Valencia and Isabella Blackthorn sat in the stools at the bar of the Apothecary, sipping drinks. The House of Cards dive was quiet, with men smoking and talking amongst themselves in low voices. Looking to the backroom door would reveal a ‘Closed for Renovation’ notice on the wood, and a locked door.
No one was in a rush to go back there after what had happened with Mother.
Isabella nodded, taking another sip of her whiskey. “Yes boss. Doubled the guard and the scouts. No one will be able to get the sneak on us. Besides, haven't they said their piece? Ball's in our court, anyway.”
“‘Said their piece’. As if you could whitewash what they did.” Valencia's tone was cold, a growl over her smoke.
Isabella was unperturbed. “What I'm saying is you don't have to worry about security. Now, how did your meeting go?”
Valencia was silent for a moment, before losing the whole of her vodka back in frustration. “Bitch was lyin’. Luna's intel from ten years ago was good. I sure as hell have no interest in it, but we gotta look at all our options. Luna said she was able to manipulate dreams. No mention of devices. So why the hell-” Valencia tossed the black cube onto the counter. “-do I have this?”
Isabella picked it up and examined it, then whistled to one of her men. A large, chilled man with his hat pressed low stood at her side. She pressed the cube into his hands. “Have one of the techs pull this apart and put it back together again. Look for any listening devices, trackers, things like that.”
The man nodded and left out the front door. Isabella watched him leave, before turning back to Valencia. “Your contact may have her reasons not to trust you.”
“Yeah, or maybe we're about to get fucked over, again.” Valencia said with a cold tone, staring into her glass.
Isabella stared for a moment before pulling on the brim of her hat. “So we have a healthy suspicion. But we don't act. We both know… how well that went last time.”
Valencia gripped her glass, hard, and in a moment's frustration, slung it across the establishment so it smashed into pieces on the adjacent wall. Isabella watched with an unmoving expression, before turning to the bartender, Mr. Roosevelt, who was staring at Valencia with mild disapproval.
“Sorry about that, Ms. Roosevelt. You know how it is…” Isabella offered.
A quiet hush moved over the Apothecary. Everyone was still in grief. Valencia was simply acting out how they all felt.
Valencia stood from her stool. “I'm going home. Have the cube sent to me when it's ready.”
Dreams were a funny thing. One moment, Valencia was tossing and turning, waiting for sleep to come, an eye on the cube at her bedside, when in another moment, Valencia was somewhere else entirely.
She was at the Apothecary again, but instead of speaking with Isabella, she was speaking with her mother, Phantasia Vorpal. Yes, she'd recognize that wide-brim hat anywhere.
“Valencia, my dear?” Phantasia caught her attention, and she looked up from her drink, and right into her mother's endless pools of pink.
“Yes, Mother?”
“You haven't forgotten, have you?”
“Forgotten what?”
“My life debt. The duty I have to that orphan. You haven't forgotten that, have you?”
“Mom, it's dangerous. It also doesn't make us any money. I want to push us to a new level of wealth this year, and to do that I need all our resources pooled towards that.”
Valencia pressed a hand to her face, rubbing across her mouth as she huffed a sigh. “I can't do that if I'm looking after that little kid.”
“That little kid is part of the legacy of why House of Cards is even around today.” Phantasia replied.
Phantasia leaned forward a bit, resting a soft hand on Valencia's cheek. “Sometimes we don't do things for money, sometimes we do them for honour.”
In a discrete corner of the Apothecary a soft purple light bathed a booth. Anya stepped out next to it, changed into a more simple grey turtleneck and black slacks. The fountain pen in her hand was spun, before her hand dropped to her side. Her lips pulled into a slight smile as she glanced over at Valencia and Phantasia, catching the end of what they said, and she carefully sat down just out of view.
Valencia, unaware of Anya’s presence, focused entirely on her Mother. She pressed her head a little into Phantasia’s cupped hand. “It’s honour that hurt you, Mother. If we had just focused on money, we’d be fine.”
Phantasia softly shook her head. “If I ignored the ones who did us good, we’d be counting cobblestones and wiping the grime off other’s boots. That's not the life I ever would have envisioned for you, my dear.”
Valencia gritted her teeth, “It’s all Edict’s fault. He’s the reason you got hurt, mom. I’ll tear out his throa-.”
Phantasia placed a gentle finger on Valencia’s lips to hush her. “No… No my dear. It’s not his fault. It’s mine. I’m… I’m sorry, I’ve left you to shoulder a heavy burden on your own. But don’t cross those who have done us good.”
“What good, mom!?” Valencia’s eyes twisted up. “He ran to the Dollhouse and whispered your name, and lo and behold, Dollhouse came.”
“They wouldn't have hurt me if I cowered, and gave in to their demands. You must avenge me. Show them that we don’t bend easy. We will continue to do what we want for our people. It’s always about honouring our own people, my dear…”
Phantasia leaned in close and whispered in Valencia’s ear. “Long live the fighters.”
Valencia’s face crumbled a bit, and she buried her face in Phantasia’s chest. She took a few steadying breaths. “Mom, I miss you. I… How are you here? How are you alive?”
Phantasia was silent, merely smiling as she held her daughter. Valencia took another breath, her head hanging limply.
“Don’t tell me… I’m dreaming, aren’t I…?”
Before Valencia straightened, her head turning. She felt eyes on her. “Who’s there?”
Anya was silent, a single eyebrow raising. It wasn’t often that someone caught her when she merely observed - but Valencia did know that she would be looking at her dreams in some way tonight. It wasn’t an issue, really, to be caught like this. As Valencia’s gaze fell on her she smiled, raising a hand in a half wave. ”Apologies, I didn’t want to ruin your reunion.”
Valencia gave Anya a solid stare before looking back to her mother who, curiously, had disappeared. Valencia sighed, slowly standing, pitching the space between her eyes.
“Aye… Just talking to a ghost.” She said in a pained voice.
Valencia took a deep breath before her face set back into its neutral tone, and she approached Anya. “We took the black cube apart. It seems more like a gimmick than anything else.”
She slipped into the seat opposite of Anya. “I think you're more capable than you lead on, Anya…”
”People often are,” Anya said noncommittally. With a smooth gesture of her fountain pen, two drinks formed on the table between them - vodka for Valencia, and wine for her. ”But the box is more than just a gimmick. Without it you wouldn’t have started dreaming so early. Orange lux infusion. You wouldn’t find that out by taking it apart.”
She picked up the wine glass with her free hand, raising it slightly. ”I suppose I should give the magical explanation, then… Though I’m sure Luna has already told you. Simply put, I can enter and manipulate dreams. That box merely aids with that. It’s quite a pain having to try multiple times to enter a dream that hasn’t started, you see.”
Valencia stared for a long moment, her face not changing as she observed the drinks come into form. As Anya spoke, Valencia reached out and circled the rim of her cup with a finger, before picking it up.
“So it seems…” Valencia stared at the clear liquid in her glass, before her gaze rose to Anya. “I was wise to bet on you.”
She took a sip. Yep, the taste was the same, if not better, than the real stuff.
She set the glass down and leaned forward. “So here's the deal. I got someone I'm gonna need you to meet. Then go into their dreams and manipulate them to glean as much information as possible. Maybe scare the shit outta them too.”
Valencia propped her elbows on the table, resting her head on her hands. “Does that sound like something you would be up to, Anya?”
”It would, with some conditions,” Anya smiled, not seeming surprised by the request at all. It was what she’d expected going into it all - and only beneficial to her to get information from both sides. ”I want a guarantee I won’t be put in danger, and that I won’t be dragged into any conflict. I have enough to worry about on that front as it is.”
She paused, taking a sip of her wine, before putting it on the table in front of her. ”Who is it you want me to meet and manipulate?”
Valencia was quiet for a moment before she pulled a carton of cigarettes from her pocket, satisfied they had made it into the dream. She clicked a lighter, and smoke rose in puffs around her face.
“You have my word, you won’t be put in danger.” She said, before the cherry tip of her cigarette glowed with another inhale. Smoke curled around her face as she rested her head against the hand holding the stick, eyes unfocused for a moment before they locked onto Anya.
“You would meet them at a peace negotiations instigated by us. You’d be in disguise of course. Once you’ve met them, you’d choose their leader at the target, and start peering into his dreams. That’s it.”
She rolled her head slightly, taking another puff on her cigarette before she dropped this next bit.
“Your target would be those at Dollhouse.”
The Dollhouse? Anya covered her slight reaction with the rim of her glass, taking a long drink of wine that tasted far nicer in a dream than outside. Well of course. Based on what she’d glimpsed within this dream, the Dollhouse had killed the House of Card’s leader… well, the previous one. No wonder they wanted information and dream manipulations. Revenge born from love was a strong motivator.
Such a stupid, dangerous one too.
”Seems simple enough,” Anya inclined her head, as if she didn’t have an idea of the danger the Dollhouse could pose through Greyson. In a way, this was beneficial to her - whether she passed on useful information to Valencia or not, having an in to the Dollhouse’s leaders dreams was a step towards her shared goal with Greyson.
”So long as you keep your word and ensure I’m not put in danger, I agree. So long as their leaders dreams, I’ll get you information from his dreams.”
“Then we have an accord.” Valencia said, reaching her hand over the table to shake. Anya smiled, also reaching over to shake Valencia’s hand.
“When I wake, and you tell me what you saw here, we will discuss a suitable fee. Half then, half after you've given us details of his dreams.”
”Perfect. I’ll see you in the morning, then. Enjoy the rest of your sleep.”
Anya stood, fountain pen drawing a smooth, purple light through the air. Then, she was gone.
Sunday, 9:00 AM
The Hearts Club Casino
‘The casino that never sleeps.’
That’s what word on the street was about this place, with its neon-glowing signs and busy parkade. Within its gleaming revolving doors, one would step into the front foyer that would open up into rows and rows of slot machines surrounding a bright stage. On that stage, a singer was singing the blues, her voice a warm rasp over the sound of pulling levers and whirring machines.
Upon Anya’s arrival, her instructions were simple. Talk with any one of the attendants, and be escorted to the third floor.
At exactly nine on the dot, Anya stepped through the revolving doors. She wore a dark red blouse tucked into dark slacks, taking off her thick wool coat as soon as she was inside. An eyebrow raised as she glanced around the place. Normally, somewhere like this wasn’t her scene… but for a meeting it was best to do it on their ground rather than her own. She was too useful for them to hurt, and she didn’t want to risk bringing them to her business.
After the momentary look around, she approached an attendant, gave her name, and was led up towards the third floor.
Very efficient, she had to give them that.
The attendant opened the door to one of the offices, where Valencia was seen wearing a dress shirt, dark satin vest, a silver-blue ascot, and dark slacks. She had her chin propped on a desk, staring at a computer screen and a bunch of papers, when her eyes flickered to the door. She gestured with a hand to the seat in front of her desk.
“Come have a seat, Anya.”
Valencia finished typing on her computer before turning off the screen and pushing it aside, curiosity in her eyes.
“So… what did I dream about?”
Straight to the point, as with the other meetings. Anya liked that. She smiled and sat down. ”When I entered, you were talking to your mother. I won’t repeat what I heard, unless you want me to. Then we talked. You told me that you want me to go into the dreams of the leader of the Dollhouse, to manipulate them, after you bring me along to a peace meeting. Is that enough to confirm I was in your dream last night?”
There was a faint glimmer in Valencia’s eye, and a wolfish grin spread across her face. “That’s perfect.”
She opened the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out a ledger and a sheet of paper. The paper she placed in front of Anya, with a bunch of legal jargon written across it. The ledger Valencia had in her hands, flipping to a new page. While looking at the book, Valencia passed a pen to Anya.
“Now, there’s just a quick form I need you to sign. A non-disclosure agreement. Essentially, you don’t say a word about the goings on here, and we have a fruitful business relationship.”
Valencia looked up, “Sound fair?”
A frown tugged at the corner of her lip, and Valencia added, “I also need to know what you think your time and effort is worth for a task like this. Name your price.”
Anya picked up the paper, beginning to carefully scan through it. She read every word, checking for any loopholes or special clauses. It appeared to be a normal, non magical non-disclosure agreement. Perfect. Something like this wouldn’t hold up for discussions within dreams - after all, what judge would believe that?
She smiled, taking the offered pen, but putting it down immediately. Her fountain pen was pulled out from her bag and she signed the NDA with a flourish. ”Of course, I understand.”
Anya pushed the form across to Valencia. ”I would like to ask something of the same in return. Don’t mention my involvement to the Sycamore Tree members you're in contact with. Quite frankly, I don’t trust Greyson- Edict, that is. And Luna… well, technically she isn’t part of the coven at all.”
It was a lie, of course, when it came to Greyson - but one she kept up around practically everyone. It was much easier that way… And she’d speak to him about this herself later.
“Consider it done.” Valencia said, her head rolling slightly. “Do you need it in writing?”
”Verbal agreement is fine. As for my price… ten thousand for this job. You won’t find anyone else to do it for you.”
Valencia kept her reaction off her face, instead turning her attention to her ledger, scribbled something in side, and closed it with a snap. The ledger and Anya’s form were placed back into their respective drawer, and a cheque book was removed. Valencia gave her fingers a quick lick before opening the book and flipping one page up, tearing it cleanly. Her pen wrote in cursive, quick strokes across the small sheet, before flipping it over to sign the back.
She looked up, her eyes veiled pieces of flint as she passed over the cheque. It had five thousand dollars written up for her.
“Half now, half when you give us some information.”
Valencia looked up at the clock. “When we organize the peace negotiations, I will contact you again. Remember, you’ll need to be disguised.”
Her head tilted. “Any questions for me, Anya?”
”Not for now,” Anya smiled, taking the cheque and slipping it into her bag. They had discussed their terms and come to an agreement, and the job entailed was agreed the night before. Any information she needed on Dollhouse… well she had more accurate sources.
She stood, smoothing imperceptible wrinkles in her blouse. ”I’ll contact you if any come to me, otherwise, we’ll meet again for the peace negotiations. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”
Valencia nodded, a slight wolfish smile pulling at her lips. “The pleasure’s all mine. Take care, Anya.”
Another dreary autumn day. Except, this day wouldn't be like others. No. Today had the potential to change the future, for better or worse.
Layla found herself walking up the steps to the Temple, dressed for the occasion in a loose blue sweater dress and thick stockings. It almost looked like she was ready to go to church. And maybe she was.
Regardless, her hand hovered on the heavy doors to knock, before she pursed her lips, hand dropping, and instead entered outright.
Entering the warm wood floored chapel at this time of day was like opening the door into a library. Vines and plants were growing through the roof, and buckets sat beneath them as vague water dripped down into their basins at a snail's pace. The gentle noise echoed through the hall. And there, among the oak and the banners of orange and white, a woman sat in a dark, plain. It was thick, made of heavy fibers, and hung off her frame and the raised platform from which someone would typically speak with a weighty look.
Like wearing curtains. Her black hair and dark makeup sucked up the light around her, or at least it gave the impression of doing so. But black lipstick parted, and blue eyes shone out at Layla to mirror her own. ”Little Sister comes home…-” the woman gently spoke. Her body shifted, and she slid down to stand upright at the other end of the aisle. ”Layla Hyacinthus, if I’m not mistaken? Can’t get past that striking hair, or your cute little doll-like figure. Welcome, welcome back! We’ve missed you around here.” she finished.
”Lynette Hunter-Richoux.” Came the thought.
Void's little voice in the back of Layla's head hadn't gone away. It had only grown louder in the ghost's long absence. Once upon a time, Void had told Layla a little about The Temple, and Layla, naive as she was, never thought she would ever talk with them, much less be worlds dependant on them.
And now, here she was. In the home of the Queen of Light. Layla couldn't help but shiver as she hesitantly passed the pews, moving towards the pulpit of the church.
“Yes… Yes, that's right.” Layla spoke softly, holding back the ache in her chest. It was a mixture of heartbreak and a lack of medicine that would still get the better of her late in the night. But she just had to mask it for a little bit…
“Lady Richoux…?” She started, standing across from Lynette. “I'm… I'm here about…”
Her head lowered. “....Void.”
The woman shook her head, slowly walking forward. ”Oh, my Dear… We do look alike, don’t we? But, you’re not really remembering things clearly. Not from that night.” Her grin was wide and her walk was slow. ”My name is Alena, but everyone just calls me Lena. I know, it’s terrible… All the faces, all the names. But, you’re looking for Her Grace? She’s surely aware of your presence, so in the meantime… Would you care to pray with me?”
Lena’s voice never wavered or broke the tone she started in, except to accentuate her question as if to tempt her on the tip of a fork with some kind of treat.
“Oh- my apologies.” Layla said, blinking. They really did look similar, and her memories from that night were something she actively tried to suppress. So, the mix-up was understandable.
Now came the bit she was expecting. She could feel dread sinking somewhere in her black hole of a heart, somehow drowned out by the plethora of other emotions present in her system. In the back of her head, a voice rang out that she was the perfect candidate to target as a new cult member. The vulnerable and weak were always great targets.
But maybe, maybe, she could welcome the tease, the testing of the waters that Alena put forth. Maybe.
So, Layla dry-swallowed, and nodded her head. “You’ll have to teach me…”
Alena was, if anything, poised and purposeful. She’d learned to use her entire body as a directory tool, a natural at guiding the eye and the mind toward a “logical” conclusion through motion and intuitive queuing. All she had to do was take a single wide step, which her heavy dress covered to make it look like she was gliding. She pivoted on her foot, almost sliding into place next to one of the pews.
”It’s not terribly difficult, I don’t think. You just need to have faith in your heart, and love in your soul.” One of her hands had made such a smooth and seamless transition to daintily holding the back of the chair that it almost didn’t seem like it moved. Like she was just a wooden statue the same color as the wood, and blending in with it.
”Come, sit and close your eyes. Clasp your hands together, like the neediest child in the smallest box. For, when speaking to God, you must appeal to the Feminine: The Masculine will not hear you.”
Layla watched with transfixed eyes. Alena moved in such a pretty manner, it was hard not to stare.
And there it was. Yet another chair beckoning for her. Layla could only remember too strongly what events came forth from the last time she sat in a Temple chair. She pulled at the fabric of her sleeve, her nerves subtly making a display. Another swallowing of the lump in her throat, looking from the chair back up to Alena.
The way Alena seemed so self-assured, it was hard to resist. Before she knew it, Layla found herself with her back comfortably pressed into the back of the hair. Her gaze played across the pews and woody hues of the church before they slid shut, and she clasped her hands in front of her, as instructed.
As Layla got comfortable, Lena’s position shifted to lean over the pew above the young woman. She cleared her throat. ”Whenever I pray, it goes a little something like this.-”
”-Mother, be still and hear your Daughter’s wails from the desolation in this purgatory. I beseech thee relieve me of the pressure and pain, and the Agony of this unfair and unjust world in which we live. I beg of you, with the makeup I wear caked like your ugliest clown child, my lowliness bare and poised at your feet. I beg of you your cradling hands, comfort me and allow me to take from what you may provide!”
She paused. The pew creaked as she craned her neck down closer to Layla’s ear. Her voice became lower, and deeper, until there was no woman left. It was growling, guttural, full of throat.
”And then, when I know I have Her attention? I typically ask for what I want… So, ask, Haunted Lamb. And I will protect you from your Demons.”
There was buzzing in Layla’s mind. A terriblesomething that demanded to be heard, demanded to be released.
Layla had never been the praying type, not with her history. But, maybe those unsaid prayers added up after years. Maybe all those cries in the night that went uncomforted came back. Maybe the darkness in her soul that hid the child that watched her family and home be burned down could finally speak.
And so she spoke. Softly at first, barely a whisper. Holding her hands tighter in their clasp.
“Mother… I have been hurting for a long time. I cry to no one of the pain I feel. But maybe, if you’re listening… Help me ease a bit of that pain. Help me regain a bit of the power I’ve lost. I’m tossed on the shores of other people’s desires and whims, on their designs and their plans for me, that which only benefits themselves.”
Her voice rose a bit, eyes squeezed shut.
“Every time, I am left to pick up the pieces of my soul on my own. I… There was a short time I had strength, I had freedom,- all of that. I felt like Layla!”
Her voice rose a bit more, filling the room.
“When I was betrayed, I lost everything. Mother, please! I beg of you, restore to me what I have lost. Restore to me my former glory, my strength. Free me from being this shaking leaf of a woman, not fit for even a serial killer’s blade…”
And she fell quiet, her hands moving to press against her face, to cover her shame.
Lena let the girl’s voice echo through the empty chapel. They hung in the air, letting the sound bounce around as she trapped it closer and closer. And then, silence.
”That’s good… You want control. But she’s never given anything to anyone who hasn’t earned it. Do you think, maybe, that you’ve come back to us for the chance to earn it?” Her voice was still consumed by whatever was changing it. Like her throat was a meter wide, or made of gelatin. It wobbled in its impossibly deep bass tone. ”She’ll let you. I know she will…”
Layla couldn’t help but shiver, feeling strongly that she wasn’t just speaking with Lena anymore, but something more. She was afraid to open her eyes, afraid of what she might see. So she sat still in her chair, holding her hands together like they were a lifeline, a way to be free.
“Yes,” Her voice was soft once more, penitent. “Whatever you ask, I will do it.”
”Then you will listen to my apologies for that awful night, Sweet Girl.” That voice. It penetrated the cold echoing around Layla and filled it with warmth and friendliness. Love. Safety. ”You’ll hear my sorrow. The loss of Alizee, and the grief of that damned Mafia. Their hold on her, and on you… And poor Void Heart.”
