with the highlights. Highlights that might prove to be a turning point. From what she had picked up, Sycamore was ransacking Kari’s house to get a clue on Father Wolf. That is all they cared about nowadays, anyway. All she should care about, too.
“8th Street weren’t there on their own accord. Someone paid them.”
“Yes. Someone wanted to either get Kari’s secrets for their own, or cover their tracks. But who would know about Kari’s secret notes? She even tried to destroy them…”
“Someone who has yet to make their appearance.”
“So it means I’ll get to strangle out a few 8th Street after all.”
“The mind of a capo never sleeps, yes.”
Luna rolled her eyes. “How else are we going to get 8th Street to talk?”
“Don’t tell your Sycamore friends your plans. They won’t understand.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
”Is it possible that Kari could be doing that to us? Showing us that recollection? Maybe a spell that transferred information when someone went investigating?”
Luna listened. But as for her opinion on the matter, she kept it to herself. She was the small fish. Sycamore had bigger fish to fry, if only they would drop old pretenses and see the overwhelming benefits she could give them.
Having been interrupted by the Recollection, Luna took a breath and finally turned her eyes toward Drake.
“You have every right not to trust me. Heck, I wouldn’t even trust myself. If you want me to leave, I will. But I want it to be put up to a vote.”
That's when Jack came with the news.
8th Street was coming.
"Seems you have bigger problems than little me, anyway.
Kipnu Riil
Lurkin’ Near Kari's House Mentions: None. Direct Dialogue: None.
Something was off. Something was wrong.
Kipnu knew the Coven. He knew Drake, and Stormy. When they ran off to address a disturbance beyond the trespassed home, Kipnu thought nothing of it, observing through Layla’s eyes and content to wait. But now?
Now, there might be a risk.
Drake still hadn’t returned. No one had gone to check on Tayla and the party. They were all mindlessly obsessed with the recollections and pointless baubles.
Well. It kept Layla occupied. That was good.
But if there was impending danger, he had to be the first to know. He was protecting his livelihood, the reason for his existence. If he didn’t have access to Layla, to her sweetness, there was no point. If anyone besides him hurt Layla… Well, it drove a lot of his actions, like how he found himself appearing in a smoky haze behind the brush and foliage, eyes looking on the scene unfolding near Kari’s house.
From his hiding spot, he saw Drake, Sully, Tayla, and…
The lenses of his mask glimmered darkly.
“What is my asset doing here?” he thought to himself. A pause, before it clicked. “She was spying, wasn’t she.”
He held his position, wondering just how compromised Luna was. From what he could see, she stood on a figurative tightrope between acceptance and rejection, and he was unsure exactly how hostile Sycamore was or would be towards her.
He crouched a little further back into the cover of the foliage, watching patiently.
She rolled her eyes so hard. Whatever bullshit Tsukino was spitting about her being burned before and how she's been helpful in the past. She didn't care. Like she knew anything about how she's been burned. Bitch, she's extra crispy. She's been manipulated enough to know when someone's trying to use emotions against her. It's not going to work. She's allowed one man to do that to her for eight years. Never again.
Drake shut her down immediately. After this incident, she might like Drake a tiny bit more than she already doesn't. She can't say she's all about second chances when it comes to her relationships with other people, but she'll tally a point towards Drake for having fucking sense. No talking about feelings and wanting to know why, just kick the bitch to the curb.
She was pulled into another Recollection. It couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes or less sense the last one. What the fuck was going on? She came out of it less disoriented than the first time, but had a lot more questions about what she saw and about the people involved. She didn't know much about 8th Street. She probably should, since every other magical group are enemy to the Wolfpack, but oxy and alcohol and sex kinda makes all of those things unimportant. She didn't know what Kari's notes had to do with anything, but she had a guess on who could pay top dollar for them. Another thing to add to her list to question the Dollhouse about. Cause if it's not them, then it's someone they might not know anything about and that was dangerous. Better the devil you know, then the devil you don't.
Jack popped up all of a sudden with a warning about 8th Street coming here to start a fight. She cannot be anywhere near combat. The Coven knows her Lux to be illusions. If she's not using it during a fight to play the distraction, as she often used to, then that would raise some eyebrows.
"Y'know what, fuck this. My fighting days are over. Like hardcore fighting. I know fuck all about 8th Street, but from what we just saw, those bitches are crazy. I sure as hell know they aren't worth me going home with bruises, or worse, dying, or even worse, having the Feds show up again. After whatever the fuck some of y'all got up to at the strip club a few weeks ago, I'm sure they're keeping closer tabs on us. Best to keep our noses clean as much as possible." She didn't know how much time they had before they showed up. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked the time. Damn. The next bus wouldn't be here for another twenty minutes. Buses didn't run out here too often like they did the city. It was too far out, a longer drive, and they only had one bus running the route instead of multiple. She hoped they wouldn't be here within that time.