A finger slipped under Layla’s chin. Opening her eyes would reveal they’re no longer in the Chapel. Rather, a soft field of grass. A beautifully warm day in the meadow. Lynette Richoux’s face looked up at her. ”Thank you for coming to talk to me, Layla…” She was dressed in pure white, two golden orbs hovering over her head like an abstraction of a crown or a halo. ”We’ve missed you.”
Layla’s mouth fell agape as she beheld Lynette Richoux. She was breathtaking to see, mixed with the other-wordly scenery. To call her ‘Lady Richoux’ almost seemed to fall short, so Layla instead opted for what she heard Alena say.
Her tone was full of awe. “...Your Grace.” Before Layla blinked, and her bottom lip trembled.
“It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I shouldn’t have let Void do whatever he wanted. It led to friends betraying me, trying to keep me safe when all I wanted was to bask in the strength I’d received. I was selfish, and now I’m alone. So bitterly alone…”
Her head bowed a bit. She listened to the rustle of wind through the soft grass, felt the warm heat on her skin. She thought of Void, and her eyes misted over. It took a long moment to find her voice again, but when she looked up at Lynette, her voice broke.
“I know he’s here, Your Grace. I… I know he’s here… Please… have pity on me.”
Lynette shook her head, a singular rivulet of tears falling from the corner of her eye. ”But you must already understand that what you're asking for cannot be so easily undone.”
The illusion around them was somewhat shifting. A table became present, and on it was a banquet meal. It looked hot, fresh, delicious. Just prepared, steam climbed as the silver domes were pulled from the trays. Each had some facsimile of the Void Heart, tiny versions of him each dancing across one plate or another platter.
”I see the future. I see Void Heart, his predatory nature thriving in the New Eden. And you serve him, nothing but a vessel. Hollow, empty, and no longer yourself to enjoy that strength. Troublingly, I saw the same future for Alizee; only, that was all I saw. With you, I see… More.”
The illusion was more like a movie playing in the background. Looking past Lynette, perhaps exactly how she wanted, would show the table changing. Layla could watch herself sit down at the table, and Alizee sat next to her. Lynette came next, and then… Leon? No. He was, somehow, bigger than Leon. Massive. Like a real life giant or golem or something. His dead eyes looked down at the plate, the little phantom of Void Heart dancing atop it.
In unison, all four beings took of their plate the small phantom, and in turn each would devour him whole. Alizee faded away, a look of sorrow overtaking her face, and the other two became stone. Layla was free to stand, and the weight of a crown made of the Void itself sat atop her head.
”If we were to give him back, to release him from his prison, he would be weak. Extremely weak, and at our mercy due to the nature of our rituals. It would become your duty to steward his recovery. By eating, and by doing so in a healthy, regulated manner. You must control him, no matter how tempting he is, no matter how charming he is. He. Is. A. Devil. And he must be a tool for you, not the other way around.”
Layla listened, staring hard at her own reflection - the girl with the Void crown. Was it really possible? Could she really be the one in control, having her strength to wield how she pleased, instead of the other way around?
She paused briefly, her breath frozen. She thought of Luca and his Rot, an unfair pairing. She thought of Luna and what she knew of her abstraction, and they never came across as having power fights or that Luna struggled in any way.
It meant it was possible to live, breathe, be real, yet still be tied to a being from the darkness. To have them be a part of your mind and soul, and not be overcome. It was possible to hold your head high, and wield your power as a Queen, not as a servant.
A burning feeling entered Layla’s heart, a feeling she didn’t understand, but it caused her to straighten her back, to settle her shoulders square.
“If you were to release him, you have my word that I would be the one in control of him. We would live here, under your watchful gaze, if you would allow us.”
She thought of Void in her mind, growing in size, as high as a skyscraper, looming over her. Her face was grim, pushing aside the fear in her heart as she reached out, and shattered the illusion. Void wouldn’t rule her. Not this time.
“If you were to release him… I would be one of your faithful children…”
Lynette breathed in deeply. All at once, the illusion faded. Lynette was pressed in between the next pew and Layla’s knees, hands holding the girl’s as she looked up with gentle eyes as blue as Layla’s own. Another hand brushed her shoulder, trying to comfort the poor girl. ”You will learn. You’ll learn that the petty creatures who cling to you now like a prized milker are little more than gnats. Pests. You’ll live with them, until you no longer fear them. And once you come to that place? Then we will return what is rightfully yours to command. And you will be one of us. One of mine.”
”You will be a Crone. A dear sister, and powerful. Nothing like what happened to you with the Sycamore Tree will ever happen again.” Lena’s voice spoke from behind her, like it had when the prayer first started.
”And it will be the same people who did what they did that will praise you for the changes you’re choosing to make. For becoming so much stronger. They’ll all love you more for it, Layla.”
Layla blinked, a hot tear rolling down her cheek. Then another. She sniffed, gently removing one of her hands from Lynette's to wipe a sleeve over her eyes, grimacing as she tried to hold the relief back.
“You know I've… never really had someone say that… really.” She said, a wet smile pulling at her face.
She swallowed once, then nodded, eyes glancing from Lynette to Alena. “I'm ready. I want them to be proud of me… and… I want you to be proud of me too.”
Lynette stood slightly, pulling Layla into a gentle embrace. ”I already am! And soon, when they see you doing better? They will be too… But most important of all, sweetheart… In New Eden’s Dawn, you will sit atop a throne of your own. And then? Then, you will be proud of yourself! And we won’t let you fall… We’re here.”
Luna sat in one of the booths on the right side of the Elder Lamb, nursing a small cup of sake with its matching bottle. Not that she planned on slamming another one back, not that you were suppose to slam it back. But there was a lot on her mind.
Her eyes didn't bother glancing around the room. She knew she had men in the booths with eyes and ears open, ready to swoop in and save her if hell broke loose again, and another attack happened.
She didn't care. It didn't matter. None of it mattered…
In one fluid move, Luna swallowed the sake in her cup and poured herself another glass, waiting for her contact- for Greyson, her friend, to arrive.
After the meeting at Auri’s flower shop, Greyson was well aware that he couldn’t just let people go around making decisions. Between the Void Heart situation, and now this, House of Cards was starting to look more and more like a liability in his profit sense. But that didn’t mean they weren’t family. As he pulled into the parking lot, he made it clear to the men with him that they weren’t going to be repeating what happened here the last time. Ergo, the men stayed in the car while he entered the building alone. He figured he’d find Luna in Phantasia’s favorite spot, and made for it directly.
He saw her there, alone, and scanned the place for any sign of trouble. A couple faces stood out at a nearby booth, mostly from the funeral. Her security detail. Everyone needed one these days. ”Luna…” Greyson’s voice rolled forward. He didn’t sit, standing before her in wait for her to offer the spot. ”Are you holding up okay, sis?” he asked, his arms extending as if to hug her.
Luna looked up at Greyson, her face betraying a tiredness that only the grieving knew. She stood and gave him a hug. An old friend was finally here.
“I'm alright, I'm alright.” She said, clearing her throat and gesturing to the booth seat across from her. “Please, have a seat.”
Luna had an extra sake cup, filled it, and passed it over the Greyson. She tried to think of anything except the last time she saw him, which was at the funeral. So, she opened with something unrelated. At least, marginally unrelated.
“Tayla came to me… Told me you were in trouble with the Dollhouse.” She said, looking down at her sake before taking a sip.
He almost crushed the sake cup in his hand. ”Doll-what?” Cool, cool. Be cool. The mantra rocked through his brain like an earthquake that halted his motor function before instantaneous course correction. His head tilted slightly. ”It doesn’t really ring too much of a bell. They’re like, Cartel, right? Magic cartel or something? Kind of a fruity name.”
He tapped the little glass off the table, raising it. ”Kanpai, Sis.”
”Kanpai, brother.”
He let the liquor aerate between his lips, slurping gently and tasting the unique notes that came with good sake. His tongue smacked around for a moment as he took in breath, letting more air rush across his taste buds. ”But, speaking of the rumor mill, you’ve suddenly become a big topic at the Sycamore Roundtables. You been stalkin’ Adora?” he asked, doing his best to power the redirection into a new state. A grin came over his face. ”Get any good pictures?”
Luna smacked his shoulder across the table. “Hey, we're supposed to be talking about you, not me.” It was one of those rare moments where she'd actually smile.
Her smile fell flat a moment later. “Tayla was seriously worried. Told her I wouldn't do nothing till both of you talked about it. A common enemy is a common enemy though, ain't it?”
She smirked.“Play dumb all you want.”
Sue leaned back, eyes leaving to scan the interior of the Elder Lamb. The humor in her face slowly turned to an unpalatable sadness.
“They really don't care for me, after all these years… Do they, Greyson?”
A cold snort passed through her nose, her head turning to look at him. “I did, by the way. A Sycamore-Greenwood alliance sounds mighty fine. Maybe it'll give the hardheads in the group, like Drake, more sense.”
He shook his head at her, not entirely sure about whether or not Drake Blackmore could get much more sensible. Some people just lived on low points. ”Listen… They were talking about killing you. I’m not gonna let that happen, Luna. And I’m certainly not going to put you in the crossfire irresponsibly. So, whatever Tayla told you? I need you to forget it. And then we need to get our stories straight, because I’m supposed to be spying on you for people who don’t trust you.”
This time he finished his pour without the extra tasting. He didn’t care. ”So, what’s with the cursory photo taking? Are you looking for people concerning the Void Heart beef?” he tried to cut through their matching upbringing to get what he needed to get. It wasn’t something he wanted to press her on any more than she wanted to be pressed about it, surely.
Luna's eyes narrowed. “So you're interrogating me? Is that what our friendship’s been reduced to?”
A quick chug of her sake, allowing the burn to scorch her throat without tasting it, before she set it down firmly on the table. “And you're asking me to forget about those-who-shall-not-be-named? They took my mother, Greyson. I'm more invested in this than you, now.”
The fire in Luna's eyes simmered as her face downturned. She propped her elbows on the table, resting her cheek against clasped hands. Her eyes had that faraway look to them.
“...There are many reasons I take my photos. Just like there are many reasons why Sycamore is unlike any other group in the world.”
Her eyes flickered up, a hint of sadness in them.
“But yes, it's for the Void Heart. Partially. Any information I can get, I need. If, for example, Jack Hawthorne decided to hole himself up in his little Void pocket and cut off all ties to the outside world, I'd want to know…”
Greyson took a long, deep breath. ”I’m not here to interrogate you. I love you, Sue. Even before the Sycamore Tree, we were causing trouble together. You’re more of a sister than the ones who I share blood with.”
He extended both his hands across the table, offering them to Luna. ”I give you my palms! My open hands, for you to know that I’m not lying when I tell you that we can’t pursue it right now. If You-Know-Who are involved, then I think they’re involved in much bigger issues that we’ll need to address as a Coven. As one big family. And that includes the both of us! Which means holding back on our bad habits… Don’t you think?”
Luna stared at Greyson, before her lips twisted, and she hurriedly tossed down another mouthful of sake. “I hate it when you get like this, Greyson. You know I can’t refuse a brother.”
She was steady with another pour, starting to feel the sake spin around in her head. It took the edge off, just a little. Staring down at the liquid in her cup, her lips pursed, unwilling to give in to his wholehearted demands. Before she sighed.
“Fine. No more spying. And we won’t make a move against them. It’d be suicide right now, anyway.”
They had other plans, but they were in different avenues entirely. Luna sat there, somewhat satisfied she could agree to this without lying.
“...You… really think they’d have me back? You said so yourself, they want me dead, Greyson.”
Greyson’s hands clasped together as if he were tossing up a prayer to Heaven. ”Yes, Dude! Yes, they’re afraid of you because they’re afraid of our association with our Families, Suzie… And I know it sucks being told that the way you live isn’t right. But you and I both know that we’re capable of doing terrible, terrible things to people. But we have to channel that differently.”
He poured himself another cup of sake and gave her another as well. He held it up in the air. ”Things are different. They can judge us, they can be leery, but you know what? We’ll be so fucking useful that they won’t be able to deny us. And when we’re done? Dollhouse is next. And to the Brothers and Sisters who help? Square a piece. As is in the Old Country. Salute e Kanpai…”
Luna’s expression softened at that. “Salute e Kanpai…” And she tossed back another cupful of sake.
She was feeling pretty good in that moment. Good enough to move on to the next task of the evening. Meetings were for more than plotting out next moves. They were for business-business too.
She leaned forward, letting the sway in her head do the talking for her. “Useful. Yes, that’s right. And speaking of being useful, my Fam actually asked me to see if you’d be free tonight. Late, around the wee hours.”
Her eyes glanced to the side. “We’re uh, sending down a group to do some questioning at Veni, that strip club. We might need someone who can read a mind to glean info that’ll be useful for the Sycamore… to our Coven…”
Luna’s face turned pleading. “This could be my big ticket in, finally. Please, Greyson. It’d mean a lot of you could do this for me. And of course we’d pay you.”
He narrowed his eyes slightly, listening to what Luna was saying about spying on Veni. On Wolfpack? He knew that Judas had been killed, and that the club itself was a wreck. But he owed Tayla. If there was any chance that Dean was there, Greyson wasn’t going to hesitate to make sure that was one less scumbag on the planet.
Leaning in, he cleared his throat. ”Right, right… Veni. Where Alizee died, right? The uh, the Wolfpack stripclub?” He furrowed his brow, trying to think about it. ”It may be a little risky. What the hell were you guys planning on doing?” he asked, erring on the side of caution for these sorts of things.
Luna’s head tilted, and she propped an elbow on the table, resting her head. “We got a tip some of the strippers have info. Good info. The only issue is getting them to talk.”
Her other hand gestured across the table, and she nodded at Greyson, “That, my brother, is where you come in. No one can lie to you.”
She waved her hand in an effort to disperse his worries, lazy confidence in her tone. “No one’s gonna know you were even there. We’re planning on doing the questioning off-site. You got nothing to worry about.”
Edict nodded. It wasn't the best idea to be spying on people who were just as likely to be connected to Dollhouse as him. But, he figured Luna and the House had at least some sort of ability to cover him.
”There can't be any chances for them to spot me, Sue-Loo. They could be just as leashed up to Dollhouse as I am, and if I'm discovered… It's bad news, dude. Seriously.” He nodded to her regardless, taking a breath and thinking about what he was getting into. He cleared his throat. ”And… Compensation. Not immediately, but, I want you to start thinking of allocating funds toward an ‘Oh Shit’ policy. In case things go really far south, and people need your help. Got it?”
The relief that flooded Luna's face was strikingly apparent. She nodded. “Of course. We'll have them blindfolded. They won't even know you're there.”
Darkness colored her face as he brought up Dollhouse again. “Those bastards…” Her chin jutted out defiantly. “Nothing's gonna happen, brother. You have my word.”
Her head tilted, and her eyes slid to the sake, and back at Greyson as he spoke. A pause as she absorbed what he said.
“...People being you, the Devola Family, and the Sycamore, yeah? Consider it done, my friend.”
She paused, before her brows knitted solemnly. “What are you gonna tell Sycamore…?”
Picking up the bottle, he felt it starting to get a little low. Still, he poured another drink for the both of them. His head shook, and he closed his eyes. ”There’s nothing to tell them. You know too much already; you’re in danger, and if you know what’s good for you when it comes to Them, you’ll forget about it until we’ve had a chance to maneuver. Then we’ll get revenge for Auntie P.”
Luna stared for a moment, before she felt herself resign, and nodded. “Very well. I'll follow your lead on this one.”
She glanced at her filled cup, shrugged, and offered a “Kanpai.” before tossing it back. She considered that she'd have to try standing, and wasn't really looking forward to it.
“We could talk for ages, but I think that's all the business I had to discuss.” Luna started, before throwing a few crisp bills on the table and slowly making her way out of her seat.
The world spun so very strongly, and she gripped the table. Her men noticed right away and came to her aid, supporting her.
“‘Till next time, Greyson.” She said in passing, before the House of Cards exited the building.
“... So, while you were beating up Sycamore,” Luis asked, holding up a femur bone, “Three Apparitions came to attack you all?”
“Yes,” Greta said. “That one nearly burned me alive.”
“It’s weakshit, though,” Amy groaned, crossing her arms. “I could beat its ass with my arms tied behind my back.”
The Dollhouse leadership met with various members of the 8th St. Coven in their VIP room. Luis and Natalie were sitting on a couch, Heinrich stood over them, and Shaquita was by the door. Casually standing there and overlooking the whole scene as the 8th St Coven stood across from the Dollhouse leadership, sans George, who was standing up holding Carol’s dead body underneath his arm in one hand and the axe in the other, and Amy who leaned up against the bar with her arms crossed. However, Jacqueline and Miranda looked to be very uncomfortable.
“They came with Tsukino Inuoe,” Amy noted. “I’m not sure if Sycamore finally sold out to those House of Card dumbasses.”
Luis laughed.
“... We know they haven’t,”
“Thanks for finding our axe, though,” Natalie leaned back in the seat, laughing. “Ten-k right there!”
“Wait, really?!” George laughed. “C’mon, it’s gotta be worth more than that.”
“You got it twisted,” Natalie laughed. “It’s ours, big boy, we’re giving you a lil’ finders fee!”
“What if I want to keep it?!” George taunted, flexing his muscles.
“... You best remember where you are and who you’re dealing with, boy,” Shaquita said from the background, narrowing her eyes. “Try something, and you’ll regret it...”
“I’d love to see you-”
“George!” Jacqueline said. “Just give them the axe…”
“Fine,” George said, handing the axe to Natalie, who gave it a playful slash in the air like a kid playing with a toy.
“But, since you all worked so hard to get the axe,” Luis said. “We’ll give you all an extra five-k on top of that, so you’re getting fifteen-k.”
“Not a small amount of money, I say!” Natalie added.
“As for the Apparition…” Luis rotated the femur bone. “We’ll need to speak with our… Appraiser.”
Natalie sucked in air.
”STEPHANY!”
A few moments later, the door opened, and a chubby woman with blonde hair and glasses came into the vip section with a smile. She waved at everyone as she walked in, “Hi everybody!” She chipperly said as she walked over to Luis.
“What is this Apparition, and what do you think it’s worth?” Luis handed the femur bone with Bahlaas to Stephany.
Stephany took the femur bone with Bahlaas sealed within it, examining it closely with a curious smile. Glowing white runes floated inches above the bone before they disappeared, and Stephany explained, "Oh wow, this is quite a find! Bahlaas Riil, huh? She seems like quite the fiery character," Stephany remarked cheerfully, adjusting her glasses. "Her Abstraction, Embers, allows her to conjure flames and sparks. Very handy if you ever need a light!" She added with a chuckle.
"What's the appraisal, Stephany?” Luis looked around at the Dollhouse leadership and the 8th St Coven members. Stephany tapped her chin, "... Considering the strength of Bahlaas Riil's abilities and the fact she’s from the Void, I'd say she's quite valuable," she began, pacing a bit as she thought. "I'd estimate her worth around fifty thousand dollars, give or take. Of course, her actual value could vary depending on whether or not you intend to use or sell her." Stephany explained with a smile.
Luis turned back to Jacqueline and Miranda and said, “So you all are getting sixty-five thousand.” He grinned. “That sounds fair, right?”
The Reed sisters nodded their heads.
“Good, now, I’ll arrange for your payment in cash-
Heinrich put a finger up to his lips and made a shushing sound.
“Oops,” The stranger said as the portal closed behind them, “Am I interrupting something?”
“Look around, Ezekial,” Natalie rolled her eyes into her head.
“You’re welcome to stay, however,” Luis said. “Could you do me a favor and grab sixty-five thousand for our guests.” He gestured towards the 8th St. Leadership.
Ezekieak laughed.
“I just got here, and you’re already bossing me around!” He shook his head as the portal opened back up, and he floated back into it. “I’ll be right back.”
After a few minutes of silence from the Dollhouse leadership, and the chattering of various 8th St Members, Ezekiel returned with a briefcase under his arm. He placed it on the table, clicked open the hatches, and revealed the cash within.
"Here you go, sixty-five thousand in cash," Ezekiel grinned, gesturing towards the money. "Count it if you like, but it's all there."
Jacqueline opened the Expert’s Book, and after a few moments, she nodded at Miranda and said to the Dollhouse leadership.
“... Thank you.”
She grabbed the briefcase, and the 8th St Coven left. Natalie grinned at Luis.
“... To the Funhouse?”
He nodded.
The Dollhouse Funhouse :)
Deep within the catacombs of the Dollhouse… Funhouse. Barely lit by a makeshift electric system where portable generators provide all the power and illumination. Luis, Natalie, and Heinrich marched alongside Shaquita, Stephany, and Ezekial behind them. Where were they going?
A large chamber, where Dollhouse’s “Programmers” stood in a circle in the center of the room. There were various faces, but the most notable was a tall woman with white symbols painted on her skin… wearing a suit. Luis walked past them while his companions held back, taking various positions around the room. Luis placed the femur bone in the center of the circle.
“Adaobi,” Luis said, and the woman with the tattoos perked up. “You know the deal, I want to talk with the Apparition. If she doesn’t comply, then deprogram her.” Luis spoke as he took the Dollhouse leadership’s side.
The lady nodded as she fell to her knees and began singing a chant. Then, the femur was surrounded by a glowing blue mist. Slowly, Bahlaas rose out of the bone; however, she was bonded by ethereal glowing blue chains.
Luis walked up and clapped,
“… Hello there!” Luis began. “It is great to meet you, Bahlaas!”
Being sealed was an unsettling experience. It was suffocating, crushing, and ensnaring in infinite darkness.
All of that changed as blue mist brought In the light, and eased Bahlaas out from the darkness. She sucked in air, not that she required to breathe, but it helped shake off the feeling of asphyxiation.
Her eyes adjusted, and immediately a sense of unease welled up in her. She was surrounded by faces, none of which she recognized. Instinctively, she tried to run, only to realize she was chained down, with only enough give to kneel in the center of a circle.
Confusion turned to haunting dismay, until she heard a voice. She looked up as a bearded man approached her, and although he was handsome, she couldn't help but feel dread just from being in his presence.
Her painted face morphed into a frown as her fiery eyes showed hints of fear.
“...Where am I?” She demanded. “How do you know my name?”
“You’re in our…” Luis trailed off, waving his hands in front of him as if he was trying to figure out the words to say.
“... Our ‘Funhouse’!” Natalie shouted, laughing.
“That.” Luis said before gesturing to Stephany in the background. “And we know all about you because of our… Appraiser.”
“Hi!” Stephany waved at her.
Luis then clapped his hands and said, “So! Long story short, after 8th St sealed you, they sold you to us, Dollhouse. So, let me ask you a question…”
The room was silent except for Adaobi chanting. The tension was so thick that it could be cut through with a knife.
“Did you, a mighty Apparition from the Void, lower yourself to what is essentially a petty gang fight to help some wannabe Capo?” Luis put a hand on his chin as he stared at Bahlaas. “Why?”
The revelations coming through the pipeline sent a chill down Bahlaas's spine. What was she now, some sort of glorified prisoner? Her brother would be furious if he heard.
At Luis's question, she swallowed nervously, bowing her head slightly. “I did. I was listening to my brother. He said he'd made a deal with the girl, would get us some delicious bodies if we helped. So… of course, I helped. I wouldn't have wanted my brother mad at me, anyways…”
Luis paused momentarily, “... What do you need bodies for? To eat?”
“Oh God, Luis,” Natalie groaned, rolling her eyes. “We have enough man-eating monsters.” After she spoke, she jabbed a thumb towards Ezekial.
“I only eat the souls,” Ezekiel shrugged, leaning up against the wall
Bahlaas tilted her head, worry flashing in her face, “Yes, to eat. But I can subsist on blood only, bodies are more like a… delicacy. I have a preference to sweet blood - my whole family does… Is that… really so strange?” She said, confusion in her eyes.
“... You’ll get diabetes!” Natalie shouted, laughing her ass off.
“That’s not the strange part; you like what you like,” Luis crossed his arms with a shrug, taking a few steps off to the side. “What I’m wondering is how the House of Cards will help you? Those incompetent goons barely understand the full scope of the mundane world! No less the magical one!”
Luis laughed deviously before it went flat, “At Dollhouse… we have it all. And we can get you your ‘sweet blood’ without you having to lower yourself to fighting Emily G. Reed’s goons for it like some drug addict...” He rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, ditch those losers,” Natalie laughed. “Dollhouse is where it’s at!”
Bahlaas gave a half-hearted tug at the chains holding her down. “My loyalty was never to the House of Cards. It was always to my brother…”
She paused, before her eyes shot to Luis. “Wait. You're… asking me to join you?” Her firey eyes narrowed. “What's the catch?”
“The catch is that you work for us,” Luis answered.
Her eyes glanced around the room, before she sighed, her gaze dropping to the chains holding her. “I mean, of course I'll work for you. You paid for me, after all… Haven't you?”
She tried a smirk. “You even won't let me ‘starve’… Not a bad deal, I'd dare to say.”
“Not only that,” Luis grinned. “We’ll provide you with a body to use… if you choose.”
Luis steepled his fingers as he said,
“... I just want to meet this brother you speak of and see if we can convince him to our side.”
“A body?” Bahlaas's eyes widened in unbidden excitement. So he knew it was hard for her to be in the Shimmer without an anchor. Plus, it could be used as a food source. “...Yes, yes that would interest me. A lot.”
She nodded her head, her excitement increasing a bit more. “Of course, and I know exactly where we can find my brother. He'll be with Layla. Layla Hyacinthus, the ‘sweet one’.”
Luis grinned, looking over his shoulder at Adaobi, “Adaobi, release her!”
With a nod of her head, Adaobi’s chanting intensified, and at its crescendo, she screamed. The ground began shaking as the chains around Bahlaas shattered, and the femur bone exploded. Bahlaas was free, and Luis extended his hand to shake.
“… I’ll have Ezekial over here talk with your brother,” He began, before looking over his shoulder. “He knows a little bit about the Void.”
He rolled his eyes in the background.
Bahlaas stood with a happy sigh, grinning as she shook Luis’ hand. Her eyes followed his to Ezekial, and she nodded. “I know the address.”
Her grin widened, excitement burning in her eyes. “I can't wait to start working with you.”
Hagan Rosefey's Interlude.
The Streets of St. Portwell. During the war with the Stygian Snake.
The Old Coven...
A shadow dragon soared over the skies of St. Portwell... below him was absolute chaos as the Old Coven fought for their lives against the neverending tide of the Stygian Snake's army. It let out a roar as it flew through the skies... as it soared through the air, dove low opened its maw, and unleashed a jet-black stream of fire that incinerated anything unfortunate enough to get caught. Friend and foe alike. After it finished its defacto-carpet bombing, the dragon took a hard left and came around for another volley. It opened its mouth...
"... NOW!"
A voice screamed from underneath as a young Hagan, wearing a black robe, was launched at the dragon from below. He swung his magical anchor at the dragon when he was in range. He hit it directly in its lower jaw and slammed its mouth shut, and it let out a screech of pain as it was sent careening off course. The dragon crashed into a building and utterly demolished it as its momentum carried it forward, leaving a trail of displaced stone and dirt before it stopped.
Hagan fell... before he came to a sudden stop, floating peacefully in the air. Before he dropped some more, he stopped and kept going until he reached the ground without shattering every bone. Caelea was right there, and he stuck his hand out to give her a high-five.
"... I told you it would work, squirt!" Hagan shouted.
“Fuckin’ pathetic lookin' fall,” Caelea snorted, stretching up their arm to slap Hagan's hand. She kept it held out. “Well fuck me, I said you could fuckin' hit me if it somehow worked… c'mon, I ain't got all day. Fuckin' hell, I can't believe it worked.”
Hagan grinned, cocking his fist back, but the crackling of electricity next to them served as a cold reminder to bring them back to reality.
“... Hey! Can you two idiots focus?” Claire O’Sullivan said, with Zoey Gray at her side - with her hands out, crackling with electricity.
Hagan turned towards Claire, throwing the anchor over his shoulder. He heard some buzzing over his shoulder and saw that weird girl’s flying spider with some people on it. He rolled his eyes before he poked Claire in the chest and said,
“Who you calling an idio-”
The dragon stirred itself back up, looked over its shoulder, and breathed a fire at the group. A light-blue aura surrounded Claire as she stepped in front of the blast. She tanked most of it effortlessly, looked over her shoulder at Hagan, and shouted.
“... Idiot!”
Before she took off towards the dragon, Zoey stuck her hands out and fired a massive bolt of lightning that sounded like the earth had split apart, creating a massive flash before fading. Hagan grinned at Caelea and said,
“Yeet me!”
Then he paused, face going flat.
“... Again.”
“Fine,” Caelea rolled her eyes. A light shimmer of air appeared around her body, and she angled herself down a bit. Then she slammed her hands into Hagan's back with an explosive blast of air to launch him into the sky. He screamed as the dragon fired black fire… and the fire badly burned his leg. However, he managed to get the Anchor into the dragon’s eye, and it loudly roared and thrashed around, spraying fire everywhere as Hagan held on for dear life.
“This is the part…”
Hagan shouted as he was getting swung around.
“... Where you shoot the damn thing thing!”
“I don't have. Any. Fucking. Ranged spells!” Caelea shouted as she flew through the air, foot slamming into the side of the dragon's neck with an intense blast of air. She then launched herself off and towards its face and Hagan, floating just above its head. “Heh, need some help gettin' down?”
]“... YES!”
A bright blue light could be seen in the distance as Zoey screamed.
“WHATEVER YOU’RE GONNA DO! DO IT! OR IMMA SHOCK THE FUCK OUT OF BOTH OF YOU!”
Caelea rolled her eyes at Zoey, getting in close to Hagan and grabbing him from behind… as much as she could when she was so tiny. She used a blast of air to launch them both away from the dragon, hurtling towards the ground, before another blast stopped them from crashing back into it. She very unceremoniously let him go, dropping the last little bit as she lightly landed beside him. “There. You owe me.”
Hagan grinned, holding the Anchor in his hand. “... Well, hey, I never said ‘you owe me’ whenever I saved your pale-ass!” Hagan laughed.
That massive bolt of lightning came out of Zoey’s hands and hit the Dragon, and it faded away into nothingness. Claire walked over to the two of them and dropped her barrier.
“... You two are fuckin’ crazy,” Claire said.
Caelea shrugged, cracking her knuckles. “Fuckin’ boring to take this shit too seriously. If I ain’t destroyin’ these ghosts I’ll go back to beatin’ his ass anyway.”
“Hehe, you wish, squirt!” Hagan said as he stood up on his feet. “You’d get defeated by the top shel-”
In the distance, there was an explosion of debris, followed by the Stygian Snake bursting out of a building… it let out a primal, guttural scream. Hagan just pointed at it, looking at Caelea.
“If you’re so tough,” Hagan laughed. “Go fight Stiggy for us!”
“Sure,” Caelea rolled their shoulders, not seeming scared [i]at all[i]. “You just stay watch like a fuckin’ pussy, alright?”
She clapped her hands together, before launching herself up to a building to their right, perching on the edge, clearly watching the snake. Though she did hold out a hand to flip the three on the ground off. Hagan flipped her off right back.
Claire pulled out her walkie-talkie and said,
“Um, fuck, what are ya’ll called again, fuck it! Headquarters!” Claire shouted into the walkie-talkie. “The Stygian Snake is in South St.Portwell. Advice.”
”Run,” Anya replied very succinctly. There was a pause. ”Ah wait, you’re with Hagan and Caelea, they won’t. Just let them fight it until the Trinity gets there.”
“And if those two idio-” Claire asked before she was interrupted.
“... LET ME SOLO IT!”
Hagan shouted, holding the Anchor over his head as he charged it head-on.
“You know what?” Claire sighed. “Copy.”
Zoey grinned at Claire as Hagan rushed in to ‘solo’ the Stygian Snake… it wasn’t long until Hagan was launched back at them, skidding across the floor and displacing dirt and concrete. He got back up, and swung the anchor at its darkness tentacles.
”Hah, the Snake just fucked your ass!”
Caelea shouted from the rooftops, before also launching herself at the Stygian Snake… She was a little more successful at not being immediately launched back, darting about it before finally getting smacked through the air, flying over their heads and landing with an explosive blast of air.
Hagan activates his immobility as the Stygian Snake whacks him with a massive tendril, then whacks it into the distance. It faded away into nothing.
“SUCK MY DICK, SQUIRT!”
Hagan laughed as he threw himself at the Stygian Snake.
“... Should we help?” Zoey asked.
Claire shook her head.
“Let these two have their fun,” Claire answered.
The two continued to fight the world-ending monstrosity that cut down many of their Coven sisters and Coven brothers.
Before the final battle. The Old Coven's Lair.
Michael found himself in the same spot he found himself most mornings after a night of fighting, down in the entrance hall to the lair reading a book. He was waiting for his friends to finish up with some tasks and walk home with him. It’s not that Michael disliked walking alone, but with everything going on he was terrified at the thought of somehow running across a monster during the day while alone. At least with Evelynn she could check ahead to ensure they’re safe, and Jasper would be able to protect them with his summons. Michael flipped the page and sighed. The book wasn’t good, but he was now halfway through it and figured he needed to see it through to completion.
“... What’s up, nerd!?” Hagan shouted with a grin as he yanked the book out of Micheal’s hands. He looked at it for a moment, “Reading books in here? How about instead of reading some books, you get you some bitches?”
He threw the book over his shoulder.
Michael instantly sunk into himself. Fucking Hagan. There were two people Michael hated running into, and Hagan joined George in that group. He was a bully, and Michael was an easy target for the bullying. All Michael wanted to do was go home, play with the makeup he managed to get from his grandma, and decompress before the sun retreated once again. He needed his relief from the constant pain, suffering, and this feeling of being small. Something inside of his mind whispered that enough was enough, and that he needed to learn how to stand up for himself. That this would only stop if he made it stop.
“Hagan,” Michael stuttered out and instantly it cost him any steam he had built up, “I had a long night. I just want to relax.”
“Long night doing what?” Hagan laughed as he walked around Micheal. “Talking to birds? Sucking dick? All your fuckin’ good for it seems.”
*caw*
One of Michael’s crows spoke its displeasure from above at the words spoken below. Michael was taken aback by the last question. While he was still figuring things out, and had told a few people within the coven of his questioning nature, word had still gotten out despite his request to keep those disclosures private. It was new ammunition that the bullies could use against him. Still, Michael counted his blessings that it was just that which found its way to the coven's bullies and not his own desire to not be called Michael, or his disdain for his male identity.
“Please leave me alone,” Michael asked as he tried to stand up. He wanted to grab his book and leave. Hagan grabbed him by the collar and threw him to the ground.
“... Or what?!” Hagan laughed. “You gonna run and cry to Ashley? News flash, she don’t give a shit about no one but her crew!”
That strange voice once again told him to stand up and stand up for himself. It wasn’t his own voice but it felt intrinsic to who he was. He could tell that the voice was feminine, much alike the voice he heard whenever he thought to himself but felt different enough. Was this his internal desire to do better, finally showing him that he did not have to deal with this bullshit any more? It has to be. This has to be a sign that Michael was ready to be strong, to be brave, to not deal with bullies.
“Fuck off.”
Hagan reached down, picked Micheal up with both hands and pinned him against the wall.
“... Suck my dick, Micheal,” He said before punching him in the stomach.
Michael instantly felt every sense in his body regret that initial decision. This is why he didn’t stand up for himself. This is why he stayed quiet. Yet, there was a distant feeling that began to creep towards the front of his mind. It was a sense of happiness. He’d never stuck up for himself, and if felt good despite the searing pain he felt. So intense was it that it caused tears to start welling in the corner of his eyes. Pressed against the wall, Michael tried to squirm out of the oppressive hold he found himself in.
“Ooooooh!” Hagan laughed, “You’re crying now?! I’m about to give you something to cry about!”
Hagan shouted as he threw Micheal to the ground and then began savagely pounding him.
Post-Stygian Snake. The Old Coven's Lair.
Night had fallen.
The only light Hagan had was the massive campfire, which was only a few feet away. It was very… atmospheric. Hagan sat on a log next to it, the Anchor in the ground at his side, as he sat there with a fist to his chin and the rest of the Old Coven before him.
Ashley walked up in front of the crowd, Auri and Daisy at her side.
“... Alright, I know a lot of you have been having problems with Hagan,” Ashley gestured to Hagan, and he flipped her off. “So, I wanted to call it to a vote: should we keep Hagan part of this Coven or not? You know the deal: just say yes or no and leave it at that. No need to add any stories or digs at Hagan.”
”... No,” Kari was the first to say, and she sat next to Elsa.
“No,” Elsa added.
Hagan rolled his eyes. He knew Emily G. Reed had been voted out earlier. Surely, these idiots wouldn’t jump straight to voting him out because he was just a little mean.
”No,” Britney said.
”Nah,” Drake leaned against the tree, steepling his fingers until Hagan’s eyes landed on him, and he threw Hagan the peace sign.
“No,” Lionel nodded his head.
“No,” Victoria said.
“I abstain,” Lynette said.
“Hell naw,” Amanda laughed.
”He goes,” Stormy said.
“I abstain,” Greta said.
”I abstain too,” Luca said. Olivia nodded her agreement to that beside him.
“No, he's out,” Jinhai said.
”Hell no!” Linqian said, immediately after him.
“Bye-bye,” Samantha said, giving Hagan a wave.
“No,” Vanessa and Clementine Washington said at the same time.
“No,” Amy said.
“Abstained,” Sage Pimm said in a high-pitched voice.
“Out," Trisha scowled, bees buzzing in sync with the single word.
Luna rolled her eyes, standing behind Hagan. “He's out.”
Layla glanced at Aislin, before mumbling a ”No.”
Aislin had a sympathetic look in her eyes, and sucked in a breath before shrugging. “I abstain.”
“I abstain,” Nikki said.
“No,” Jade said.
“No,” Paige Auclair said.
“That settles it,” Ashley nodded before turning to Hagan with a pointed finger. “You’re out, Hagan.”
“... Aw, this is bullshit!” Hagan shouted as he hopped up to his feet, pointing at Britney. “None of ya’ll votin’ her out!? I broke my fucking back for you all, and this is how you repay me!?”
”Shoulda acted your fuckin’ age, boy,” Amara commented, cleaning Apparition gunk off of a knife.
Hagan shook his head.
“Know what? Fuck ya’ll,” Hagan started, as he grabbed the Anchor and threw it over his shoulder. He turned to walk away. “I don’t want anything to do with you losers anyway! Have fun with the circlejerk.”
“... We want back the Anchor,” Ashley flatly said. “It was a loaner for you to help us. You’re now bullying us with it.”
Hagan flipped her off with his free hand.
“Fuck you,” Hagan walked away.
“... Get that from him,” Ashley pointed at the rest of the Coven, and Hagan immediately turned around on his heel and grabbed the anchor with both hands.
Jack appeared behind Hagan in a puff of black smoke, just out of the reach of his swing. ”Don’t make this worse than it has to be, and we can go easy on you.”
“Look, bro,” Hagan looked at Jack. “Are you really cool with her jacking my shit after I did all that to help ya’ll!?” He threw his hand up into the air.
“This ain’t fair at all!”
”We aren’t asking you whether or not this is fair, Hagan,” Jack hissed. ”You knew you would not keep the Anchor forever. Now, I’m in a very poor mood right now, so do you want to hand that thing over peacefully, or am I going to have to test my newest spell on you?”
From off to the side, Amara was slowly reaching a hand into the pocket of her sweatpants, for the gun she kept there.
“Know what?!” Hagan barked before he charged Jack with the anchor in both hands and swung it full force.
“YOU CAN GO TO HELL!”
Jack scowled, and simply ducked under the swing, lunging towards Hagan with his shadow hand, which took the form of a pointed blade, pressed firmly against his throat just firmly enough that it wouldn’t kill Hagan.
Not unless he pushed his luck.
”DROP IT!”
Hagan grinned, staring down at his shadow hand.
“... You forgot I took a hit from Stiggy, didn’t ya’, Jack?” Hagan said as he swung the anchor at Jack again.
Jack hit the floor, ducking further down then the last swing, and turning his hand into a whip to drag Hagan’s legs out from under him.
”That makes two of us. At least I learned something from it!”
Ailsin watched on, her heart rate spiking. At this rate, Jack could get hurt. It was best to get what Ashley wanted, and quickly.
She glanced at the fire, and it began to animate strangely as two flames broke off, soaring through the air as Aislin commanded them forward. Each flame struck Hagan’s hands in an attempt for him to drop the anchor.
“Just stop, Hagan!” “Aw, fuck!” Hagan screamed as he hit the ground and finally dropped the Anchor. A trail of undead hands forced their way out of the ground and carried the Anchor from Hagan to Ashley’s hand.
“No!” Hagan screamed.
“Jack, get him out of here,” Ashley commanded.
”I tried to warn you,” He said, rising to his feet. Tendrils of darkness slithered out from beneath Jack’s clothes, and began dragging him over away from his weapon.
He planted a hand firmly on the fucker’s shoulder, and then they both vanished.
Aislin grimaced as she watched, and the flames dispersed into the air—one less problem for the family.
Jack had teleported Hagan back into the rainy streets of St Portwell… and the rain-soaked Hagan was defeated and mugged by the people he did so much for. Fuck those guys. Fuck them all! They can all kiss his ass! He’s going to go and get his artifact back and punch Ashley square in her sweaty pussy! He was going to show her who’s boss! He was going to show everyone who was boss.
Tears flowed from Hagan’s eyes as his fist pounded against a fence.
“Crying isn’t manly,” Hagan said through gritted teeth, though his words were hollow (probably because he was talking to himself). Powerlessness has taken hold of Hagan the first time in a while, and he hated it. He had been defeated, stripped of his artifact, and tossed to the streets like some dog!
But that was going to change.
The wooden fence post shattered with one final punch, and he was brought into his Kindling Event…
… He didn’t need the Anchor, after all.
Present Day. Seattle, Washington. 2 AM.
A door was thrown open.
A girl wearing a tank top and leggings stepped out with a tote bag slung over her shoulder; Hagan, wearing only black pajama pants and some sandals, held the door open for her and laughed.
“... Thanks, babe,” Hagan said as he smacked her ass on the way out and grinned as he walked his way back up the stairs of this ratty apartment complex. It smelled horrible and had dealers and crackheads lining the halls, but it was home. He walked to his door, threw the key in, opened it, and closed it behind him… though, did he remember to lock it? Not that it mattered because he was just walking down the stairs to show her out, and then he was back in his apartment. He walked over to the fridge, threw the door open, went straight for the bottle of whiskey, popped the top, and then threw it back. After enough, he used his free hand to wipe his face and returned it to the exact spot he had in there.