"And don't think you can use the coming confusion to slip into the group. What the fuck's about to happen won't change my mind. Nothing you do will ever change my mind," she said to Tsukino.
She addressed the rest of the group."Any of you drive here? My bus won't be here for another twenty minutes and I'm not willing to wait for 8th Street to show up."
Mentions: Emily G. Reed, Kari Wilson, Carol Doyle, His Dead Wife | Direct Dialogue: Clancy Patrick/@Zombiedude101, Britney Williams/@Punished GN, Luca Olivera/@FernStone | Location: Kari's House
It was pretty difficult to get Ken to react. At best, for the first few minutes people started to disperse, he just wandered off into a particularly private corner and continued his (slightly muffled) sobbing fit. Of course everyone else wanted help; they wanted to act like they were going to take control and figure out where Kari's notes were. All Ken could feel like was a failure for a second time. Maybe Drake understood now, a little bit... In his own mind, he was taking this far better than the death of his Wife. He was only crying, there were no outbursts of Purple magic or feelings of the last possible resort. Kenshiro wasn't resigned to death; he was resigned to revenge. That he would spend the rest of his natural, and perhaps a future unnatural life, hunting and seeking and finding and killing. He wished a Fiend would bubble up from the floor and tell him that his Curse shall never end. He got satisfaction in chopping messengers like that in half, usually.
Instead the strange child who had broken into Kari's home was the one to break his slump at first. He said something close to comforting, only to rip it away as Ken clammed up at the suggestion that Kari would get involved with this. The suggestion that it may have been Lionel did occur to him during the previous Recollection, especially with 8th Street's reputation. Ken knew better than most what Kari was dealing with as far as pressure was concerned, as her spellbook was one of the most sought after in the entire city. It paid to have the All-Seeing Eye embrace you... "The Paths are secure: Master Kai's Wardenry was perfected in The Viscous, and he had thousands of equivalent years to perfect their security... Noone outside the Palette Clans have knowledge of their workings. By my estimation, looking at her Coin Collection, there were no broken knots or undone ties, meaning they've remained bundled and nobody found them in the freezer." he said, doing his best to remain composed. "If she had any sort of hand in this, she was either brainwashed, or forced! But if 8th Street was breathing down her neck, then Emily G. Reed is the first fucking person I'm interested in seeing. Because I already...-"
Ken choked up again, gripping his mouth and letting Clancy address Britney. "I don't know what you did to people, to make them something they're not, but I know what it's like to be on the other side of that." "Oh, my friend... She's a Pactmaker! And the whole reason Emily G. Reed is a bitter, wretched fucking cunt today?-" Ken pointed at Britney. "-Is because of you, Britney Williams. Because if it wasn't for you, and your dirty deeds? She'd be a stain on the pavement of St. Portwell. And we'd all be better off for it... Including my fucking Kari! Now what is my fucking life, Britney!? Empty! I have you people! You! And you know what the worst part is? I never would've known were it not for Kari telling me... The only other woman I thought I'd ever be able to truly open up to, and she's gone!"
But before he could make much more of a stink about things, another Recollection washed across the group. Ken wondered what the hell was going on and what the reason could be to receive two memories back to back, but his wonder quickly faded. Rage became him, watching Emily G. Reed and her cronies ransack his girlfriend's house while she lay cold and dead in a funeral home somewhere. He was so upset by it that he almost forced himself out of the Recollection to make a bad decision, but ultimately found something useful. He only vaguely knew Carol, hearing about the different members second hand from Kari herself. He was distinctly aware of her ability, however, to repair. To fix what's broken somehow, it was described to him but he paid little attention at the time. But, they were excited about burned papers? Kari wouldn't have burned her papers, he thought. She'd have no reason to: They were always coded. And not coded like some methodical magic would be able to decipher it. She had serious ideas about the security of information, it's why she was so insistent on still putting everything down on paper and not using some digital medium.
He recognized Vashti stealing a blanket he'd gotten Kari from The Whisper. It was simple fabric, but it reacted to the body heat of the individual: It was perfect for someone whose blood was cold. He only hoped that if she still had it, she'd ruin it somehow and make it unusable... It wasn't hers to enjoy. As everything faded, Ken was filled with a strange confidence he couldn't describe to the others. Rather than return to his previous default, he immerged from the Recollection with faith in his heart and fury at his fingertips. If he was right, and the notes weren't Kari's? If they were just some red herring devised by the fleeing Kari in a last ditch effort to throw 8th off her scent? He'd be able to act with utter impunity. No fear of the risks. Only vengeance.