Hagan walked through his dark apartment; the only illumination was from the streetlights outside. This place was a rathole, but at the very least, it was better out here for dealers like him as opposed to the streets of St. Portwell. Not as nice looking, though, but it had the same amount of homeless people lining the streets! Didn’t matter to Hagan, though, because he was done with St. Portwell. He was done with the magical power struggle that city seemed to be caught up in 24/7. He was done with “Covens”. Most importantly of all, he was done with the Pack. Hagan flopped onto his bed, closed his eyes, and dozed off.
“... Hello, Hagan,” He heard a voice, and his eyes shot open immediately.
It was Shaquita Walker.
Dollhouse bitch.
Standing over top of him, staring at him.
How the fuck did she get in?!
“You owe Dollhouse some money,” Shaquita began. “But, I’m certain we can work out som-”
“... FUCK YOU LADY!”
Hagan screamed as he activated his Great Barrier, an orange wall of magical energy that shot at Shaquita at extremely high speeds and launched her through the wall. She flew into the next building, but given her reputation, Hagan knew she wouldn’t be down for long. He hopped out of the bed,
“... Shit, shit, shit,” Hagan quickly grabbed a Spider-Man backpack, ran to the vent next to his bed, and surrounded his fist in a barrier. He punched through it, letting out a metallic screech… and behind it was the jackpot. Oxy, heroine, fent, and other pills, and he quickly shoved it all into his bag. Alright, he just had to get to the bathroom….
He heard Shaquita’s feet land towards the opening, and his head turned towards her and saw her grin. That wasn’t a good sign, and Hagan threw his hand out and created a barrier that blocked Shaquita from himself as he ran into the bathroom, threw the tank open, and stuffed the goods he had in his backpack. Shaquita casually walked over to the barrier, cocked her fist, and then punched through it as if the barrier that tanked bullets was made out of styrofoam! Then, she walked past it as if she were some Terminator.
Not good, not good… he reached into his bag, yanked out a sawed-off shotgun, and leveled it with her face the moment she got close and pulled the trigger. That explosive boom shredded all the skin off her face, and Hagan stuck his shoulder out and launched himself at Shaquita like a rocket. The two of them flew through the air before colliding with the wall of the opposing building, creating a cloud of dust and debris. He hit the ground and whipped around on his heel towards his prized possession.
His bike.
Hagan took one step towards it and felt a hand on his shoulder. Glancing over, he saw Shaquita as good as new!
“... That was rude,” she said before she punched him square in the face and sent him stumbling backward. However, he caught himself as Shaquita walked towards him with her arms behind her back, still grinning.
“How about you just stop for a moment and let me-”
Hagan created his Chain-Whip, a glowing orange chain made out of barriers. He swung it upwards at lightning-fast speeds, and Shaquita casually dodged it, moving just as fast. He swung it again, this time horizontally, and again, she ducked before it could even reach her. Okay, this isn’t going super duper well; she was still marching towards him faster than he could backpedal. Screw this. He looked up at the street light, attached the chain whip to it, and activated charge to launch himself onto the store's rooftop across from his house.
Like Spider-Man.
Hagan hit the rooftop but immediately heard Shaquita behind him It looked like he would have to fight out of this one. He whipped around, swinging the chain whip with momentum, and Shaquita ducked under it again all according to plan, as he charged her, launching himself at her like a missile and pinning her to the ground. His hands were covered in barriers as he unleashed a lightning-fast barrage of punches directly to her face. Pummeling her, but not shattering her skull like they should-
A geyser of blood came out of her body, and launched Hagan across the rooftop, flipping through the air… he created a great barrier in his path and smashed against it with a splat before unceremoniously sliding down. He was covered in blood, and so was Shaquita. He climbed to his feet and wiped it off… before looking up and seeing Shaquita standing over him. She swung her leg to kick him, and Hagan created another Great-Barrier that tanked the hit - but it cracked.
“Just let me-” Shaquita tried to say before the barrier launched outwards and sent her sprawling across the rooftop. Hagan hopped to his feet, and Shaquita did the same.
“Hagan,” Shaquita tried to say. “You can’t beat me. Use your head.”
“Fuck you, lady,” Hagan shouted as he threw the chain whip over his shoulder.
“I don’t even want that money back,” Shaquita began, putting her hands up. “I just want you to hear me out.”
“I said fuck off!” Hagan shouted as he swung the chain-whip at Shaquita at lightning, and she grabbed it. She yanked it and pulled Hagan off his feet towards her, and she charged him with her shoulder and slammed it against his face. Breaking his nose, some teeth, and more, and then she swung him around, slamming him onto the ground and spinning him around - he skidded along the floor until he cut the spell and came to a spinning stop.
“Hagan,“ Shaquita said. “I’m not trying to kill you.”
“Well, I’m trying to kill you!” Hagan shouted as he began yelling, surrounding himself with a faint orange glow; the ground began shaking as the glow became a disruptive energy field. One that flew around him like a wild tornado, and he grinned at Shaquita. “Come at me, bitch!”
Shaquita just shrugged… before she reached into her suit jacket, pulled out a Browning M1911, and then fired two shots. The first one missed, but the second one hit Hagan right in the abdominal region. He groaned as he stumbled backward… before falling off the room into a dumpster.
“... Shit,” Shaquita hissed to herself. “I did not mean to do that…”
“... Fuck.”
Hagan shouted as he forced himself out of the dumpster… he was bleeding. Badly. Blood and other fluids he didn’t recognize. However, he managed to get up, and keep fighting. He held his stomach, stumbling forward through these alleyways. He had to get out of here… he couldn’t go out like a bitch. Not like this. He stumbled against the wall, bracing against it with his arm, and took a few deep breaths. His hand was covered in blood - he wasn’t going to last long at this rate. Yet, he was going to keep fighting. He stumbled forward…
“... Oooooooh, Hagan,” He heard Shaquita’s voice like a witch taunting him. “I didn’t mean to do that, Hagan. Stop running; I can save you before you bleed to death…”
Fuck that. Hagan defiantly thought to himself as he escaped the maze on alleyways and made it to the nearby park. It wasn’t long before Hagan collapsed against a nearby bench and fell over…
Everything went dark…
He closed his eyes…
“... Oooooooooooooooooh, Hagan,” Shaquita spoke, and his eyes opened, and this crazy bitch was sitting on the bench over top of him. Grinning. She touched his forehead and said, “Let me in. Let me in if you want to live…”
“F-fuc…” Hagan groaned as he felt her pound against his Emotional-Field.
“You’re dying,” Shaquita said, “Just let. Me. In.”
Hagan groaned one last time before he let Shaquita in, and that bullet wound began closing, and all that blood and intestinal fluids were replenished, and that bullet came out of his body. It went into Shaquita’s hand, and she stared at it for a few seconds before tossing it aside like it was some trash.
“Thanks, lady?” Hagan said.
“Stay on the ground,” Shaquita commanded. “Will you comply now?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Good, because my patience is running very thin after all of that,” Shaquita began, narrowing her eyes at him as she stood up. “If you had just heard me out from the beginning, we could have avoided all that...”
“Sorry, I figured I’d go out swinging!” Hagan laughed.
Shaquita stared at him.
“Yes, dying on the ground,” Shaquita mocked, “Some way to ‘go out swinging’.”
“Suck my dick, lady.” Hagan hissed.
“No, thank you,” Shaquita said as she stood over Hagan. “Now, let’s talk business… you are aware that Judas Bennet is dead?”
“Wait, really?!” Hagan raised his head, only to get a glare from Shaquita in return.
“Stay down,” Shaquita commanded, and Hagan laid his head flat. “Yes, after a confrontation with the PRA, Judas Bennet was killed by their personal Superman, and Dean Walker assumed control of the Wolfpack over Valjean Vasil.”
“I mean,” Hagan shrugged while staring up at the stars. “That ain’t a shocker. Val can’t lead worth shit.”
“But that’s not it,” Shaquita began. “Dollhouse wouldn’t care about some inbred group of bikers, but we made a special deal with Judas… We gave them some Apparitions to do whatever with, and in return, they would occasionally do some jobs for us. Muscle.”
Hagan thought it was weird that Judas was giving out ghosts like candy, but he left the Wolfpack around that time. That was when the Nazis came into the fold…
“However, Dean has been showing some behaviors I find… concerning. I don’t feel as if he’s suitable for having our Abstractions or leading the Pack,” Shaquita let her words hang in the air before she continued….
"Mr. Rosefey, to provide some perspective here..." Shaquita flatly said, her facial expression not changing one bit. "... The factions are beginning to unite. The PRA have their personal Superman flying around. Emily G. Reed and Vashti Nour think the city is their playground. Blake Schmidt and his rich cronies are gearing up for something big. We suspect Berlioz Auclair has one of the most dangerous artifacts in the All-Verse in his possession, one that can destroy entire dimensions if wielded foolhardily. And the Vorpals will light the powderkeg due to their collective incompetence at this rate... and the most important thing to him is some useless junkie."
Shaquita rolled her eyes.
"... I have a feeling that he's going to interfere with our actual plan when push comes to shove," Shaquita said with a grin. "If it were up to me, we would have given that junkie to him so he could just get it out of his system already - Oh, wait, we can't. The old man thinks we can play both sides." Shaquita put both of her hands on both sides of her hips.
"Wait, you mean Tayla?" Hagan asked. "She's with ya'll?"
"... For now," Shaquita shrugged. "Luis promised to protect her and even gave her a fancy new Abstraction. But, in the end, we need Dean and the Wolfpack more than we'll ever need her..."
Shaquita walked a circle around Hagan before suddenly stopping.
"What did you tell Judas when you left the Pack?" Shaquita asked.
"... I told him as long as there was a single Nazi bastard in the Pack, I wanted nothing to do with them, then hit the door," Hagan answered.
"I'm glad you have no trouble sleeping at night while trafficking drugs and women, but white supremacy is just beyond the pale for you," Shaquita cracked another grin. "It's touching. It really is."
"Fuck you, lady!" Hagan hissed at her, and she laughed.
"Well, guess what, Hagan...?" Shaquita asked, crossing her arms and putting a fist to her chin. "The Nazis packed up and left. Followed Conrad God knows where. They probably knew their days were numbered with Dean in charge, so they decided to show themselves out..." She shrugged.
"So, to get to the point, I'm giving you the deal of a lifetime," Shaquita began, looking down at Hagan. Before she casually shrugged. "We need a fallback if things don't work out with Dean. That fallback will be you; you will pack your things, return to St. Portwell, get in Dean's good graces, and gain influence within the Pack. So, if Dean continues this unsettling pattern of behavior and gets himself killed or arrested, the Pack won't fall into the hands of Valjean Vasil and his sister." Shaquita shook her head.
"And before you get any ideas, no, you do not have a choice in the matter, Hagan Rosefey," Shaquita began. "If you say no, I'll tear your head off right here, and right now, head back to St. Portwell and enjoy a nice bath with a glass of wine and a book..."
Hagan was at a loss for words; this was a ton to process! Did this bitch think he could lead the Pack? He was only a grunt before! It always has been before he lacked the brains to do anything more with himself!
"Lady," Hagan said, and Shaquita gave him a menacing glare - one that told him that she was going to kill him with as most effort as it would take her to snap her fingers - before he added, "Do ya'll really expect me to run the Pack? Me? I'm not Judas, y'know!"
Shaquita looked down at him and said.
"... We know," She began. "Only Judas is Judas. And he's dead now. So we're going have to make due."
Shaquita stuck her hand out for Hagan to shake.
"... Do you accept?"
"Well..." Hagan finally sat up, "... I don't have a choice, do I?"
He took her hand and firmly shook it, and Shaquita smiled...
"... You have one week to take your ass back to St. Portwell," Shaquita said before she walked to the fence and looked over her shoulder. "If you don't, I'll find you."
She hopped over it, and she was gone.
Hagan sighed as he climbed to his feet and dusted himself off.
What the hell did he get himself into?
On the way to St. Portwell.
Riding down the Interstate-5… Hagan took what Shaquita said dead seriously. He didn’t want to go back into the fold with the Wolfpack, but he also would like not to die at the hands of that spooky bitch. So, he has to play with the shitty hands he’s been dealt, unfortunately. His motorcycle had a top packed with drugs, money, clothes, and whatever else he would need. He would first off, need to find a place to stay, then getting back into the Wolfpack would be easy. He sighed as he pressed the touch screen on his bike and called Caelea. When she answered, he said,
“Hey, squirt, what’s up?”
“You oversized fucker, what's up? Really?” Caelea snapped from the other end. “Everything’s going to shit is what's up. Judas fuckin' dead, Dean’s obssessed with that fuckin' bitch… The fuck do you want?”
“I heard,” Hagan sighed. “Um, remember that money I owed those Dollhouse peeps? Why I skipped town in the first place…? ”
“Course I do, I’m not fuckin’ stupid.”
“Well, their boogeywoman beat the fuck out of me last night,” Hagan groaned. “She almost killed me! But, then told me that Judas made some deals with Dollhouse… I mean, it sounds about right with the Pack getting a bunch of magic outta the fuckin’ blue! But, they want me to take over the Pack if Dean keeps fuckin’ up.”
Caelea burst out laughing. She laughed for a solid minute, before talking in between laughs. “You- haha- the fuckin’ leader of the Pack… You? Fuck- hahaha- that’s fuckin’ hilarious! They ain’t shit if they think you can lead, hah, the fuck… That mean you're comin’ back?”
“Well, duh, squirt,” Hagan laughed. “But, that’s what I told them! I ain’t leadin’ the Pack, y’know! I’m not Judas… nobody is…”
“Fuck, might as well just ditch it,” Caelea snorted. “I got fuckin’ pissed at Judas all the time, but there ain’t anything like him- fuck he kept shit tight. Dean? Nah. You? Well, fuck, it’d be more fuckin’ fun than this shit. You’ll see when you get here.”
“Heh, where the fuck would you go?” Hagan laughed. “Back to Sycamore? Oh, wait - they fell apart!”
“Back to beatin’ up assholes like you for petty cash,” Caelea also laughed. “Wait, you ain’t heard? Course you haven’t, you ain’t in the fuckin’ city… Sycamore’s back together. Course they didn’t invite us.”
“Man, fuck ‘em!” Hagan gave her a hearty laugh. “I wouldn’t go back to that clusterfuck if they gave us a million dollars! Not even a trillion!”
“I’d go back to beat their fuckin’ asses,” Caelea said, the sound of something cracking coming through the phone. “‘Specially since it was their fault Judas got offed in the first place.”
“Wait, really?” Hagan asked. “The fuck happened?”
“Dunno the details cause I was breakin’ some bastard’s kneecaps, but that bitch with the pervy floating testicle started shit at Veni with that hippy tree fuckin’ coven. Buncha riders went out, got fucked, then Judas also got fucked. Dunno who did it, but Sycamore was at the scene. Some of em, at least.”
He looked as he passed a sign 500 Miles to St. Portwell. He shook his head as he said,
“Scary bitch told me that the Feds iced Judas, but who fuckin’ knows these days!” Hagan paused for a moment. “You’re gonna have my back, right? You know… I think I’ll knock Dean down anyway and take over the Pack. Just you and me…”
“Course I got your back,” Caelea replied immediately. “I’m sick of dealin’ with his shit. We can thrash him, easy, then run this shit way better than he could. Go back to runnin’ the town instead of chasin’ after some whore’s shitty ass.”
“Hell yeah, we’ll get all the bitches!” Hagan laughed. “I’ll hit you up when I get back, alright?”
“You better, shit's been boring as hell without you around,” Caelea said.
“I bet it is!” Hagan laughed. “Are those Nazi bastards gone?”
“Gone and fuckin' dead I hope, one good thing Dean did.”
“Great!” Hagan shouted. “I’ll be there in a few hours! Meet you there, squirt!”
Hagan accelerated…
… Then got pulled over.
The Wolfpack Clubhouse.
Hagan’s motorcycle stopped in front of the clubhouse… man, he hasn’t been here in awhile. He remembers telling Judas to fuck off when the Nazis came in. Though this place was home - well, it’s about to be home again!. Hagan took a deep breath before stepping off the bike with his backpack slung over his shoulder as he took one step.
“Took you fuckin' long enough!” Was the only warning Hagan got before an air enhanced foot was shooting towards his chest, Caelea launched herself away from the wall she'd been leaning against while smoking. It hit Hagan in the chest, and he immediately fell to his knee, grabbing his chest.
“... I just show up and I’m already eating shit,” Hagan said in between huffs. “... Thank you, squirt.”
“Ain't my fault you've gotten fucking weak,” Caelea laughed, slapping his shoulder before holding out her hand. ”C’mon, get the fuck up before anyone gets ideas 'bout being able to beat your pathetic ass. That's my job.”
“Suck my dick, squirt,” Hagan laughed as he got up to his feet. “Where’s Dean’s punk ass at?!”
“You wish,” Caelea rolled her eyes, before gesturing towards the main door to the clubhouse. “Inside pining over his hoe or some shit… oh, maybe there's some fuckin' new recruits, dunno, I just can't listen to his annoyin' ass.”
“I know just what to get his mind off her!” Hagan deviously grinned as he walked towards the door with his fist balled and his chest puffed out. He threw the doors open, and howled-
And immediately got four guns drawn on him. Each of them were short, blue-haired, women with some shitty tattoos.
“Who the fuck are you?!” One of them shouted, before sniffing the air. “We don't recognize your scent!”
Hagan immediately activated the Great Barrier and created a transparent, curved, shield between himself and these four.
“Hot damn!” Hagan whistled, “When did the Pack get clones?!”
“Like a… a week ago or some shit? Fuck if I remember or care, Dean brought em in,” Caelea laughed, popping out from behind Hagan (who completely hid her) and holding up a hand. “Put the fuckin' guns away if you don't wanna get blasted, he ain't a problem. Remember his scent or whatever. He's way more useful to the Pack than you bitches ever will be.”
“Try us you stank!” One of them shouted back, waving the gun
“... Oh lord,” Shayton groaned from the bar.
After a few moments, the door got kicked down, and Hagan grinned.
"... Dean! It's about damn time you showed up!" He began. "I want back into the Pack."
Cynthia's Interlude.
The Pit. God Knows How Long Ago...
The red glow of the sky...
It was a memory that felt primal to Cynthia. It felt comforting. It felt amazing.
It was one of the earliest memories of the "Abyssal Hunter," but Cynthia never used that term. To Cynthia, there are no Abyssal Hunters, only "her kind" and the humans and the various types they come in. The smell of rotting bodies was just the typical aroma, and the sound of screaming (or the screeches of another horror) in the distance was simply background noise. The young pup, before she was known as Cynthia, stood outside of the cave in which her Pack resided... while the Pit was a savage, lawless land, those with some familiarity with the area knew not to approach for their safety. She stared into the red sky, fearless and, in a strange way, enjoying the beauty of it all...
A bark from behind, and Cynthia turned around... it was time to feed. The young pup fled back into the cave as a man in tattered clothing, covered in wounds - slashing and bite marks - was dragged into the center of the room. The other pups were getting excited. However, the Pack Leader loomed over; her colossal figure was imposing, and she walked over. She was the authority to Cynthia. She was power. She was safety. She was everything Cynthia wanted to be as a pup, one of her kind in charge of a mighty pack. Except, she wanted to be in charge of the most significant pact in this place.
The Pack Leader barked. Then, she turned her head to leave.
The other pups hopped in and began to consume the man. He screamed, thrashed, and begged... which was just gibberish to Cynthia at the time. She just ate, ate, and ate... eventually, she got annoyed by all the screaming and hopped up to his throat and tore it out with her jaws. Before consuming that as well... It wasn't long until he was just bones, and Cynthia and the other pups licked the leftover blood off the ground before it was all gone. The pups picked up the bones, piece by piece, and placed them by the entrance of the cave as her kind valued cleanliness, and it served as an intimidation factor for any human that dared approach. Though Cynthia could smell human... She still hungered for flesh.
The rambunctious pup followed the trail that her nose led her to... and before she could even react, she was placed into a burlap sack and teleported away...
Eight Years Ago. St. Portwell. Tiffany Beck's Hideout.
Cynthia's mind was a frenzy, her face was covered in human blood and it was delicious. She charged through this abandoned parking garage that her Pack Leader chose as her base of operations. Cynthia roared as she lunged at the one in the green dress. She disappeared, and Cynthia felt her frenzy get worse as that was the most infuriating thing of all time! Her prey escaped not because they were more clever than Cynthia but as a cheap trick to save themselves. Cynthia roared as she turned on her heel and chased the scent. She may have teleported, but she did not get far. Cynthia kept charging as fast as she could, like a rabid animal.
The girl in the dress - Emily - stood there with a crocodile smile and her Pack Leader in her hands. Emily was holding her by her collar, and the woman was severely burned... Pack Leader was still alive. Cynthia could hear her heartbeat... the Pack Leader was defeated. Before Cynthia? There was something wrong with that image. However, Cynthia was too rabid to give it much thought beyond how she would consume Emily—starting with her intestines.
"Cynthia, help!" Tiffany begged - which was, strangely, making Cynthia angry. "She's going to kill me!"
More begging. Cynthia ignored her Pack Leader's cries as she charged forward, not finding it strange that the rival pack did not interfere. Her claws were outstretched as Emily just rolled her eyes.
"... NOW!"