"T-they're... They're not hers!" he said calmly, looking up toward Clancy and the girls further on. At once, he was frenetic again, and bounding up the basement stairs only to nearly trip over Luca. ”8th Street are coming.” It was never nice to see Luca in this state. He was nervous. More nervous than he should've been, and Ken was quick to lift him up by way of a magical hand. "Good, Brother... Good. Easy, now. Stand? And look at me!-" he said, speaking up again. He spoke loud enough that the whole house would've been able to hear him. "-They think they're so powerful? So strong? For insulting the honor of a dead friend and ransacking her home? Don't let this stand, Sycamore Tree! War Cometh!"
He put both his arms around Luca, embracing him as the physically closest object of affection he could interact with. There was a familiar gentle bubbling feeling, not against Ken's flesh, but against Luca's. The same kind of hug Ken usually gave him, where contact was extended and made safe by a small telekinetic bubble that prevented the rot from climbing onto him. It always vibrated and popped as little air bubbles trapped within escaped the field. Pulling back, Ken's eyes were still filled with tears. "Come on... Tell the Rot. He can have his day today, when we turn their entire mansion into mushroom food."
Despite the tears, he smiled. But he only had a little time left now to prepare. He pulled a small bamboo stick full of clay from his vest and began to channel a spell. The metal on his headband began to glow gold, and he snapped the bamboo in half. Another Ken formed from the clay in his hands, building itself out of gold energy until he was holding his own hand. The Dummy Buddy smiled at him, and he nodded back to it. They didn't speak to one another, but the Buddy was happy to stand in for Ken as he made his way out the back door. Knees buckled, and all at once Kenshiro flung himself vertically into the air until he had a bird's eye view of the property. Meanwhile, the silent clone looked at those who were gathering about in the main floor as things ramped up. It simply smiled and waved, but in its own mind the Dummy knew its job: Be a distraction. If they thought he was there and not fighting back, there was a chance someone would make the mistake that he wasn't willing to fight, and it'd be a perfect surprise to get bombed from above by exploding tree frogs.
"Mmmngymnmynmmmm" the Clone felt compelled to speak, but didn't possess the equipment to do so properly... But it stuck its thumb up, so... It had to be good and ready, right?
Britney couldn't help but roll her eyes at the overly dramatic display Sloane made on her way out. While Britney knew that Sloane wasn't wrong, the action seemed like something some teenager would do. Everyone here was an adult (well, physically, mentally was a whole 'nother discussion). Thus, she turned towards Anya and said,
”... I'm starting to think she likes the attention.” She didn't say it softly; she didn't lower her volume at all. She spoke because she couldn't care about that control freak's little feelings or reputation here - Britney was still trying to figure out why she even came here in the first place.
Everyone was starting to clear out from the basement. Britney glanced at Adora, and she was still pulling it together. In a few minutes, Britney would help her up because they couldn't be hanging around in here. The Feds are more than likely watching them as they speak, and Britney doubted Stormy talked them into backing off (it's more likely Stormy was trying to get with the boss ladies than anything). That just left Kenshiro and Clancy.
... And boy, was the latter interesting.
"I'm sorry about your friend. It's shitty. But-.. only Kari would've known how to unlock this thing, right? And you- You said the one who died wasn't your Kari. I'm not saying it's her. Your other friend - Lionel? At the graveyard, I heard him call Father Wolf a 'he.' Yes, I was there when she told you where to go, too, but I don't care about that right now. So far, everyone who's been killed by this asshole has been part of your old group. Unless you still have enemies that aren't dead or gone, that makes it possible that it could be someone who was one of you. Or that someone of you is caught up in this too. Is that Kari? I don't know. But she's part of this now, and if she isn't dead it's obvious she's hiding or being hidden."
”... I don't know why you were acting like I was there,” Britney put a hand on her hip and shrugged. ”If I was there, we would have summoned everyone.” It was stupid for them just to pull the spirits of just three people - especially with the inconsistency with Kari. Alas, not everyone can see more than what is before them.
However, Britney's face contorted as she thought about it. Some things weren't adding up, such as patterns Britney was starting to pick up on. The "kid" was mature and sensible for someone who looked to be about ten. What was extra suspicious was how he survived getting shot and just gave a weak-ass "I got better." Is he really a kid? Is he even human? He could just be some Apparition piloting a kid, which is all types of fucked up. The next thing that caught her eye was the kid practically admitting that they were spying on them.
The final nail in the coffin was what he closed with.
"I don't know what you did to people to make them something they're not, but I know what it's like to be on the other side of that." Cold condemnation sat in his gaze. "If you had done that to me, you'd be dead already. But I'm not her. I don't know what's going through their heads."
”Is that a thr-” Britney cut herself off... Chill, Britney. You have to be the reasonable one here. Britney attempted to affirm herself and calm herself down because the last thing this situation needed were more people flying off the handle. Especially against a kid, even though Britney knew if he turned out to be a kid, she would eat her shoe. So, she kept her mouth shut and observed. Nothing good would come from jumping the gun.
However, when Adora felt the need to go off the kid, Britney didn't need to hold her back.
"Oh, my friend... She's a Pactmaker! And the whole reason Emily G. Reed is a bitter, wretched fucking cunt today? It is because of you, Britney Williams. Because if it wasn't for you and your dirty deeds? She'd be a stain on the pavement of St. Portwell. And we'd all be better off for it... Including my fucking Kari! Now what is my fucking life, Britney!? Empty! I have you people! You! And you know what the worst part is? I never would've known were it not for Kari telling me... The only other woman I thought I'd ever be able to open up to truly is gone!"
Britney was silent.
Not a single muscle on her face so much as twitched.
The most stoic expression she ever had as Kenshiro ranted and raved at her... It hurt seeing someone that she thought so highly of come at her neck.
”... You trying to lowkey - but not lowkey - put the blame on whatever you think happened to Kari, on me, Kenshiro?” Britney said in a completely monotone tone as she stared at him. Britney was done playing nice and keeping her mouth shut now that Kenshiro had come at her first. She narrowed her eyes at him as she just came out and said it;
”Because you do realize that, considering her abstraction and the pattern in the murders, she is more than likely to be Father Wolf, right? Right?”
There it was: the ugly truth in all of its glory. She was putting a target on her back (and it was not the best thing to say to someone who was grieving and emotional), but someone had to say it. Before things could progress further, they were pulled into a Recollection...Britney returned to reality and sighed.
She wondered why Emily would rear her head now of all times. It was ten years without personally dealing with her, and it turned out that Emily was making all of these moves. And it was all her fault. Britney shook her head, as it was becoming dead straightforward that the Coven would Covento deal with Emily sooner rather than later... and it was only fair for Britney to be the one to put an end to Emily's reign of terror.
However, everyone began warning that 8th Street was about to attack, and Britney couldn't help but-
*BOOM*
A massive crash exploded outside, and Britney's eyes shot open as she quickly ran up the stairs. Instead of rushing outside, she glanced through the window to see 8th Street.
Thankfully, nobody bothered Adora while she was nearly ready to fall apart like Kenshiro. She knew that nobody cared. Thus, it was up to her to bring herself back to reality... though it was a pathetic sight for the mighty leader of the Old Coven's powerhouse Trinity, reduced to being curled up in the corner of Kari's basement.
It was not like she had a choice in the matter these days. Her heart fluttered, as she didn't even feel human at this very second.
"Okay... you can do this Adora,..." Adora quietly said to herself between breaths as what everyone was saying was just overwhelming her. She had to focus here, so she affirmed herself. "You're brave, you're loved... You can't fall apart now; you managed to work up the courage to come here. You. Can. Not. Fall. Apart. Now."
With those final words, Adora gathered the strength to push herself to her feet. That wasn't enough because she was still twenty. However, she could stand on two feet as she tried to return to reality. Her pride and ego were too enormous to ask for help, and she tried to focus on the conversation, which faded back into her mind's eye.
"I'm sorry about your friend. It's shitty. But-.. only Kari would've known how to unlock this thing, right? And you- You said the one who died wasn't your Kari. I'm not saying it's her. Your other friend - Lionel? At the graveyard, I heard him call Father Wolf a 'he.' Yes, I was there when she told you where to go, too, but I don't care about that right now. So far, everyone who's been killed by this asshole has been part of your old group. Unless you still have enemies that aren't dead or gone, that makes it possible that it could be someone who was one of you. Or that someone of you is caught up in this too. Is that Kari? I don't know. But she's part of this now, and if she isn't dead it's obvious she's hiding or being hidden."
”... Huh?” Adora raised an eyebrow as she listened to the kid. Typically, Adora wasn't too good with kids—being a woman who does not want any—but a few things in the kid's speech stuck out to her.
"...Yes, I was there when she told you where to go-"
One big thing.
”... Wait, what the fuck do you mean you were there?!” Adora seethed, one hand on her chest, the other on the wall. As she took deep breaths, it was probably evident that she was trying to hide that she was coming down from a full-on anxiety attack, but, again, she was just too arrogant to let anyone here think she was showing weakness. As she looked at the kid, something clicked in her head, and she got mad... It was enough to distract her from her trauma for just a moment. ”... I think I saw you at the grocery store the other day, too! Have you been following me?”