The rival pack leader shouted, and Emily teleported away, leaving Tiffany behind. Cynthia didn't notice the glyphs drawn onto the ground in her hunger. They all began glowing, creating an electricity cage. The first thing that Cynthia thought about was running through it. However, upon contact, she was electrocuted, and she relented and faced Tiffany Beck for a moment.
"Now, you three wanted to try and reason with the Pit monster." Emily rolled her eyes, putting her hands on her hips. "Have at it."
At the time, Emily's two little sisters weren't the third-in-command but just the Coven sisters; they walked up to the electric cage and waved at Cynthia. The Abyssal Hunter relented slightly as she took a low attack position, ready to rip and tear.
Miranda smiled at her and waved.
"Hey there, Cynthia," Miranda said. "I'm Miranda."
"And I'm Jacqueline,"
"Cynthia could care less who you are," Cynthia spoke in a growl. "Drop this barrier so Cynthia can rip your intestines out."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Miranda laughed, putting her hands up. "Slow down there! Take me to dinner before you rearrange my guts." She grinned at Emily, who rolled her eyes.
"We wanted to... talk with you," Jacqueline said. "We know the truth about you. We want to help you.."
"What do you know about Cynthia, human?" She said.
"We know that she..." Jacqueline pointed at the wounded Tiffany Beck. "... Is not a worthy Pack-Leader."
"Cynthia, don't listen to them, please," Tiffany Beck said.
Jacqueline leaned in as she said, "Listen to her! She's begging! A rival pack bested her! She's a weak, pathetic excuse for a pack leader and should not be leading you!"
"Cynthia! I took you out of the Pit; I raised you! I made you into what you are today! Are you going to let this psychopath's sister-"
"... Does that sound like a Pack Leader you would follow?" Jacqueline asked.
Cynthia was quiet. As custom for her kind, the Pack Leader must be the strongest. The wisest. The safety for the entire Pack. However, Tiffany Beck was defeated, burnt to a crisp; Cynthia saw her charred limbs and knew they were useless. She was limp. She was weak. That rabid ferocity began to return to Cynthia as she got hungry. Though, a question appeared in her head.
“No,” Cynthia said. “Without a pack, Cynthia is nothing. Tiffany Beck is the pack. Without Tiffany Beck, Cynthia has no pack. Cynthia is aimless. Where will Cynthia go next?”
“Well, we have a better Pack Leader for you,” Miranda smiled before pointing at Emily, who rolled her eyes. “You can join us. You can be more than an attack dog, Cynthia.”
Jacqueline leaned in and whispered into her ear,
“... She’s not wired to be anything more than a pack animal,” Jacqueline said before speaking to Cynthia. “We will let you into our Pack, Cynthia. A better Pack. One where you can eat whoever you want.”
Cynthia was silent.
“... Are we really going to add a monster to our Coven?” Carol asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Why not?” Miranda laughed. “We’re all varying degrees of human if you think about it...”
“I know you can keep her under control,” Lynette said with a smile.
“Cynthia, we all know you want more than just the scraps that Tiffany is giving you,” Jacqueline began. “On 8th St, there is a whole feast waitin’ on you to gorge yourself on!”
“You’re not just a monster, Cynthia; you’re a force to be reckoned with,” Miranda said. “Joining us is channeling your hunger into something purposeful!”
“... And what does Cynthia get in return?” She asked.
"Respect. Fear. Power. All your urges will be sated!" Jacqueline said with a smile. “And you’ll no longer have to follow this fool around.”
“Cynthia…” She said. “Cynthia cannot follow a weakling like this around. Cynthia will join you… only if you maintain your promises, human.”
“That’s great! Alright, Lynette, drop th-” “... But first Cynthia must dispose of the rival pack-leader!”
Cynthia pounced Tiffany Beck, Jacqueline put her hands up and said, “Wait, Cynthi-”
Cynthia’s jaws met Tiffany’s abdomen, and she thrust upward, throwing Tiffany’s intestines into the air. She begged for her life as Cynthia ate her alive right then and there. Blood splattered everywhere as Cynthia devoured Tiffany Beck down to the bone. Jacqueline turned and vomited. So did Miranda. Then Carol. Then Greta. Phoebe pulled out her phone in excitement and recorded it. George just laughed. Nadine walked away shaking her head after some blood splashed on her. Emily did not so much as flinch. Lynette closed her eyes and covered her ears.
Tiffany Beck was just a stain on the ground when it was over.
Cynthia walked over to Jacqueline and Miranda…
“... Cynthia welcomes herself to your pack, human.”
Present Day. St. Portwell. The 8th St Manor.
Cynthia was mauling a kid that she had dragged into the 8th St Manor. Emily had run up and tried to pull the screaming child out of her jaws while whining.
"... Oh my God, Cynthia! Let go of her! George! George!"
“… Coming! Oh yeah!” George shouted as he ran over; he grabbed the little girl’s leg - yet that made Cynthia even more rabid. She began pulling back, “Let go of her, girl!”
“George, pry the kid from her-“ Emily tried to say, before George grabbed the kid tightly and swung her and Cynthia around. Trying to get her free…
“George! Are you retarded?!” Emily facepalmed with both hands.
A loud shush came from the couch as Vashti, without even turning her head to check on the commotion, turned the television volume up to one hundred to drown out Emily and the screaming kid with the intro for the Real Housewives of Mirage Spring. She leaned forward and resumed painting her fingernails a radioactive green, not even watching either show.
“Vasti! Get off your ass and-”
However, there was only so much a little girl’s arm could take, and it was torn off with Cynthia attached. Launching her across the room, hitting the television - shattering it - before she hit the ground and hurried out of the room with the child’s dismembered arm.
“Holy shit! Miranda! Get in here!” Emily shouted.
“What the hell is going on in he- Oh sweet Jesus!” Miranda shouted, and Cynthia could hear chattering get fainter and fainter as she escaped into the halls of the 8th St manor with her goods. It was dripping blood, blood that Cynthia wanted to consume later. Cynthia approached Pack member Greta’s lair… Pack Member Malik pushed the door open, and Cynthia gently trailed behind him as he walked in with his hands pockets. Cynthia just quietly ate the child’s arm as they talked….
Pack Member Greta was mixing one of her potions when she stopped and looked at Malik, saying, “Oh, Malik, what can I do for you?”
“I wanted to talk with you about things,” Malik began. “What happened at Kari’s house…”
“Ah, yes,” Greta flatly said. “When Ghosts from the Void came to fight us.”
“Well, not just that…” Malik trailed off. “I wanted to talk with you… You’re a good person, but Emily kicked the hornet’s nest, and it’s only a matter of time before-”
”... WHAT’S UP BITCHES!?”
Cynthia overlooked Pack Member Pink and Pack Member Violet approaching… though she was more concerned with eating this arm as fast as possible. She briefly glanced over her shoulder before she went back to eating.
“Malik! Baby!” Violet said as she ran over to Malik and wrapped her arms around him. “How are you doing?!”
“I’m, um…” Malik nervously said, looking off to the side before Pink began twerking against his leg. “... Alright.”
“Violet, Pink,” Greta said with a roll of her eyes. “What can I help you two with? I think I told you two already that my lab isn’t your strip club… Multiple times…”
Violet let go of Malik. Pink stopped twerking. The two gave each other a devious look before they held hands and thrust them into the air as they screamed.
“... BBL in a bottle!”
Greta’s jaw dropped as she tilted her head. She stared at these two psychopaths, only able to mouth the word, “... What?”
Violet strutted over to Greta and wrapped her arm around her shoulders. She leaned on the far shorter girl as she said, “It’s an idea for a potion! You drink it, and you get a fat ol’ ass! You could make a killin’ selling that on the street!”
“I wanna walk around like I got lipoedema!” Pink shouted, throwing her hand in the air.
However, Greta sniffed Violet’s fingers and then winced.
“... Why do your fingers stink?”
“I was playin’ with my booty earlier!” Violet proudly said.
Greta shook in red-hot rage, before she pointed at the door.
“All of you! I have work to do! Get out!”
“What did I-” Malik tried to say.
“... GET OUT!” Greta shouted, and Malik silently left. Violet and Pink twerked on their way out.
However, Greta heard Cynthia munching on that kid’s arm
“Cynthia! Cynthia! I told you not to eat in here repeatedly!” Greta shouted at Cynthia as she ran out of Greta’s lab. “You’re gonna have my lab smelling like ass!”
Most of Greta’s fiery rambling ended up a mumbled chattering as Cynthia ran through the halls of the 8th St manor… she came across the stairs - she knows that she’s not allowed up there, but it’s not like Pack Leader already isn’t happy. Cynthia crawled up the stairs, leaving a trail of blood from this dismembered arm. She reached the top of the stairs and figured that she would find somewhere-
She caught a familiar scent. One that immediately made her drop her prize. It was a scent that nearly sent Cynthia rabid every time she picked it up. It wasn’t any pack member or a member from an enemy pack, but it was something worse. Something that Cynthia despised with all of her heart.
It was the sent of another Predator.
You see, these grounds belonged to Cynthia. She may have submitted to the Pack Leader and respected every member of the Pack, but she didn’t like intruders. She clarified that every corner, aperture, nook, and cranny belonged to her. However, this Predator always accompanied the scent of Pack Leader Jacqueline, which was strange because every time she approached, the Predator would flee. This transformed Cynthia’s rage into glee, and he knew his place as a lesser Predator.
He knew Cynthia would grow to consume all.
Cynthia approached, as low and silent as possible, to Jacqueline’s room. She could hear some muffled chattering, but before she got close enough to hear, the Predator fled. This time, Cynthia got more frustrated and turned on her heel in defeat. Cynthia needed to teach him a real lesson: rip his intestines out and consume them slowly. She needed to be sneakier; she needed to get the drop on him and kill him like the pig he was. Cynthia walked back, picked up the dismembered arm, and walked to the back porch… where Pack Member Amy was. She was sitting on the brick wall that overlooked the yard, cleaning her club with a wet rag, and Cynthia approached her. Amy looked over her shoulder and said,
“Oh, hey, Cynthia…” Amy said. “What are you up-”
Then she noticed the arm dripping in blood, and her face went flat.
“... Hehe… what’s with the arm, girl?” Amy nervously laughed.
Cynthia dropped the arm at Amy’s feet and then smiled. It hit the wood with a thud, and then blood puddled. Amy’s grip around the club tightened.
“Aw, what the hell?!” Amy shouted.
"Predator." Cynthia hissed.
“Wait, what do you me-”
“Cynthia smells a predator,” She said, her head turning towards the upper floors of the 8th St manor.
“Now, girl,” Amy began. “I have three spooky ghosts in a club. I don’t know anything about predators and hunting people.”
Cynthia nodded, "Another predator's scent. He lurks where Cynthia roams."
Amy's gaze darted up toward the upper-floor windows. "Should we alert the others?"
"He fled when Cynthia approached," Cynthia shook her head as she spoke. “He fears me. Yet he’s willing to return. Cynthia must improve her skills so Cynthia can finally catch him.”
She paused momentarily before continuing, “But, when Cynthia does catch him, Cynthia will rip his entrails out. Cynthia will mount his head on the entrance to our territory to warn anyone foolish enough to approach.”
Amy’s jaw dropped.
“... How about we talk about this with Emily and Vash-”
“No,” Cynthia began. “This is Cynthia’s fight to win. Not the Pack’s.”
“But what if this bastard’s trying to hurt Jacqueline?” Amy raised an eyebrow.
“Cynthia will not allow any harm to come to the Pack,” She answered.
“... Just be careful,” Amy sighed and rolled her eyes as she returned to cleaning her club with an iron rag.
“Cynthia will be more than careful,” she said as she hopped down from the wall. “Cynthia will be deadly.”
Cynthia grabbed the child’s arm and wandered off into the manor halls, desperately attempting to pick up the Predator’s scent again. Only to find nothing. There was disappointment within the creature… only to grin when she realized.
He’ll be back.
Nora Foster's Interlude.
To be a god was a paradoxical existence.
As a creator of worlds, one might think a god was untouchable. The idea that to have such power, to shape reality as if it were wet clay, meant that one was like the sun in comparison to ants. And yet, one was not god without those who knelt in worship. A shepard was adrift without their flock, an artist starved in both body and soul without their canvas.
To lose that which tied one’s self to their lot in life was a death that some never experienced. The slow, agonizing death that extracted blood from a vein, drop by drop. The death that left corpses to walk the earth until their bodies withered to catch up at long last. And people did not worship corpses like Melsha.
A tattered husk of metallic material, gaunt and chiseled in its organic shape shuddered through an alleyway. Skin of glossy onyx cracked and gave way to machinations of cosmological perfection that the lifeforms of this expanse might call “organs.” It had used its remaining limbs to wrap itself in ugly, unnatural sheets of soaked fabric left to collect dust by someone who exhausted its prior use to provide shelter from the downpour of water. Out from the creature’s makeshift cloak, optical engines peered out into the end of the alley. Thunder rumbled overhead, and faint flashes revealed a way to climb over the tall, interlocking metal wires that constituted a barrier. Their simplistic integrity would have warranted appreciation from Melsha, under other circumstances.
Perhaps he could catch up with her if he took that approach. The clear panels of these spires were unattended to, but Melsha doubted he had the strength to climb. Nevertheless, he tried. Most of his arms were gone. But it only made him lighter.
He reached out with a scrawny, dexterous hand and laid it against the cold brick of the buildings, one after another. His foot raked against the chain fence, letting it slack downwards in such a way that this strange metal could tolerate. And then he pulled upwards. It was strange, he felt small for the first time in eons. As if he were an atom of burning hydrogen racing outwards from a dying star, Melsha was not long for this world. In a moment’s notice, he could fade from reality. And yet, he moved as mortals did- With defiance.
With each pull, he scaled the building and felt slightly more certain that his arms would crack and shatter. He did not feel pain in the human sense, so much as he felt stress. The strain of a great and noble vessel leaving its port for the first time in years, the protest of molecular bonds tested on a macroscopic scale. Long before his home became a foreign territory, they had once developed the philosophical idea that pain was a prerequisite to life. That to draw breath and appreciate it meant one had bled and felt the grip of finality, and chose to live regardless.
And in that, he found the strength to embrace this weakness.
Melsha carried himself to the flattened top of the roof, and skittered across its surface like a spider. It was there that he saw his interest walking down the side of a road. Her face and body were obscured by the “umbrella” these humans used in such weather. His eyes were not what they used to be, but she was something special.
Just an hour ago, she had been performing miracles upon a machine that Melsha found to provide calculations to those who worked in its building. She repaired the machine with masterful care, something about this human fascinated Melsha. He had to get closer, so he had followed her in spite of the rain and aches of his ragged form.
Perhaps she wouldn’t be so afraid. Perhaps the great design of the Firmament would be music to her ears.
Nora closed her umbrella and stepped into the house. Locking the door behind her, she left her shoes off to the side nice and neatly. It was quiet, and dad was asleep on the couch, so she walked over and shut the tv off. She walked into the kitchen and went straight to the fridge. It was a cozy kind of house, with pictures on the walls and house plants that her dad managed to keep alive. The kind of place that people actually lived in long enough to give it personality. The kitchen was no different.
She quietly opened the fridge, and withdrew a square pan that still felt slightly warm. Apparently he had lasagna, she laid some out on a paper plate and visibly cringed when the microwave beeped as she sat it inside to heat up.
Nora pulled her phone out and scrolled through her texts. Not many of them were coming through these days, with the last few days of high school right around the corner. Everyone was just waiting for it to happen and be done with this chapter of their lives, or already gone. It was weird, being at a point where she was already ahead of them all in one way but far off in another. This was pretty much it for her.
She was sort of okay with it, though.
She had a job, and it paid. It kept Nora out of the house longer than she liked more often than not, but the pay was great for a job that didn’t require four years of price gouging. And it made Nora feel like she could tell where she’d be in a year, maybe even longer. Fixing bugs and faulty wiring in server racks was easy, if you knew what to look fo-
BEEP!
Nora grabbed her late dinner and shut the damn microwave up, sitting down at a barren table.
Her thoughts wandered for a bit, to what she’d be doing tomorrow. Not that she’d be doing much, except maybe skipping school to get some overtime in. She was an adult now, she could do whatever the hell she wanted. There was something strange about having all that freedom dropped on her head in the span of a few weeks, about having the paradigm flip on its head.
Nora had expectations on her for most of her life. Go to school and do this, be this way, be home by that time. She still hadn’t fully adjusted to the weight of all that being gone. It wasn’t a particularly bad thing, but it was unusual. If Nora dreamed about places that were empty, when people were usually everywhere like a stadium or an office building, she might imagine it came close to this.
The clock on her phone read 9:17pm by the time she finished eating. Nora stood, put her plate in the dishwasher and turned to exit the kitchen. Only instead of turning the lights back off, her attention was grabbed by a soggy post-it note stuck to the light switch. And it wasn’t there when she walked in. The writing was tiny.
Walk up your stairs, to where you sleep. I and when you open the door, do not panic. Do not wake him. I will not harm you. Or your family.
I merely wish to speak.
The calm, sleepy vibe of the night had quickly become a “what the fuck” kind of vibe. Nora looked into the living room and saw her dad sound asleep, nothing to worry about. Her eyes darted around to make sure nothing weird was standing around. He always taught her to assess these situations thoughtfully, and that the guns were always right behind the couch.
So she slowly crept around and found it in a long wooden box, big enough to hold the rifle her dad first taught her to shoot with. Tucked beside it was her own weapon, a snub-nosed revolver that Nora got good with last summer. Her dad was so damn proud that she was good with it, but right now, she wasn’t sure how good she’d be once she walked up stairs. Her throat felt like it was closing up, knowing someone could be watching her with a knife or some other weapon. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Shouldn’t she call someone?
If she did, she’d make noise. And the house was already quiet enough that someone would hear. Nora breathed deep and loaded the gun as quietly as she could. Six bullets, out of a small box beside her pistol. She slowly crept up the stairs, pointing it up as she inched around the steps that would have creaked. At the top of the stairs, she looked back and forth, opened every door and cleared every room. Her dad might have told her to look under beds and in closets, especially in the room they used to store things, but Nora wasn’t thinking about that.
The hallway was dark, and she didn’t dare change that. She worked her way over to her room, and inched the doorknob open. Did she shut the door before she left this morning?
The door lazily swung open, and Nora pointed her gun at the vague mass in humanoid form that perched itself on her window. The moon was peeking out through the rain clouds in such a way that she could see just enough.
”What are you doing here?” she asked, tense. ”Who are you? How did you get in?”
The intruder was quiet for a moment.
”I said-“
”Nora Foster…” He had a voice like liquid bronze, smooth and polished. A light flickered into view as what she assumed to be their face turned and looked at her. It was the color of a setting sun, bright like a candle.
It wasn’t until the intruder’s gaze settled on her that Nora realized that light was his eye.
”My name is Melsha… And I have a proposition for you.”Nora leaned back in her chair, staring at the cube she was working on. A simple contraption that, according to Melsha, would distill time into a liquid form just as that anonymous client requested. Her sepulcher groaned in the far corner of her workshop, a spacious interior that was once the ground floor of this warehouse she had bought and renovated. Ventilation kept the place cool, and she had plenty of space to store things in the back, and she had the perfect location. Her dad thought she was crazy, buying this ruined building.
But if it was good enough for California, it was good enough for her business. Walls had been put in to separate parts of the interior. She stood up, stretched and took the stairs to the roof.
”You see, the principle is simple” a voice like cooling glass whispered in her ear. ”The axiom aligns, and is realigned in what your kind describes as a feedback loop.”
”And the realignment coalesces the gravitons. Yeah, I get it now. Only took an hour,” she answered back. Melsha’s knowledge was esoteric as all hell, but it checked out. She opened the door to the roof and took in the bright, sunny day.
Her phone buzzed, when she answered, she heard a voice,
“... Hello, Nora?”
” That’s me. Who wants to know?”
“Sabrina Vanburen,” She answered, “I have a job for you.”
Van-fucking-buren?
”…You have my attention.”
“Have you heard of the Sycamore Tree Coven?” Sabrina said. “Well, even if you haven’t I want you to help them, build what they need. I’ll pay.”
”Doesn’t ring a bell. But if you know them and you know how to contact me, then you should know I don’t work for easy money. Not when covens are involved.”
“That's fair,” Sabrina said. “I’ll cover it.”
”Good. So…” Nora said. ”What exactly does the Sycamore Tree Coven need from me? What am I building?”
“I am honestly not sure yet, but I was hoping that you work with them for a bit, make what they ask for,” Sabrina explained.
I find this suspicious.
Yeah. Me too.
Nora considered her next words carefully. ”Then you need me to meet them? In person? That can be arranged. Tell me about them, let’s see what we can work out.”
Olivia Ruiz's Interlude.
It was a lovely day.
Olivia walked along the waterfront promenade of St Portwell with a bouquet of flowers in her arms, bought in one of the local flower shops. The lovely smell helped calm her mind as she weaved through people, with workers coming out to enjoy lunch and students making the most of the nice Spring weather.
The sky was a radiant blue across the calm sea, the sun reflecting off gentle waves. There were boats going to and fro the islands, and fishermen going about their daily business on the water. It was beautiful, and picturesque.
She paused to take a picture, softly smiling at the results. She'd show it to Luca when she got home… It was a shame he couldn't get out when it was so nice, but it was too dangerous when there were so many people around. Maybe they could go on a walk later tonight, when it was darker and quieter.
With a slight smile at the thought, Olivia kept going. Their apartment was a fair distance from downtown St Portwell and the harbour, but it was a nice walk… during the day. A bit more dangerous at night, since they’d had to find somewhere a little more rundown.