She took a few deep breaths and couldn't hold it in any longer. Before, she continued.
”Kid... that is not fucking cute at all!” Adora said, ”That is sick. You're fucking sick. Stay the fuck away from me.”
Was it wrong to say this to a kid? Probably. But, kid or not, Adora was not in the right frame of mind to be reasonable right now, and she was going to put her foot down. Or up this kid's ass.
However, she was pulled into the Recollection...”What the... fuck...”
Adora hissed as she read the Recollection. As it turned out, Kari (or somebody) attempted to burn the notes that Kenshiro was so obsessed with. What was worse was that Emily was here with her goons... she couldn't recognize a soul there other than Vashti and Greta, but she knew Emily. She was Lisa's bully, and Adora held an irrational hatred towards her. Not only did she harass Kari, but she also looted her house after she died... for some unknown third party. Adora had no clue what was in the notes, but it must be important if Kenshiro and Emily were so obsessed with them - but that raised more questions. Just who could know about the notes? Just who would be willing to pay scumbags like Emily-
However, her line of thought was interrupted.
”... Lynn is almost certain we are about to be attacked by the 8th Street Coven. Be prepared, in case she is right.”
”... JESUS!” Adora's heart damn near jumped out of her chest as she fell to the ground. Jack had appeared out of the goddamn blue and gave this message that went over Adora's head because she was too busy getting her tits scared off - in addition to her other feelings clawing their way back into the fray. Adora grabbed her chest and looked up at Jack, ”... Don't fucking-”
She began before realizing that Jack was already gone—crazy bastard.
Adora shook her head, dusting herself off. She knew bits and pieces about 8th Street, but she also knew that she was not equipped—magically or mentally—for a fight right now. However, like the crazy kid said, Emily might know something about what's happening.
*BOOM*
That crash signaled that it was time to fight.
The 8th Street Coven.
Interactions: The Entire Coven.
In front of Kari's House.
A massive swirling portal opened above Kari's front yard, and seconds later, something fell through it. It hit the ground with a reverberating boom that created a massive dust cloud that obscured its body, leaving its frightening silhouette peeking through the dust and debris for a few moments. However, once it faded, its horrifying appearance was on full display for everyone present. It was a gigantic, towering monstrosity taller than Kari's house. It dripped with a green-brown liquid as its smell was overpowering. It just stood there...
"... Hi, sluts,"
Emily peaked her head out from its legs with a broad smile and gave everyone looking on a sarcastic wave. That was when she stepped from behind it, and following behind her were George and Vashti, and they formed a line in front of the monster. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Aaron, Flora, and Carol (Who was wearing a hockey mask and had a wooden bat with nails withCAROL'S GIRL crudely drawn on the side), and Maya hiding behind its legs just as planned. All of them were wearing various-colored rain jackets and pouches strapped to their hips, and Emily glanced further behind her and saw a circular ice wall condoning off a section of the yard near the treeline. Then, a transparent dome appeared, and Emily grinned.
A drizzle began sprinkling the area. She pointed to Maya, raised her hand, and said, "Volumne up."
And as instructed, Maya raised the volume of Emily's voice so all of these sluts could hear her. She took a few steps forward, but before she could begin her speech...
"... Yo," Aaron caught her attention, taking some final desperate puffs of his cigarette before Vashti's storm made that impossible. He then pointed at the treeline where Drake Blackmore, Sully McPhearson, and Stormy Carson were - and two other sluts she didn't recognize, but long as they stayed over there, they could die for all Emily cared. Then he pointed at the sky, where Ken was... and Emily grinned. There was one person on Emily's mind, and one person only. They had to buy time first, so she finally began her speech as George stood by her side with his arms crossed and a cocky grin on his face.
"... It's been a while, hasn't it, sluts!?" Emily shouted, her voice loud enough to be heard all over the property. "Missed the reunion... Well, I wasn't invited! Well, I wouldn't have come either way - that unfair treatment I received at the Halloween Festival told me I made the right choice, anyway!"
She looked around, grinning like a fool. As she threw the hood up, the rain fell on her hair. "So, I'm going to be quick and to the point; we're not here to fight you sluts. I'm here for one person, and one person only, Lila Blackwood..."
"... AND FUCKING BRITNEY! I'M GOING TO RIP HER FUCKING INTESTINES OUT, FEED 'IM TO CYNTHIA, FIX HER, JUST TO DO IT AGAIN AND AGAIN!"
Carol screamed, stepping from behind the undead monster's leg. Emily just rolled her eyes.
"... And Britney," Emily began, putting a hand on her hip. "So, just hand those two over, and we'll leave you sluts to rob a dead retard's house - do you sluts have any shame or dignity at all?"
After she spoke, she glanced over her shoulder at Aaron... he was their best chance at reacting to any sneak attack these sluts might pull. However, she hoped the other group was doing their job without one of 8th St's leadership around to babysit them... keeping Phoebe and Maya separate was an excellent way to do that.
Emily grinned.
"... Chooooooooooose wisely. Because my patience might run out very fast."
She knew they weren't going to.
And that's where the fun began.
In Kari's Yard by the Treeline...
A considerable distance away, another portal opened, and the first person to step through was Phoebe Carmicheal, holding an empty potion bottle - at the bottom remained some remnants of a glowing blue liquid. When she stepped through, her abstraction was boosted, and she raised her hands and, using her Blizzard-Inferno Spell, erected a massive of ice in an area around them... it was thick enough to stop all but the most powerful abstractions, and if one of them tried shooting through it? They might as well have been throwing pebbles at a tank!
She stepped to the side as the other members of the 8th Street Coven stepped through, starting with Greta Faust, who walked in holding a crate full of glowing potions. Trailing behind her were several of Nadine's minions, also carrying crates full of glowing potions. Then Brianna Wallace, Cynthia, Malik Jakane, and Lee Evans followed through, followed by Nadine, who held a book underneath her shoulder, an oversized rain jacket... and sunglasses. Behind her were two undead minions that weren't carrying supplies but a folding beach chair and a tent. These undead minions erected the tent and unfolded the beach chair. Nadine laid down on it and opened her book... as the Baron materialized beside her.
The last one through was Amy Nakamura, who had the Oni Club strapped to her back and wore a bright yellow rain jacket. He had his hands in her pockets as the portal closed. Brianna raised both hands, and a pillar of light appeared and touched the sky. Out of this beam, a transparent, spinning dome appeared around their makeshift encampment, leaving some space between themselves and Phoebe's ice walls, which was none other than the Teleportation Nulification Veil... one that would ultimately prevent all attempts of teleportation and portal creation.
Lee and Amy stuck close to Brianna, while Malik and Phoebe stuck close to Nadine.
Greta placed the crate down, and Nadine's undead minions pulled out the glowing red potions—Greta's explosive potions—within them and raised them into the air. They walked over to the edge of the teleportation nullification veil, closer to the ice wall, and stood there with the functional hand grenades ready. Greta flipped the crate over, sat on top of it, and pulled out her cell phone—only to notice Cynthia standing over her.
"The Pack Leader told Cynthia to protect Pack Member Greta," she said, getting close. Cynthia will protect Pack Member Greta with life. Eat anyone who gets close to Cynthia and Pack Member Greta."
"Thank you, Cynthia," Greta said. As the rain drizzled over her phone screen, she couldn't help but shake her head. She glanced up at Nadine and Baron. The latter was creating hordes of undead monsters that crowded their section of the makeshift fortress. There had to be dozens already... and Greta glanced over her shoulder and shook her head.
"... She drags us out here for a petty revenge scheme," Greta shook her head. "Don't we have bigger fish to fry right now?"
"Yeah, I know!" Phoebe rolled her eyes, "We could be bullying those Serpent Cult nerds again!"
"Cynthia obeys the pack leader," She said, "Cynthia has no complaints."
"Let's just hope they hand over the bird bitch, so that we can go home," Phoebe smiled. "Speaking of bitch, my bitch is out there!"
"Keep your eyes open," Greta rolled her eyes and wiped her screen. "Someone is bound to try something."
The Recollection faded, and the mere sight of it made Drake wince his head.
Drake had no clue about Kari's notes or what anyone was trying to show him, but he knew that Emily G. Reed had something to do with all of this. He wouldn't be surprised if she were working with Father Wolf or something - that'd be in character for that bitch. Drake shook his head as he focused on what was important: getting Luna the fuck out of here, and he was losing his patience here.
”Listen, I’m not actually angry with you. Sorry if it sounded like it- We can talk about that later, but for now… You saw that too, right?”
”Yeah, I saw that too,” Drake confirmed that he did see it, but ignored the rest of Stormy's theories, because he was hyper-focused on Luna, ”Let's talk about it after we get rid of this spy.”
“How could I face you? You remember how I left. How could I face that again? So, I did what came easy to me. I watched from a distance. I documented the triumphs and tribulations, pretending I was there with you. I watched my family, my home, become rebuilt, and I thought… Maybe it was better this way. It was… easier this way. I realize now it was wrong. It was the wrong way to deal with how I was feeling and unfair to you. Especially given the current… situation. …I'm sorry. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I know why you’re against me. Why you’re against… this. You’ve been burned before, badly, so you’re expecting only bad can come from someone like…”
Drake almost projectile vomited.