Not that she was ever particularly worried.
Ohhh, I like the look of that one, a smooth, enticing voice whispered in her mind. It directed her attention towards a young woman walking past her. She couldn’t be much more than twenty, small and delicate with hair that fell in dark waves down her back. Pretty and weak. Exactly how the Black Rose Killer liked them. Go and talk to her. She’ll trust you. It’s so nice being in a female body. Lure her into that side street, then we can take her home. Or perhaps we should use a vine to snap her pretty little neck… No, that would be too quick. We need to draw it out.
Olivia grimaced, averting her eyes from the woman as her Apparition’s desires filled her mind. It never got easier. She was always able to resist, but just the thought of hurting someone like he wanted made her feel sick. The fact she needed to exert effort to resist, to stop herself from following his cruel whims, made her feel vile.
Maybe she was a horrible person. She always tried her best to be kind, but sometimes the suggestions were so tempting.
Luca told her it was all him. Just like the Rot urging Luca to destroy everything. He understood because he was in a similar situation but… It didn’t stop it from distressing Olivia. She’d learned to live with it, but she’d never get used to it.
You know you want to. Go on, just give it a try.
Olivia winced, ignoring the wretched voice in her head.
She kept her gaze to the ground for the rest of the walk, flowers clutched tight enough to her chest that they started to crumple. Her skin crawled, stomach clenching as a deep sickness clutched her. She felt disgusting. She needed to get home.
She kept her eyes down for the rest of the walk, hurrying her way through the streets before getting to the apartment block her and Luca lived in. It was rundown, but for them that was perfect… Luca would only damage somewhere nice, and then feel bad about it. She sighed, going up the stairs rather than the elevator. It was only when she was in the apartment itself that she calmed down slightly.
“I’m home,” she called out as she stepped into the main room, immediately seeing Luca sitting on the couch, working away at his computer. As she appeared, he pushed away the slowly disintegrating plastic keyboard and turned towards her.
“Welcome home! How was it- oh, those smell nice!” Luca smiled brightly, eyes darting to the flowers Olivia had brought in. They both knew that they wouldn’t last long in his presence, but their short lives brightened up the otherwise drab apartment. It wasn’t fair that Luca couldn’t enjoy these things - at least these flowers were cut and on their way to decay anyway. He just made the process slightly faster.
Olivia wanted him to have at least this much. While the apparition she was stuck with tried to get her to do all sorts of horrible things, at least she could live normally if she ignored it. Luca couldn’t do that… yet he never acted like it affected him. He was bright and cheerful. So positive about it all.
Without Luca, Olivia probably would have lost hope a long time ago. She was only able to keep being herself thanks to him.
”So, how was it? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, of course.” Luca sat back down on the couch, lips twitching down for just a moment. Olivia watched him carefully for a few more moments, but there weren’t any more signs of him being in pain.
Good, he seemed to be getting better. Olivia knew, even though Luca refused to tell her, that the Rot was hurting him in some way. They’d been friends for too long for him to hide it fully from her. But she didn’t want to push him, so she just observed.
”It was good. She’s really nice,” Olivia replied softly. She pulled out a vase for the flowers, filling it with water and carefully trimming the ends of the stalks. She then displayed them on the breakfast booth, coming round with a smile.
She sat down in the armchair that was solely hers - a soft, teal one that had some signs of the rots wear but was in a better state than a lot of the furniture. Luca tried his best to avoid anything that was deemed ‘hers’. It wasn't entirely possible due to the aura, but he at least didn't touch it… Olivia appreciated it, even though she didn't think it was necessary. She'd chosen to live with him knowing the issues there'd be. “I think she’ll be able to help me deal with the apparition… So that I can ignore him.”
”So you’ll be able to live normally?” Luca asked with a bright smile. ”That’s great, Olivia… Since we left 8th I know it’s been lonely for you. You’ll be able to make friends and spend more time with your family without worry!”
Olivia felt pained to hear Luca talking about that so cheerfully. If she was able to ignore her Apparition and move on to a normal life, where would that leave Luca? She wouldn’t abandon him, but she knew he wouldn’t let her put her life on hold for him. “It’s lonely for you too, Luca.”
”I’m fine,” Luca smiled, waving it off like normal. Typical Luca, always staying positive, never letting her concerns through. But it didn’t stop her being concerned. Luca was her closest friend - she cared for him just like she did her family. ”I’ve gotten used to it! I’m happy just having you around, and I’ll find a way to get rid of the rot.”
“I’m sure you will.”
”For both of us! Then, we won’t have to worry about anything paranormal. At least the Rot doesn’t come out, right? Yours sometimes does. But we’ll fix it.”
Olivia smiled, even though she didn’t really believe it. It had been years with very little progress. It was why she was trying to live with it.
You’re right, you’ll never be free of me, the voice whispered in her head. And eventually you’ll give in.
Her smile wavered. She couldn’t deny it. Every once in a while she could feel her sanity slipping, the urge to do what he told her to. It was so hard to hold on sometimes. She wasn’t strong like Luca was. It was why she started seeing a therapist. Everyone thought she was kind, but she cracked under the pressure.
If you gave into me, you could be strong.
Olivia shuddered.
Luca tilted his head. ”What’s wrong, Liv?”
“Nothing,” Olivia shook her head, smiling. Luca had enough on his plate as it was. She couldn’t keep talking to him about the same problem. “How’s your day been, then? Did you fix that problem at work?”
As soon as Olivia turned the subject to something Luca could just chat about, he started without much hesitation. She was content to just sit back and listen to him animatedly talking. Just like he said, it would be fine. Even if they didn’t find a solution, she’d learn to live with it.
"Within the bounds of Walter's book."
"Is more than just forbidden knowledge."
"Inside of it were two beings."
"Two beings that knew all about Walter's plan for the All-Verse."
"Two beings that helped him make it."
Raven Jones awoken... she was groggy. Nasueaus. Ready to vomit it all out. She looked around. She was in some library, dimly lit by a few candles. There were bookcases as far as she could see... and she saw Sunshine staring at her with worried eyes.
"Baby!" Sunshine said as she wrapped her child in her arms. "I thought I lost you!"
"... What happened, mama?" Raven asked.
"I don't know," Sunshine said, "You fell over, you got ill, and these snake creatures burst out of your skin - but I saved you."
Raven sighed as she put a hand on her forehead...
"Where are the things I found?" Raven asked.
"Oh, the Chalice and the book?" Sunshine responded before giving the backpack a few taps. "They're in here."
"Can I have them?"
"Of course!" Sunshine reached into the bag and pulled out the Chalice and Walter's Book. She handed Raven the latter but held onto the former. "This is the Chalice! Last I heard, some whacko had it. Then lost it! Funny that you find these things here; it's like the Pit's one big lost and found..." As Sunshine spoke, Raven opened the book and looked up at Sunshine.
"... What does any of this mean?"
"Oh baby," Sunshine laughed. "I never taught you how to read... come here..." Sunshine said as she lovingly got behind Raven and gently cradled her.
As Raven began to flip through the pages, she saw glimpses of disturbing illustrations and cryptic symbols. Sunshine pointed to the text, then spoke,
"This book was written by Walter, who worshipped an Apparition known as the Stygian Snake," Sunshine explained.
"The Stygian Snake?" Raven asked.
"It's, uh... one of the most powerful and feared Apparitions out there," Sunshine began. "How do I explain this, baby?" She began.
"The Stygian Snake is not just some Apparition but a force. Of destruction. Despair. And some believe renewel. One that's been around longer than anyone can imagine!" Sunshine explained. "And Walter believed it was the key to ultimate power."
"Ultimate power?" Raven asked as she looked up at her mother.
"He was a madman! He thought he could harness its power, Raven! Maybe become something beyond human," Sunshine nodded before she laughed. "But, messing with that kind of power... only a fool would try, honestly. There's a point where you don't force the forces anymore, and then they turn around and force you."
Sunshine shrugged. "Many people have tried to control the Snake, and it never worked out... So, it's all rubbish. Poppycock. Crap. Lies!" She laughed as she tickled Raven, and her daughter laughed.
Once Sunshine stopped, Raven asked, "... Why would he want this power?"
Sunshine laughed, dismissively waving her hand. "Baby, some people delude themselves into thinking they can change the world! But all that ends up happening is that they lose themselves!"
Raven laughed with her mother before they silently delved deeper into Walter's Book, tracing their fingers over Walter's crazed ramblings, and in between that, they found ancient scripts and cryptic passages.
"... You know, it's weird that the entire book is written in English."
"What's English?" Raven asked, confused.
"It's what we're speaking right now, baby," Sunshine wrapped her arms around Raven's waist, fingers tracing through the words as she silently read. "Um, you'll need to learn all about it when we get out of the Pit, baby. Maybe some other languages, too, but for now we have-"
Sunshine came to a stop as her fingers went over a chant...
"... That crazy bastard," Sunshine said.
"Mama?" Raven asked.
"There are two Apparitions sealed inside of this book," Sunshine began. "The Pale Horse, and the High Priestess... I know the High Priestess can get us out of here..."
Raven's eyes glistened with excitement as she hopped up and down.
"... The issue is that will she?" Sunshine sighed. "Apparitions are very inconsistent and unpredictable entities... However, there has to be something here, an artifact, that can control her so we can force her hand."
"Is there any way to get her out?" Raven asked.
"There's a chant, sweetie," Sunshine said. "I can teach it to you... but you must promise to only use it in the event I die, or we get separated again, and you are certain you can use it to escape."
"What about you?" Raven asked.
Sunshine was silent for a moment.
"... I'll be okay." Sunshine answered. "Now, let's get to work, sweetie, you have to recite it exactly as I say it."
The two spent the next couple of hours learning the chant but not reciting it out loud. Otherwise, they risked the early release of the two Apparitions. Raven memorized it by heart. Once that was complete, Sunshine made a makeshift bed out of the soft books and whatever soft she could gather in the immediate area and allowed her daughter to rest. Sunshine gently placed a blanket made out of human skin that she made over Raven while Raven went to rest.
"... Sleep well, baby," Sunshine said. "I'm going to be keeping watch."
Raven dozed off, her mind spinning with the weight of this new knowledge. Suddenly, a distant rumbling echoed through the room, disrupting the quiet. Raven stirred awake, her eyes snapping open as heavy footsteps grew louder. Before she could fully comprehend what was happening, the library walls trembled and cracked, revealing dark figures clad in gleaming armor.
"Autoknights!" Sunshine hissed through clenched teeth.
Dozens of them poured into the room, armed with rifles and swords; Sunshine reached into that canteen of blood she kept at her waist and poured it into her hand. She grew a symbol into the air, one of tendrils and lines, and moments later, several tentacles shot out of the ground around Sunshine and Raven. They cut through the air at lightning-fast speeds and impaled the Autoknights... which began to ooze blood. However, there was a large amount of them, and Raven hid behind Sunshine, as there was a relentless amount of them. Sunshine threw out spells until one of the Autoknights knocked them over. Sunshine quickly got back to her feet and kept fighting while Raven struggled to climb back to her feet.
One of the Autoknights grabbed her.
They pulled her away.
Raven screamed
"... NOOOOOOO!" Sunshine shouted as she used her desperate Blood-Art Technique to attempt to save Raven. Raven was surrounded by a wall of Autoknights that tanked most of the attacks meant for her captors. The further she went, the more Raven realized that Sunshine would not save her...
Tears fell from her face.Raven was imprisoned by the Autoknights.
Her hands and feet were chained.
Raven was led through the halls of the King's Castle, also known as the "Crimson Court." It was the King's Kingdom, which Sunshine told her never to approach. Raven held her head low as she was marched through the halls like an animal by two Autoknights, eventually being led to a defacto courtroom that had a view of the Pit's eerie red sky. In various parts of the room, Autoknights stood guard. However, one of them held a pecuilar spear. Raven sighed as she was brought before him.
The King of the Pit.A boy no older than what she was. Wearing a stone mask and a crown.
He stood behind the podium, looming over her like the tyrant he was; Raven looked up to him as she was forced onto her knees.
"So," The King spoke in a high-pitched voice, muffled by his golden mask. "You know nobody is permitted to enter the forbidden temple, correct?"
Raven was silent.
"Answer me!" The King shouted, slamming his hands on the podium. He turned towards the Autoknight with the barbed wire spear. "Punish her!"
The Autoknight walked over to Raven and pressed the spear against her face, and she screamed at the top of her lungs as she experienced the worst burning hot pain imaginable. She thrashed around in her cuffs as barbed wire danced through her skin, and the Autoknights grabbed her by the shoulder to hold her down. The Autoknight with the spear released it, and she loudly panted.
The King steepled his fingers, placing his feet on the podium.
"... Are you ready to talk now?" He asked, and Raven just panted in pain. "... Do it again."
The Autoknight pressed the spear against her face again, and she experienced the pain once more as more barbed wire dug into her skin, traveling up her head. She kept panting; her throat was on fire.
"I can do this all day you know..." The King taunted.
"Fine!" Raven huffed. "I didn't know! I didn't even enter there willingly!"
The King of the Pit was silent.
"The Mother Will sent me there!" Raven shouted.
The King was silent before he gave out a wave of his hand.
"Knights, bring the Chalice and the Book," He ordered, and two of his Autoknights stomped off... only returning with Walter's Book and the Chalice. They placed them on the podium in front of the king, he picked up the Chalice and rotated it to examine it, before putting it down. Then he picked up Walter's Book and dismissively turned some pages before throwing the book on the podium. He looked at Raven and said,
"... Am I supposed to believe that?" The King asked, leaning forward. "When you left with these?" He gestured at the artifacts.
"Well, anyone who disobeys my rule will be punished," The King said. "I would kill you, but the punishment you'll receive will make you wish I did."
He snapped his fingers.
"Autoknight."
The Autoknight pressed the spear against Raven's face, and she began screaming at the top of her lungs, and more barbed wire snaked its way into her eye socket, behind her eye. As Raven writhed in agony under the cruel punishment inflicted by the Autoknight, her mind raced. She knew this was her moment — her only chance to enact the desperate plan she and Sunshine had prepared for.
It was now or never.
Through the haze of pain, Raven focused on the chant she had memorized. She steeled herself, drawing on the strength she had inherited from Sunshine, and waited for the right moment...
"Enough," The King said, steepling his fingers. "You finally see that nobody defies me? Otherwise, we can continue."
Raven, tears and blood running down her face from the torment, forced the strength to raise her head towards the King. Her vision was blurry, and she was shaking, "... I have... something... to... say..." She would have fallen over if not for the Autoknight holding her shoulders.
The King looked down at her.
"Speak then."
Raven took in a deep breath.
"... From the void between realms and the shadows that rend! High Priestess, rise from dimensions; your power I send! Pale Horse, shrouded in darkness, unleash your fog of devastation! Together, obliterate and change!"
The room began shaking; there was a disturbance in the air as an otherworldly force paralyzed the Autoknights and the king with dread—a supernatural fear, unlike anything they had ever seen before in the Pit. Raven's heart was pounding, and the sigils in Walter's book began to glow.
"By the will of Walter, I call the High Priestess, the Pale Horse, upon this land! Your fates are entwined, your powers combine, break free from your bindings, heed my design..."
The book began to float in the air; the Autoknights were disabled by the magic the Book commanded. Raven screamed the last bit of the chant...
"... With this chant, I shatter your chains!"
A blast of otherworldly force surged from the book, sending the King and all the Autoknights flying but not affecting Raven. When it faded, the two Apparitions stood there.
The Pale Horse stands as a cloaked figure with horns and an ominous shadow on his head. The High Priestess looks the more abstract, a robed figure with a floating sun-like head. The High Priestess stretched her arms out...
"... Aw, that was a nice sleep, now was it, Pale Horse?" She steepled her fingers together, looking at her companion, before she shook her head. "Oh wait, I forgot!"
"What the hell are you doing!?" The King shouted, hopping to his feet. "This is my court! Autoknights!" He pointed at them.
All of the Autoknights charged the two Apparitions. However, a thick black mist that seemed to move like sand overcame them. Whenever this darkness hit the Autoknights, it erased them entirely until there were no more Autoknights.
"What the" The King almost fell in his seat before cupping his hands together and screamed.
"KNIGHTS?! YOUR KING NEEDS ASSISTANCE"
"... My goodness, you are incredibly annoying, you know that?" The High Priestess turned her head towards the King of the Pit. "Pale Horse, silence this miscreant for good."
The High Priestess looked at The Pale Horse, and they raised their hand... and a wispy black fog wrapped around the King. He screamed - up until he suddenly stopped. The fog disappeared, and there wasn't even so much as a trace of the King. However, Chalice and Walter's book was left untouched. The High Priestess continued smiling as she turned to Raven and said,
"... So, are you little Walter's Plan B he prattled on so much about?" The High Priestess laughed. "It's about damn time we got the plan back in motion! How long was it?! A few hundred years!? More?!"
Raven Jones was momentarily silent. She looked to the left, where the King of the Pitused to be.
"... Yes."
"Well, go grab the Chalice and the book already!" The High Priestess said, "I hate this place. So miserable and smelly! And I don't even have a nose!"
The High Priestess raised her hand, and a glowing red portal appeared behind her. It led into a black void of nothingness. Raven walked over to pick up Chalice and Walter's Book and then back to the two and the portal.
"Can we go find my mam-" Raven tried to say.
Without a second thought, the High Priestess shoved her into the portal.
"You're taking too long! We have to go!"
Was the last thing Raven heard as she fell through the portal; she loudly screamed as she fell into nothingness...
It was seemingly endless, and Raven couldn't help but panic as the entire experience was alien to her. As she fell, she could hear the High Priestess' voice...
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"Ah, you clever bastard!"
"You have no clue who Walter even is, do you?"
"I would throw you back into the Pit so you can remain in your 'natural habitat'..."
"... But, I can't help but admire your resilience."
"Not only did you survive The Pit against all odds, but you found a way out! Bravo! Bravo!"
"... And even though you don't know who Walter is, maybe you're just what we need."
"Come on, Magni."
...
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Raven made it to the other side of the portal...
... And saw the sun for the first time in her life.
Raven stood in a field and looked around; all these sensations were alien. Where were the monsters? Where was the red sky she was familiar with? The High Priestess smiled while the Pale Horse stood there.
"... We have much work to do, Magni, so come on."
The High Priestess turned around and gestured for Raven to follow. The Pale Horse was at her side.
She stood there for a moment.
Before she ran after them.
The Recollection ends there.
"That's where it ends for now."
"Raven Jones won't do anything until she becomes a woman."
"And what she does will change everything."
"The Pale Horse and the High Priestess are dangerous."
"Not just for their potent Abstractions."
"For the knowledge they wield."
"They turned Raven Jones into a monster."
"Seal them for the good of the All-Verse."
"Lock them away and throw away the key."
"I beg you."
Lihn Phan.
Interactions: None
The Phan Office.
”... Back here again,” Adora laid down on the chaise lounge, she sighed as she stared at that familiar ceiling yet again.
“Here you are again,” Lihn chuckled with a smile.
”... Where should I start this time, doc? The Halloween Festival, or how I’ve been feeling lately…?”
“Let's start with the Halloween Festival,” Lihn suggested. “I'd like to know how you found it - did you manage to stay there for long?”
”Well…” Adora trailed off, shrugging as she looked to the side. ”... I beat up a Vanburen within like ten minutes of making it to the island.”
“That's…” Lihn seemed at a loss for words for a moment. “Not an ideal start. What happened that led to this? I know you well enough to know you're not the kind to attack someone for no reason.”
”She… Made fun of what happened to Lisa,” Adora answered, ”I should have just ignored her, walked away.”
“I see. You’re right, but-” Lihn smiled gently at Adora, with no judgment in her expression. “Sometimes you can’t stop your emotions from overriding your judgment. I don’t condone violence, but I understand why you couldn’t walk away. It’s something we can work on. In the moment, how did you feel, if you can remember?”
”... Pissed. Fucking angry,” Adora seethed, shaking her head. ”That bitch Trisha had no place to mock me. Or Lisa… Or anyone for that matter! She’s just a miserable asshole with daddy issues that tries to make it everyone else’s problem!”
“Of course you would feel angry. She mocked someone that means so much to you,” Lihn said softly. “It sounds like Trisha has a lot of her own problems. She was probably lashing out at what she saw as an easy target. Of course, that isn’t acceptable… I hope there isn’t a next time, but if there is, try your best to view what she says as insignificant. She’s someone taking out her own hurt on others. Did she… even know Lisa?”
”No.” Adora gave a quick and to-the-point answer. ”She just said it to fuck with me.”
“I see,” Lihn sighed. “Well… I can’t condone your reaction, but I understand it. Try not to be to hard on yourself for it, it’s difficult for even the most stable person to hold themselves back over something so triggering. How were you, other than anger? Any of the normal panicked feelings? Were you able to stay out for the rest of the night?”
”Um… I got pulled off of her by one of my former Coven-mates, Leon,” She explained. ”Then some people came up to him… I didn’t know who they were, but they called themselves Greenwood or something like that. The rest of the night is a lil’ bit of a blur, but eventually we, ran into a, uh, ‘toga party’. That’s when I partied with them for a little bit… I felt bad for beating up Trisha, but I… had fun. For once.”
“I’m glad you had fun with your covenmate, and at… whatever a ‘toga party’ is,” Lihn laughed. “The fact that you feel bad shows that you regret what happened… so I’m not particularly worried it’ll happen again. You being able to go out and enjoy yourself at such a big event shows how far you’ve come. I’m proud of you, really.”