This bitch can't be serious! Drake thought to himself as he could only smile at how foolish she was.
“You have every right not to trust me. Heck, I wouldn’t even trust myself. If you want me to leave, I will. But I want it to be put up to a vote.”
Drake immediately created a Voltblade. He kept one eye on Stormy and the other on Sully as he raised it at Luna. ”Nope, I'm good! We're good! You're playing an angle, and we're only going to get burned in the end,” Drake began his speech. ”I don't give a damn what Sully, Stormy, or the rest of the Coven thinks, you got ten seconds to get your ass out of here before I turn you into-”
*BOOM*
Drake was interrupted by a giant monster falling from the fucking sky! He immediately whipped his head around towards it, and was about to jump into action... until he saw Emily G. Reed, and her goons - most notably Vashti. While he was drunk off his ass, Drake remembered some of the things that she said about Jade... and it took every ounce of restraint he had not to lung over there and decapitate her. Drake also eyed the fortress that was suddenly erected... the Voltblade disappeared out of Drake's hand, and he narrowed his eyes as he looked at Luna.
”You wanna really back up your big words?” He grinned. ”Go get rid of Emily and her goons for us.”
After spending a week at his childhood home, a grand manor nestled in the heart of Monaco, Bé found himself utterly exhausted. His mother's relentless demands for his attention had left him drained, his days filled with a dizzying array of social engagements. By the fourth night, he had accompanied her to countless shops, attended numerous parties, and endured several brunches with her affluent circle of unethically wealthy socialite lady friends. But it wasn't until the 7th day that he was finally granted a moment of respite from the whirlwind of his mother's unyielding social life.
However, this brief reprieve was short-lived as news of a potential stalker reached his mother's ears. While traversing through the moonlit corridors of Rochefoucauld Manor, the situation stirred memories of Bé's past encounters in Paris and Geneva, where he was the target of some unpleasant attention. Despite his attempts to downplay the incidents, the Madame's nerves were too wired. And so, against Bé's protestations, she hired a bodyguard to protect him, some ex-criminal imprisoned for protection racketeering, ironically.
As Bé entered his mother's grand bedroom, he looked around for her with those piercing ocean eyes. They caught the starlight that filtered in through the nearby window when he heard movement coming from Madame Vanille's boudoir. He sighed deeply, taking a sip from the teacup he'd transfigured from a thimble earlier before and approached with feathery steps. In truth, Bé had hoped to dissuade her from such extreme measures during his visit to Monaco, perhaps convince her to send that wannabe bodyguard back to the undergrounds of Marseille where he belonged. Well, this dream was all for naught, and Bé would soon discover that his dear Ma-Ma was keenly aware of the latest encounter he'd had at the train station in Nice.
When he entered the room, his mother's back was facing him. A large gilded mirror stood before her as she admired herself in what appeared to be an onyx mink fur coat as dark as midnight. Her dearest handmaiden, Anna, was assisting with the feathery dress that flowed beneath the mink coat, praising and complimenting her beautifully ageless reflection that dazzled with jewelry and fine adornments. As Bé stirred his tea, he braced himself for the inevitable conversation, his quiet gaze fixed on his mother admist the lavender-scented steam that filled the space.
[In French]
"Hello my love. Have you ever seen your dear Ma-Ma ever the more divine?"
"You look, healthy..." Bé said with a cool expression, taking a another sip of his tea as his eyes shifted to the maiden and then back to his mother.
Madame Vanille rolled her eyes, catching his gaze before shooing her handmaiden away. Once Anna was gone and out of earshot, Bé's mother took off the delicate diamond bracelet she'd been toying with and sat it down on the glass display case that housed enough luxury jewelry to end world hunger.
"Healthy is as healthy does." she retorted, looking for something else to try on as she continued, "Now, I hear you got into a little squabble with that stalker of yours while in Nice."
Bé's brows furrowed under his curly locs as he took another sip of his tea. It was about half-empty now and he could already feel himself yearning for another cup. "Is that what he told you?" Bé asked, an exasperated sigh escaping his full lips.
"Something to that affect."
Bé sat down on the nearest chaise and crossed one leg over the other, "Your new hire has quite the lacquacious tongue, doesn't he?" he remarked. Madame Vanille gave a dismissive shrug, so Bé continued, "That is not how the events transpired. Yes, I did encounter the stalk...fan, again." Bé paused sipping the tea, "And yes, he did get a bit handsy, but, there was no squabble. He was just eager. The true matter of the issue is that your serviceman threw him into into the lobby fountain at the Le Negresco hotel. Everyone there saw. It was an utter fiasco, and I can not jeapordize my image with someone like that around. So Ma-Ma, I urge you, please send that brute away, far far away."