Lihn smiled genuinely at Adora, before asking, “how has the rest of your week been?”
Adora was unsure of if she should explain the debacle at Kari’s house. Probably err on the safe side because it was technically trespassing and change the subject.
”... Lonely.”
“I see… is the loneliness worse than before, now that you've started seeing people again?” Lihn asked.
”I guess…” Adora trailed off. Lihn probably knew all about how Adora barely left the house half the time. Never went out to hangout with friends. Never went to events. Just stayed in. ”... I don’t know. I really don’t want to be around those people, but at the same time I do… it makes no fucking sense, does it?”
She sighed. ”... A friend of mine told me that I abandoned them. That I have no place among them anyway.”
“That must have been hard to hear, after everything you did for them before,” Lihn said. “Are you close to this friend? Perhaps she was trying to protect you… as you said, you both do and don't want to be around them. On one hand, they're a group of people you went through so much with - the only people who might understand, perhaps. But they're also a constant reminder of your trauma. It's understandable you have such conflicting feelings.”
”... I can’t say that I am, her name was Gretchen - well, she always gets mad when you call her that, heh,” Adora chuckled, before her face went flat. ”I… can’t say that I am. We were friends in the old Coven. Well, by association. She was friends with… Lisa. Really close friends.”
She coughed before she continued. ”I mean… I don’t really have a whole lot of social connections to people other than them, but… On the other hand, I hung out with two of them over the weekend. It was nice, but while hanging out with them, there was that nagging feeling. Like I felt something wrong.”
“What kind of wrong?” Lihn asked. “Wrong, because you feel Lisa should be there too. Or wrong, like a creeping anxiety that you’re in danger?”
”… I feel like Lisa should be there where ever I go,” Adora answered, ”They just… give me a bad feeling. Like I feel like something that shouldn’t exist when I spend time with them.”
“Of course. Lisa should be there with you - they're not only your coven, but hers too. Being around them must feel wrong without her… and if they don't feel that loss the same way you do, it will only make it seem like there's a divide between you and them.”
” Of course they don't… We talked about it last week…” Adora shrugged. ”But, she should be here, and its all my fault…” Tears started streaming down her cheeks.
“It's not your fault,” Lihn said with a slightly pained expression. She picked up the box of tissues on the table between them and held it out to Adora if she wanted to take it. “You were a teenager with too much power fighting a multidimensional threat. None of you should've had to in the first place… Lisa's death was tragic, and horrible. But the only one at fault as the Stygian Snake, and perhaps the adults that failed you all.”
Adora didn’t accept the tissues, merely rolling onto her side. ”... I just can’t help but feel like if I had been better, she would still be here… everything would be better….”
“Of course… You'll always feel guilt, because you're the one who survived and she didn't,” Lihn said softly, and carefully. “Thinking about what could have been and what you could do lessens the helplessness you feel about it… but, Adora, you did everything you could. We can't always prevent… these tragedies.”
”... And everything I could wasn’t enough,” Adora muttered underneath her breath. ”I guess you’re right….”
Lihn raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment on what Adora said so quietly she probably hoped Lihn couldn’t hear. “It’s not about me being right so much as it is you accepting what I’m saying… I hope that after all of these sessions we’ve had you’re beginning to forgive yourself for your perceived failings, and slowly blaming yourself less. I understand it’s not easy… Grieving isn’t a linear process, or something that ever goes away.”
”... It's just so hard sometimes” Adora said. ”One day it feels like everything is fine… Then other days it's not…”
“Of course. There will always be days when it doesn't feel fine, and that's alright,” Lihn said. “You don't just get over loss. It's learning to live with it, and knowing it's alright to not be alright. Lisa will… always be an important part of you, on both the good and bad days.”
”... To just live with it,” Adora said with a sigh. ”You know I’m trying to, doc. But, can we talk about another thing, doc?”
“I know, you’re trying your best, and that’s enough,” Lihn said with a soft smile, before nodding. “Alright, of course. What do you want to talk about?”
”So, um… shit, I don’t even know how to explain it,” Adora shook her head as she lay on her back. ”The Coven got into a fight with, um, 8th Street - but I don’t want to talk about that.”
She shook her head, ”What I want to talk about is… when they left, they like, blanketed us with this pink shit. I don’t know what it was, but when I huffed it, I… saw things…” She rolled back onto her side.
“What did you see?” Lihn asked carefully. “Take your time, if you need to.”
”It… started here,” Adora said, before laughing. ”To paraphrase; I said ‘I didn’t need your services anymore, I am finally better’. I walked outside, Lisa came and picked me up in one of her flying spiders...” A tear ran down her face, which she wiped before she continued.
”While we were flying there, she… told me ‘I don’t blame you for what happened… it wasn’t your fault.’[ Before we made it to the Old Coven’s lair, and everyone was there - well, except the annoying assholes - everyone who lost someone had their people back. Everyone was happy. ‘Nessa and Clem were there, they said they didn’t blame me for, you know, abandoning them.”
Adora sighed, pausing for a moment, before she continued, ”... Then Kari was there, she took me outside, gave me a slice of cake that I remember her coming to my house to give me a few months ago. I told her I was sorry for boxing her out when she only wanted to help. She told me that I should stop being so hard on myself and just accept that some things are out of my hands. Everyone was okay. Everyone was happy. I was happy.”
More tears began streaming down Adora’s face, as her voice cracked again, ”... Then it was over. Snatched away from me as I was brought back to reality. I… couldn’t take it. I just broke down right then and there.”
“Oh, Adora… I’m so sorry,” Lihn said. She was at loss for words for a moment - it was difficult to hold onto her own emotions for a moment. “It’s so cruel to have that snatched away from you, and having to come back to the reality where these people aren’t… here. Of course, you broke down. Does just talking about it make you feel the same way?”
”... Yes,” Adora sobbed.
“Of course it did…” Lihn frowned. “Because talking about it can’t bring her back. I wish I had the words to make it all better, Adora, I really do. One day, you’ll find your happiness… But of course, it’s not possible for it to look like that. That’s a difficult thing to accept without having to hallucinate it.”
”I’m just… wondering what it all meant,” Adora sighed.
“It can mean a lot,” Lihn said, stifling a slight laugh. If only it was so easy to explain. “There’s the obvious - that you regret what happened, and want Lisa’s forgiveness… but deep down, I think, you also want to forgive yourself. You want to believe you weren’t to blame - and you weren’t. You know, deep down, that Lisa would think so… and that came out in this dream. I think, maybe, it was showing you what you desired the most. Happiness, with all of your friends.”
”... You know, that fantasy world kind of seemed better than the real world! Maybe I should join up with 8th to experience that all the time...” Adora darkly chuckled, before shaking her head. ”... That was a joke, Doc.”
“I hope so,” Lihn laughed slightly, more nervous than anything. “As much as we may want it to be, a fantasy is just that - a fantasy, not real. The real world is harder, but it’s where we live… And where we can make things better.”
”... And maybe - and I mean maybe - there is a way to achieve it,” Adora answered.
“That's true,” Lihn smiled. “Anything is possible with magic… just don't go down paths you shouldn't in pursuit of it.”
”Trust I’m not going supervillain anytime soon, Doc,” Adora laughed.
“I'd hope not, or I might be losing my licence,” Lihn half joked. “I'm not worried about that, just you doing something that might… harm yourself at the end of the day.”
”Look, you don't gotta worry about me hurting myself,” Adora rolled her eyes. ”The bastard that pulled that shit on me better count their days though…”
“I'm also worried about that,” Lihn shook her head. “Getting put in jail will also technically harm you!”
”Implying I get caught!” Adora laughed.
Lihn held a hand to her forehead. “Please don’t commit any crimes, Adora… At least, don’t kill anyone.”
Adora laughed again, ”I won’t, Doc. You can trust me!”
“I trust you,” Lihn smiled, shaking her head.“Otherwise, has there been any progress with the coven?”
”Not really,” Adora shrugged, finally wiping her tears with the tissue. She rolled back over to her back. ”To make it short, we summoned the spirit of one of our deceased members - Kari Wilson - and she didn't know us. Auri is convinced that she has something to do with it. But… ”
Adora glanced at the wall, ”... I think it's a dead end.”
“Oh, as in... a different her?” Lihn’s eyes widened, and the professional mask slipped for a moment at the mention of Kari Wilson. She covered it with a smile. Somewhat cryptically, she said, “perhaps there are avenues to follow that you aren’t looking down yet… Don’t dismiss it too soon.”
”... ‘This Kari, the body buried here isn’t our Kari. Whoever is behind this can hop realities.’” Adora repeated what Lyss said that night. Adora didn’t seem to notice what Lihn did. ”I’m not the magic expert - but how did she know that? Unless she was in on it…”
She shrugged again, ”I mean… To be entirely fair with you, doc; we don't got any leads on our killer. Zero. Nadda. I can’t blame her for chasing the only thing that’s remotely close to a lead.”
She trailed off, ”... And I can’t lie, there is that part of me that wants her to be okay. She was the only one in the Old Coven that reached out to me. We’re in the same boat about Lisa. I mean… I pushed her away, but now that she’s gone, I regret that.”
“I understand. There is… always the possibility, with how magic works. I don’t know much about the different realms, but it’s possible,” Lihn smiled, a hint of sadness behind her eyes. “There is the possibility that, if she is alive, she’s… involved. I can’t see that being the case- ah, from how you talk about her. But it’s something you would have to prepare yourself for.”
”I’m trying to, I’m just…” Adora trailed off. ”8th St was harassing her to join them. I’m hoping it’s something like that… I just can’t see her going on a rampage. She… was a sweet gal.”
“Hopefully,” Lihn said. “It’s best to keep hope, and trust your instinct, while remaining realistic. If she was being harassed by 8th Street- who I know are particularly… nasty- it wouldn’t be surprising if she disappeared to avoid them. Was she… the first to go, or were there others before her?”
”There was- fuck… lemme think…” Adora rubbed her temples. ”I think the first to go was Daisy’s little brother. Then it was Blackmore’s wife, her, Elsa, that Japanese gal… Wait, Elsa went down right before Kari if memory serves me right...”
“If she wasn’t the first, then the chance it was her is… slim,” Lihn said, tilting her head. “Especially if her friend went right before her. It doesn’t rule out her knowing something… if she is still alive.”
Adora shrugged.
”... I guess there’s only one way to really find out, right?”
Interactions: None
WinCo
Adora tried to make it seem like she tackled everything in her life with confidence, pride, and purpose.
Grocery stores were no exception.
She walked in, having parked her car a modest distance away, and prepared to be in and out. Despite it all, she was wearing a red hoodie, black sweatpants, a red fabric facemask, and running shoes. Adora wanted to say she was okay; a serial killer would never target her with this many people around, but who knew what was going to happen when magic got involved? Adora took a deep inhale and exhaled as she entered the WinCo, knowing that if her mental health prevented her from going to a fucking grocery store, then she should just give up now. She shook her head.
Adora was never going to give up.
She grabbed a basket, ignoring the sounds of mumbled chattering and carts rattling - though she always appreciated the smells of the baked goods and produce. However, as she approached the produce section, she could hear chatter between two older women - their husband's fishing trip. Adora rolled her eyes as she grabbed some bell peppers, threw them in her basket, and then grabbed some cilantro.
Through the storefront, the passing outline of a short pedestrian temporarily caught her eye.
The last time she’d seen him, he’d been dressed for charred rags, barely held together, but there wasn't a scratch to be seen on him anymore. A green-plaid lumberjack shirt, khaki pants, and navy blue baseball cap with a white ‘P’ emblazoned across the front, just about covering his brow. As far as subtlety went, he looked like someone dressed by their alcoholic grandpa, halfway through a pack of camels.
Adora narrowed her eyes at him… it was that kid. She couldn’t mistake it again, especially that weird ass aura that was around him. Though, she wasn’t going to let this slide, and she was going to put her foot down in regard to the weird little bastard. Without skipping a beat, she immediately closed the distance between the and approached him. She gave him a (sarcastic) smile, waved at him and said,
”... Hello there!”
For his part, Clancy offered her no expression of surprise. He was clutching a phone, half tucked into his pocket, something little too expensive for someone his age. ”Yeah. Hi.”
”... You’re still fooooooollowing me,” Adora said in a mocking sing-song - she remembered blowing up at the kid. ”Even after I told you to stay away from me…”
However, as the boy seemed ready to fire something back, another consideration popped into her head, as she knew just the answer as to why. Adora put a hand on her hip, and smiled. ”... Oh, wait, now I’m starting to get it. Sorry for blowing up at you at Kari’s house.”
That wasn’t quite the answer he’d expected, but he seemed curious as to her line of thought. ”You understand, then?” Clancy asked, brow arched, before breaking off from the agitated tirade he’d mentally prepared. ”That-... just, listen, I’m not good at talking with people like this. My family’s gone. Ashley was the last, and you-... the tree is the only part of her left. You’re all targets, and you especially with how often you’re on your own. If I’d wanted to-...”kill her, he thought, she’d have been dead a week ago. Instead, he discontinued that thought and let the conversation hang there.
”Why are you talking like you’re protecting me,” Adora began. ”You’re a child, whoever you are. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”
His response was nothing short of blunt.
”And the others didn't think so? I'm talking like someone being smart about this. You don't hang out with the others. You shop alone. You visit some shrink, but that's it. For all I know you spend all night sitting in the tub eating ice cream and listening to John Lennon. That sound like too much trouble for that asshole to handle?”
It wasn't contempt that fuelled the words, but it would've been difficult to discern nonetheless. Clancy had taken a proverbial jackhammer in his approach to conversation.
”Besides, I had to make sure you weren't part of the killing. Child or not, we wouldn't be talking if I thought you did it.”
Adora twisted her face up. There was something wrong with this kid.
”Oh naw, there ain't no ‘or not’,” Adora started off. ”I don't give a damn what you think you are: you’re a kid. And I know Ashley was your cousin, but that is adult business. Kids like you shouldn’t concern yourselves with this shit. You should be worried about riding your bike and chasing girls your own age.”
She paused for a moment, ”Matter fact, school is in. Go run off to class.”
”’Adult business’,” Clancy echoed, gesturing outwards with his other hand, before setting a palm on the pole of a street lamp.”That ship has sailed. No school. No bike. No... chasing. I don't get to have that anymore. Ashley was going to help me, but she's gone and I have nothing left!” The boy's gaunt expression and tone of speech betrayed a certain resignation. ”So again, I'll find the person who killed her. I'll make sure her friends, if that's what you really were, don't get killed the same shitty way. Then, when I'm done with Father Wolf? You can go back to pretending you're grown-ups until your turn comes.”
When he drew his hand back to his pocket, there were deep indents in the pole.
Adora tilted her head… there was something wrong with this boy. Not mentally, but what could that ditzy ass Ashley be helping him with. Though Adora put both of her hands up.
”... Let’s hold up here, kid,” Adora sighed. ”I feel you’re more than a kid. So, help me understand you. Who are you, and what is your current situation so maybe I can help?”
”I-..” Clancy hesitated, ”You’d regret knowing.”
”... And I already have a long list of things I regret knowing, what’s one more?” Adora laughed.
”I can’t die. I’ve... tried, so many times. Spent hours under the ice in a frozen river,” To get the point across, he rubbed at his shoulders, ”Rolled under a train,” then made a slicing gesture, dragging his index finger across his mid-section, “Hit by a truck,” and rapped his knuckles against the side of his forehead, ”“Shot enough times I should be rattling.”
”I don’t sleep. Didn’t dream, until I came here. And this.... what I am, it makes me hurt people. I can’t eat food, it’s like putting dirt in my mouth, but I'm always hungry. I lost control for a long time... I had to leave my family, because I was dangerous to them, and now they’re all gone. My parents. My brother. My sister died last year, and the only thing I had left after that was Ashley. And she understood, because you... went through what you did. I wasn’t alone. I might’ve had a way to stop it. Stop being hungry. Stop hurting people. But she’s dead now, and the only thing I want is Father Wolf.”
Adora was quiet.
”... Poor baby,” Adora said with a sigh. ”I was far from Ashley’s friend, but I am sorry for your loss.”
She reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, but he raised an arm to block the contact with the flat of his hand pressed backwards against her wrist. For the moment they touched, his skin was cold.”Don’t,” Clancy warned her. His tone was firm, but gentler than usual - none of the vitriol he usually reserved for such encounters,
Adora quickly pulled back.
”Okay, okay…” She softly said, respecting his personal space. Though, she had more to say, ”Now… I don't know much about magic, but it sounds like you’re cursed?”
Adora gave him a chuckle. ”While I personally don't know much, I know some people who do.”
”Like how Emily promised her pets she'd help them?” He shrugged, ”I don't see a way back from... this.”
”... And do I look like Emily’s crazy ass?” Adora smiled at the boy, ignoring the comparison between them. Emily helped herself, and Adora helped others. ”You don't see a way, or you just gave up? There is a world of difference, you know,”
”I'm tired. There's nothing out there for me. I wanted to do one good thing, which was to find the thing that... left me like this. Like your Snake. I wanted Ashley to help me destroy us both. Put that knife that kills ‘apparitions’ through its heart. Otherwise… I'll keep hurting people. I can't stop.”
”... That’s rough, buddy,” Adora coughed. There was a lot to this kid, yeah. It was kind of sad, but Adora wasn’t going to give him pity. She was going to give him a solution. ”So, you need the Apparition Killer, yes? I know it's missing, and I know the last person to have it was Ashley...”
And Adora had no clue where it could have gone, or who could have had it. In her opinion, probably someone from the Old Coven nabbed it. ”But, maybe ki- shit, I don’t even know your name.” Adora awkwardly laughed. ”I’ve seen magic do some nutty-ass things, there has to be something out there that can help you. Something that will give you a normal life and let you do kid things.”
”It's Clancy,” he answered, carefully selecting his wordd, ”I don't-.. I appreciate what you're offering, but I've tried before. Normal people get hurt. I can’t risk that on a something. It's too late for that.”
”Well, fine,” Adora shrugged. ”We’ll do things your way then, but I’m tellin’ you that you’re giving up too quickly.”
She shook her head, ”You gonna be at the next meeting, right?”
”It's the best lead I have.” Clancy tugged at an object deeper in his back pocket, fishing out a flip-phone that seemed particularly dated in his hands. He offered it out to her, ”You're… if you get cornered, call me. I've been holding onto it all day and figure you'd need it most. All the contacts in it are tied to one of my phones. Pay-as-you-go, so there's no contract tracking either.”
Adora chuckled as she took the phone.
”... You tryna’ get me arrested… kid?” She laughed. ”But, I don’t know who else you’re talking to from the Old Coven, but, just keep that ‘shrink’ I go to once a week between you and me, okay?”
”Had an uncle that didn’t like talking about his time in the marines, ‘some stories not yours to tell’,” the boy lightly tugged at his cap, ”This counts, I guess. Won't talk about your business.”
Adjusting the cap, Clancy glanced off to one side, Emily wanted the knife. For her friend if you believe her sisters. Ashley… said she wouldn't leave her alone. Just for that, I should-..”tear her apart, he thought but he trailed off, ”You think she'd know where to look? She tried to kill you too, unless you think being left to burn alive doesn’t count.“
”For the Apparition Killer?” Adora asked. ”Beats me to be honest, and Emily tried to kill all of us. She almost killed Sloane...”
”Still think she knows something she won’t admit, even if her sisters say there’s nothing. Could pay her a visit when she's sleeping. Just me. You know where I should look, if I wanted to get to her?”
”No clue to be honest,” Adora rolled her eyes. ”Though, you shouldn’t run there by yourself. She’s dangerous. They’re dangerous…”
”I keep hearing that.” Clancy shrugged, ”What's she going to do? Kill me?” A cackle, uncharacteristically child-like, erupted from his lips, ”If only it was that easy.”
”Hmph,” Adora cracked a grin. ”Don’t get cocky now; pride comes before the fall… but, if you’re that confident; go for it! Just don’t hurt a short, chubby girl with red hair...” She narrowed her eyes at Clancy as the boy cocked his head to one side.
”... I’m trying to get her on our side.”
”Ginger little teapot, short and stout,” Clancy rhymed, ”Got it. Luca seems to think some of them are okay, but I saw what they were doing at the dead girl’s cabin.”
He was about to turn away, when the thought occurred to him. ”Next meeting. When and where? I missed the invitation.”
”Later on today, at like six,” Adora shrugged. ”It’s going to be at the House on the Hill, some bar that closed some time ago. It has something to do with one of the Vanburens, that I know.”
”Rich kid stuff, I guess.” Clancy shook it off, ”I'll be around You're.. alright, at least.” It wasn't much, but as far as goodbyes went for him, it was complimentary.
”You too,” Adora began. ”... Stalking aside.” She teased.
That was when they parted ways, for now.
Sabrina Vanburen, Auri Auclair, & Nora Foster.
Interactions: The Whole ahh Coven
The House on the Hill.
Well, that was one bizarre adventure.
That was the most Adora had ever interacted with someone in ages. Adora talked to Greta, Luca, Stormy, Amara, Britney, Layla, Leon, Jack, Auri, Aislin, the Greenwood Coven, and that whacko Luna. Her social battery was near-empty, but it was time for the next meeting; this time, it was at some place in south St. Portwell. The House on the Hill. Some bar that got closed down some time ago, and Adora wondered if this was their 'new lair' as she pulled up in her red Nissan Altima. A few cars were parked there, and she sighed as she looked up at the staircase leading to the place.