Madame Vanille turned on her heels to face him, "Oh my sweeting, this is all the more reason why I stand resolute in my decision. Can you imagine what might have become of you if not for Marceau?"
Bé was unamused by the idea that he needed Marceau for protection. He'd only been in his mother's service for a few months now, and Bé has faired well up until this point. Why suddenly now did he need some overgrown neanderthal shadowing his every move like a stray dog desperate with hunger? Bé sympathized with his mother's fear, but it was not enough to justify the measure.
"Ma-Ma, please don't patronize me. I could have changed that man into a toad." Bé said, sitting the empty teacup on the nearby side table and clasping his hands together. His posture was always so naturally poised and sophisticated, erect like the Hyperion tree he'd visited while on a photoshoot in Los Angeles. This was a man who never slouched. His body simply didn't know how to.
"In broad daylight? For the entire world to see? I think not."
Bé looked away, his throat suddenly dry as paper despite the tea, "I know. I only mean to say that I am no invalid. I can protect myself. I really don't nee..."
Madamoiselle Vanille cut him short, massaging the crest between her eyes with a feeble moan, "Bé, please. You know how swiftly these migraines materialize when you contest me like this. Not before tonight's soiree. Please dear."
--------------------
Back in the hallway, Bé had enough built up frustration to break a mirror. The conversation concluded quickly from there, as his mother simply stopped responding altogether, leaving him to vent to the silent night. Not only had his plan failed, but she'd even guilted him into being her plus one at tonight's soiree at Madame Angélique's. What a nightmare of a woman. When his mother ushered for Anna to re-enter the room again, Bé knew that was his cue to withdraw.
As he ruminated on the moment outside her door, assured that he could have said something else to convince her, he heard the hard clack of steel-toed boots approaching. Bé smelled a faint musk wafting past his nostrils and the offense brought to his face nothing short of a scowl.
It was Marceau, the tatted husk of flesh his mother hired to quote on quote, "protect him". Born in Marsaille to a red light Jezebel, Marceau was an orphan swept into a world of crime from an early age. After spending some time behind bars, job opportunities were limited. And so, what is a man with such a damaging past to do other than enlist in the service of a wealthy Monégasque socialiate.
Marceau seemed confused by the scowl as he approached Bé, "What?"
Bé took a deep breath to maintain his composure and then turned on Marceau as though to reprimand him like a disobedient child.
"I had the situation under control."
"It sure didn't sound like it."
"Were you eavesdropping?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
Bé sighed, vexed by Marceau's callousness, "That is neither here nor there. I'm referring to the fan in Nice. I expressly told you not to inform my mother about that incident. It was a trivial matter, at best. And let me be clear..." Bé paused, letting the heavy silence linger for emphasis as he gracefully caressed an unruly bang behind his ear, "I have an image to maintain. Do you understand what that means, or are you as daft as you seem? You can't go about flinging people into water fountains at every false provocation of potential danger. And most certainly not a fan."
Marceau snorted, "He was getting too comfortable with you."
Bé shook his head, "No, that is what I wanted him to think."
"Well, look, your mother hired me to..."
"I don't really care why she hired you, and frankly, my reputation is more important. You need to understand how this world of glamour preserves its illusion. When it comes to managing fans like these, placation and appeasement is a delicate process of give and take. During these initimate interactions, often the words spoken are meaningless. You have to respond with grace and think carefully bef..."
Before he could finish, Bé looked over the balcony of the main entrance and saw his manager approaching the staircase. Bé sighed, "Nevermind. Have Raphael prepare my regalia for tonight's soiree."
Marceau raised an eyebrow curiously, "So we aren't leaving for Paris tonight after all?"
Bé glared, "Obviously."
As his manager rounded the corner, Bé turned to greet him, his expression like someone whose only wish was to melt into their bedsheets. Bé's manager was a stout man named Tito, an American who shared a striking resemblance to Danny Devito. His appearance always tickled Bé mother, who couldn't help herself whenever she was in his presence. But Tito was as chill as a cucumber, and few things perturbed him.
[In English]
Tito spoke matter-of-factly. That is why Bé liked and trusted him with his career, "That musclehead of yours sure has stirred up some trouble."
Bé sighed with a knowing gaze, resigned to what was likely to unfold, "I know..."
Tito continued, "I've heard through the grapevine that your fan, or maybe ex-fan now, may be preparing to press charges. But don't sweat it. I've got my guys on it, and we'll squash it before sunrise If I can help it."
Bé's lips lifted into a delicate, gentle smile of gratitude, "Thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a soiree to attend."
Tito laughed, "I thought you hated those sorts of things."
Bé chuffed, leaving for his childhood bedroom where his assistant, Raphael, would be there waiting to dress him, "I do."