It was daunting. Not because it was scary but because her anxieties made it difficult to get up and interact with the whole. A sad truth of being such a traumatized fuck up. However, more people were on the way, and the last thing that Adora wanted to do was look weak while standing there. She sighed again before she forced herself up the stairs and walked into the main room, and honestly, it had a lovely vibe. Dark, intimate, and a place where Adora would love to be taken on dates. There were bars and tables where other people were sitting and oddly enough, despite the bar being closed, it had a fully stocked bar. Opposite the bar was a stage with a piano... and Auri and some tall chick that she had never seen before were standing there (God damn, is there something in the water that makes MFs so big here...?). However, Adora leaned against the wall by the entrance, trying to remain lowkey, but she knew that wearing a red hoodie and tight jeans combo with some New Balance running shoes was the most minor inconspicuous thing she could wear. Wearing these jeans here took a lot of confidence, and she hoped the right person would notice, and she wouldn't be the eye candy for the perverts here...
God, I need to learn how to flirt.
It wasn't long before Auri took center stage and announced to the group. Adora couldn't help but dread the upcoming clusterfuck that was gathering all these crazy mfs in one room. She mouthed a quiet "Oh lord." as Auri began to speak
"Hello everybody, I hope you're all doing well!" Auri announced to the group, wearing a tan trench coat, jeans, and combat boots and holding the Butterfly Staff in one hand. "So, to begin, we have the Greenwood Coven coming to discuss an alliance with us and help us come up with a plan to handle the 8th St Coven. Oh yeah, and they said they're bringing pizza!"
Adora shrugged. That was expected She quietly thought to herself, though that didn't answer the question of the tall bitch.
"We also have another guest, I'll let her speak for herself..."
Sabrina stepped up, wearing an ankle-length, cream-colored skirt, a black turtleneck sweater, matching black ankle-length leather boots, and a belt... she had a fancy black leather purse hanging from her shoulder. She walked up with her hands together and a completely neutral expression. However, she gave them a wave and began,
"Hi, I'm Sabrina Vanburen. You may have heard the name Vanburen around town... for all the good and bad we do..." Sabrina rolled her eyes with a shrug. "But I heard you all are trying to get to the bottom of the murders and wish to help you all. I'm not a fighter by any means, but I have money and, most importantly, all influence, that I'm willing to lend to your cause." Sabrina nodded her head.
"... And I can also make you all cute costumes," Sabrina added. Adora facepalmed. "And to that end, I have hired someone who can help you all." Sabrina gestured to Nora, who was observing the whole group as they walked in. She wore a denim jacket, gray cargo pants, and brown work shoes. She had a real utilitarian vibe going on, compared to Sabrina.
"Nora, can you please come and introduce yourself and tell them what you can do?" Sabrina asked her.
”... And lemme guess, you're going to introduce us to someone, and then they're gonna introduce us to someone, and we gon' be here all day?” Adora joked as she cracked a grin.
”Unless you plan on getting well acquainted with a machine god, I’m all you’re getting,” Nora commented. ”My name’s Nora Foster. I build things, magic things. A weapon, a box that stitches up your injuries, engines that work more efficiently than anything you’ve ever seen. Sabrina told me to supply all of you with whatever it was you needed. She’s playing, so ask away.”
Interesting. Adora thought to herself as Nora explained.
“And are there any questions for me?” Sabrina asked. “I’m an open book.”
Shaquita Walker.
Interactions: None.
At the Strip Mall down the street from House on the Hill.
Shaquita made the most out of this duty.
Down the street from where the Coven met, Shaquita sat in the driver's side seat of an all-black SUV with tinted windows. The assignment was simple: wait for the "kid". Luis wanted him after what Shayton reported, and Shaquita knew he was serious about it if he was sending her. Shaquita had minimal information on the kid, but it wasn't like she was some scrub - she had killed some of the most dangerous men and women in the city already. She waited some distance away from the House on the Hill, in the parking lot of some strip mall, just waiting for when Tayla or Edict informed her that the kid had arrived, and all she had to do was wait for the perfect opportunity to grab him.
In the meantime, Shaquita had got herself some Shrimp Lo Mein.
Shaquit gently placed her phone in the mount and went through the bag, hoping that they hadn't forgotten they forgot the fork. Shaquita sighed as she exited the car, walked in, grabbed the fork, sat back down, and closed the door. Shaquita turned on some Netflix and watched a movie as she enjoyed the little bit of downtime that she had here...
Finally a fucking meeting that doesn't conflict with her work schedule. Unfortunately, she'll have to pay more for the daycare to keep her son passed her usual pick up time. They'll most likely be getting a ride home on the ferry, since all the fisherman are packing up for the day. Which, fine by her. She caught a bus to the south of town and arrived at a creepy looking house named after a movie. She had her headphones around her neck. She wasn't the only one to arrive on time.
She followed everyone into the house and took a seat at a table along the wall. She put her foot in the adjacent seat, so no one could sit next to her unless they were someone she fucked with. Namely, Sully, Greyson, and Tsukino. It's a reservation they didn't know she made. She tucked her hands into her pockets and leaned her head on the wall. She wondered what they weren't getting done today. Each meeting seemed like they were getting less and less fruitful.
Lo and behold, Auri starts talking about useless shit with 8th Street like that has anything to do with Father Wolf. When the floor was open for questions, she raised her hand. "Yeah, so, no questions for you specifically Sabrina. Nice to meet you by the way." She politely waved at her, before turning her attention to Auri. "Auri, can we focus on what we know about Father Wolf? 8th Street's only trying to kill a small percentage of the group. I've no beef with them, so they're not my problem unless I'm in close proximity to their targets. However, we're all Father Wolf's targets. We're better off talking about that when we're all gathered, and anyone that wants to volunteer their time for the 8th Street combat brigade can do that on another day. How many of us has 8th Street killed? Zero. How many of us has Father Wolf killed?"
She counted up on her fingers. "Nine before we got back together, and..." she held out her pinky, "Would you look at that. I've run out of fingers." She put her hands back in her pockets. "What? Three deaths over the last few weeks? So can we please focus on what we know? These weird dreams we've been having, the Recollections, Kari's notes going missing. Is any of that connected to our killer?"
She's so tired of the group getting sidetracked on shit that doesn't matter in the long scheme of things. The first night lead to a fight that put her back on her ex's radar, the second got the feds involved, they learned a little bit at the third meeting but got attacked, and now they want to focus on that, then on someone killing them when they can? Sweet fucking Jesus. And here Greyson almost made her feel bad for choosing to work with Dollhouse for protection. They know so little about Father Wolf that she doesn't even know if he knows she's Severed. At which point, her being here was all for nothing.
The Templeof AssCharming and Graceful Individuals.
“... Please.”
”No…”
“Please.”
”Ruby…”
“Please.”
”I don-”
“Please.”
”No!”
“Please.”
Greenwood (Sans Kashmira) stood in the Temple’s main hall, the one that Ruby destroyed a few days ago on the day of the Halloween Festival. She wore a red sweater and some khakis, with some timbs on. She held her tree branch in hand as the rest of Greenwood stood behind her.
”You don't ne-”
“Oh, come on! We just want some pizza!” Ruby shouted, “We’re not 8th St, we’re broke!” She scoffed.
“Offer to eat her ass!” Jessica shouted with a devious grin. She was wearing a white button up, jeans, and some cowboy boots.
“You know, Ruby, there’s an easy solution to your money problem,” Naomi said, wearing a Nike shirt, and some short-shorts. “You love eating ass but you do it for free. Just start turning tricks and get paid to eat ass! I bet it’s easy too: just put out an ad.”
“‘Will eat booty for 50$!’” Jessica said while waving her hand in front of her to accentuate her point.
“See?! She gets it!”
Ruby twisted her face up, “… Eating booty should be free.”
“But you can’t complain about being broke then!” Naomi shouted.
“… My lord, I’m getting a migraine listening to this,” Pearl said as she rubbed her temples. She wore a white dress with some boots.
“Just eat her ass in exchange for the pizza, we’re gonna be late!” Jessica shouted.
“That’s the same thing! Except without money!” Ruby complained.
“I mean we already told Sycamore that we’d bring pizza!” Jessica shouted back at hee. “We’re going to look like scrubs! Just do it!”
“… She has a point,” James said, while leaning up against the wall, cleaning his axe with a rag. He was wearing a grey hoodie and black sweatpants with some jordans.
Of course Lynette Richoux would do just about anything for her old apprentice. Her band of magical misfits were getting glares from some of the Temple members still present, save for the man Ruby knew as Furio. He was intently menacing Ruby specifically, a rifle dangling from its sling as he draped an arm across it. Lynette herself didn't seem particularly pressed, sitting on the edge of the stage from which she usually preached. She had a ceremony dress, as they were in the middle of wrapping up the first of the evening’s Masses when Greenwood arrived.
Probably on purpose.
”Eating ass properly is a public fucking service, let’s get that straight.” Lynette snapped, hoping that the statement would at least jive well enough that she’d get the attention of the baying hyenas in front of her.
“See, she gets it,” Ruby says.
”Second… What, am I your fucking bank account all of a sudden?-” a hand flicked up, waving between Ruby and herself. ”-It’s been a week Ruby. And, what, no visit? No coming to Mass? And you missed Casey’s Ascension Ceremony!”
”Not that anyone missed you, Brat.” Furio commented, his nose scrunching together. ”Untrue!-” Lynette replied, throwing a finger into the air. ”I did. And Elise did. That’s plenty. So, tell me how you’ll make that personal slight up to me, Miss Springtime.”
“Hey eat my ass, Furio!” Ruby hissed at him before she turned to Lynette, the rest of Greenwood (somewhat) silent. “Now, I didn’t visit because I was busy making moves! I’m trying to save the world here, lady! Not only did I officialize the alliance between Greenwood and the 317, but we’re working on Sycamore.”
“... Hey, wasn’t her son there?” Naomi asked.
“Hey, Naomi, pleeeeeeeeeeease!” Jessica laughed. “Does he look like the type to run and tell mommy everything?!”
Ruby stepped forward, passionately raising a fist in the air, “I think, together, we can rid the city of all the assholes, but we’re going to look like scrubs if we don’t bring some pizza! So help a girl out just this once!”
“... We could just knock over a pizza joint,” James grinned.
“Boy! We’re better than that!” Naomi laughed.
“Hey now,” Jessica laughed, jabbing a thumb in James’ direction. “... How did you think we got the axe?”
”Okay, but… Pizza? Great. Glad you want to officiate some sort of relationship between the groups. But-!” Lynette paused, holding her finger to her lips. ”-We have food here! Already made and absolutely delicious, made by Andrade and his students! All you’d have to do is heat it up, and it’d be way better than pizza.”
“Well, why didn’t you just-” Jessica tried to say before Ruby interrupted.
“... You do not want that food, Jess,” Ruby spoke in a low tone to her homie before turning to Lynette. “... Yes, the food made out of the fucking ghosts? Broooo, imagine going to this meeting, and we have a fucking cut-up Fire-God on one of those metal trays in plastic wrap.”
“Okay, okay,” Naomi rubbed her temples… in the temple. She stuck both hands out at Ruby, “Who are these people again?”
Ruby was quiet.
“Family.”
“Shit, I thought we were your family?!” Jessica laughed. “Or wait, or are these the old hoes you threw away when we came around?” Jessica gave her a shit-eating grin.
“Will you do the same to us?!” James scoffed, shocking offense and putting a hand on his chest. “I dunno, I’m having second thoughts about this Greenwood thing. Boutta go to the 317!”
”She’ll only throw you away when you’re truly worthless. She’s learned from the best!” Lynette’s hand brushed against Ruby’s cheek. ”And who better than the Lips of God? Right? Ruby?” Lynette stared at the girl intensely.
“... On their face, right?” Naomi asked.
”Or should I put it another way? God is not yours to hear. That duty is mine, and I find it insulting that you’d come here and expect things with nothing in return. Now, if you really want this pizza?” Freeing her hands, the woman undid her robes slightly, slipped a hand inside, and pulled out a small stack of business-card-sized papers. ”You’ll make sure that one of these ends up in every single Sycamore member’s hands. Or their pockets. Or, somewhere. Anywhere they’ll keep them.”
“I’ll stick it between their buttcheeks like they’re a stripper.” Ruby casually said.
All of Greenwood facepalmed.
Lynette smiled, biting her dark black tongue between her teeth. ”Spit it into their asses, you… Filthy filthy animal, you… Swear? Because you know I’ll know if you put them somewhere and forgot…” Lynette’s free hand lifted into the air, the sleeve falling back to reveal a stack of cash. ”Or… Do I really need to get you something more than pizza?”
“You know, I’m kind of interested in what they’re serving...” Jessica shouted, laughing.
Ruby winced before nodding, “... Whatever you ask, oh anointed one.” She gently tapped her staff on the ground. The room was silent for a moment before Ruby grabbed the papers with her free hand.
With the cards, Lynette handed Ruby the stack. It was a few grand at least by weight. ”Thank you, Graceguided. Now, take Leon with you.” Her eyes closed, and Lynette flinched momentarily before her smile returned. ”He’ll be right out.” she grinned, finally sliding back and pushing up to her feet on the stage, making her several feet taller than everyone else. ”And enjoy! Seriously, we absolutely love those Sycamore babies… Have fun with ‘em, they’re all tense these days!” she laughed loudly.
Ruby sighed as she gestured for the rest of Greenwood to come along, and they followed after her
It was a quiet morning at the Temple. Birds were chirping. A light drizzle, mist fogging the sky.
Before it was shattered.
A shattering that sounded like the snap of wood as a door was smashed through.
Layla fell through the door, splinters of wood in her white hair as she smashed into the railing of the outside walk. With a huff, she scrambled to her feet, wheezing, needle in her hand.
From within the darkness of her suite, a hellhound leapt out, jaws trained on her neck. With swift fingers, leaning to dodge, Layla jammed the needle into the hellhound's neck, and the shadow mutt fell limp.
A hand gripped the frame of the door, and Kipnu, his mask half shredded off, revealing a void underneath, growled in rage as he stared at Layla.
“You sorry-ass bitch! You're gonna regret this! By the time I'm done with you, you're gonna wish I'd just kill you!”
Layla took that as her cue, and she took off, half-tumbling down the staircase to the ground level, and out of the Temple grounds.
Down the road, and into as much urban landscape as she could, diving into alleyway after alleyway.
She knew they could smell her. She just had to buy herself a little time-
Her pocket buzzed. With a huff, Layla pressed herself against the alley wall, pulling out her phone and pressing it to her ear.
“What?!”
A sweet voice was on the other end. “Hey, uh, it's Aislin. I heard Adora-”
“Don't have the fucking time- I'm on Rodrigo Road, heading east. Come quick!”
“What-?”
Before Layla hung up, shoved the phone in her pocket, and continued running.
After several minutes of heavy foot pounding, making tracks, Layla found herself in a graveyard, the trees giving little in the means of cover. She growled under her breath, running as fast as she could down the gravel road down the middle.
Before she was clotheslined at the side, and fell head first into the grass and mud. A huge eldritch arm pressed down on her chest, phalanges curling around her shoulders, her neck. Bahlok walked into her vision, holding her tightly. Her red smile was contorted into a flat snarl.
“You never learn, do you?”
A moment later, Layla huffed as a foot pressed down on her temple, forcing her to look at the gravestone beside her. ‘Linda R. Goodsworth’. That's what the engraved stone had written on it. Some poor soul that now had to deal with a violent murder on their tombstone.
If she was lucky enough to get murdered.
She knew who's boot was on her face, and she snarled, trying to move.
“Yeah, keep struggling, you little bitch.” Kipnu growled above her. “I can't believe you. First you don't give a shit about Bahlaas missing. And now you want to seal us? I'm not letting you go to the meeting later today. No. Instead, why don't we see how your hands look without fingernails. Huh?” He bit out, pressing her face further into the dirt.
Layla's struggles weakened, focusing more on breathing. She could feel tears pricking her eyes, but she wouldn't let them see they were getting her. She'd never let them see her fear again if she could help it.
The foot moved away from her face, and Kipnu's gloved hand grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look up at him. At the needle he held, hovering over her face.
“You'll like this concoction. Burning pain for the next twelve hours. Like your insides are being cooked. Sound like fun?” He asked, shaking her face a little, gripping tighter.
“Stop what you're doing right now!” A voice called out, and the earth suddenly moved under Layla. Kipnu barely had time to look before a wave of grass, mud and dirt steamrolled him and Bahlok, shoving them both under the earth where they belonged - six feet under. They'd have no choice but to run back to the Void.
With the monsters gone, Aislin scrambled up from the dirt where she had staged her attack, and pulled Layla into her lap. “Oh my, are you okay?”
Layla took ragged breaths, eyes slowly focusing on Aislin. “...Good timing.”
Aislin smiled, gently pulling Layla onto her shoulder and walking her out of the graveyard. “You should have said something sooner. Looked pretty dire, you know?”
Layla stumbled as she walked, recovering her breath, wincing as she stepped.“I just have to survive until the meeting… Mind if we uh… stick together until then?”
Aislin helped guide a limping Layla to a barstool as Sabrina spoke. Layla didn't look so hot, with bandages along her chin and hands. Curiously enough, she was dressed in a black dress, contrary to her usual blues. Very curious, but went in keeping with her new home…
With Layla situated, Aislin gave a little ‘Hi Bean!’ with a wave as Sabrina concluded her speech. She fiddled with the sleeves of her hoodie, taking a seat beside Layla as a person she didn't recognize, Nora, spoke to them.
As Nora mentioned building magical things, Aislin's jaw dropped a bit, her mind racing with possibilities. But before she could ask a question, little Layla spoke up.
“Can you make anything that hurts apparitions?” She asked, her tone plain and innocent.
”So can we please focus on what we know? These weird dreams we've been having, the Recollections, Kari's notes going missing. Is any of that connected to our killer?”
As Tayla spoke, another figure entered the room. There was no mistaking that jet-straight white hair and those sharp eyes. Luna had her felt coat wrapped over an arm, dressed in a cute blouse and slacks.
“I dug something up.” She offered to the collected group, eyes leveling at Tayla. “I think you'll like what I found.”
This time, no games. No tricks. She wasn't spying. No. This time, it was a desperate play to see if it'd stick; if they'd chase her away again or let her stay.
Luna ignored the stares, walking behind the bar, dropping her coat on the counter while she rooted through the cabinet, finding some alcohol and a glass, and pouring herself a straight shot. She'd need it. And she was sure the hostess wouldn't mind a small indulgence.
She toasted the room, before she took a sip of the drink, and said, “I know who Kari was working for. And I know where the notes are.”
Bé 《》 St. Portwell, Oregon [ The Hermit's Shack in the Woods ] 《》 Haunted 《》 [@AeolianBé, Marceau, Cousin Gisèle, The Hermit]
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The memory came to him like an ominous wind that billowed madly from the skies. A young boy, ripe and blue-eyed, lay on a rickety old table. The voice overhead was feeble, like a blue-lipped ghost, drawn into focus by a flick of the light, and only then could he make out two eyes the color of horror and darkness. He tried to stir, to shake himself loose, but those empty, abyssal eyes held him steady. There were no chains; nothing corporeal bound him to that table other than the glare of those unnatural eyes. They were like ink. If he reached out, he could almost feel them stain his fingers. His gaze filled with a mist. The eyes were fading, but so was everything else...
When Bé came to, salty beads of sweat had fallen onto his lips. He sat up, wiping them from his brow and forehead with a silk handkerchief pulled from his coat pocket. Marceau was driving while Gisèle sat quietly beside him, fidgeting with her phone, an exasperated look on her countenance. She turned to him, "You're awake. I can't get any signal out here..."
They were driving through the forest on an old, dirt road. The brush had become overgrown and had it not been for Marceau's keen sense of direction, they surely would have gone off the broken path. Bé pulled out his phone, looking at it coldly, "Likewise."
As they trudged on, the moonlight that illuminated the forest seemed to dim, lost behind a veil of menacing shadows. His mother had warned him of this prior to his sudden departure from Paris. She had said, "When the moon disappears, you're almost there." It had been a rather tense couple of days leading up to D-day. He and his mother were not on speaking terms; they only shared curt text messages about how his preparations were progressing. Gisèle had certainly felt the distance that bloomed between them. Bé hadn't uttered so much as a word to her and the growing partition erected between like a Babylonian fortress knawed at her thoughts.
Marceau tried to comfort her, to tell her that Bé would get over it eventually once the dust settled. But would he? Bé was not known to be forgiving, and any sense of betrayal was a grave offense to his personhood. Had she betrayed him by not fighting harder to contest his mother's behest?
In any case, what was done was done, she relented. When they finally arrived at their destination, Marceau was the first to step out of the car. "What a dump." he said carelessly. Bé stepped out the SUV, followed by Gisèle. "You should feel right at home then," he responded cooly. Bé looked around. Through the thickness of the forest was a glade. The moon had come back from hiding and illuminated, at the center of the glade, an old two-story cabin made of worn, splintered wood. The windows were cracked, and a chimney atop filled the skies with warmth and smoke. He could make out the glimmer of candlelight from the bottom window closet to the front door.
Why did this place feel, familiar somehow? He had not been here before, surely. He would know if he had, and yet, the feeling of "home" pricked at his skin like a tiny, persistent needle. Had he imagined those shadowy eyes? It was likely but a dream he cared to soon forget. Once his mind had cleared itself of the intruding thought, Bé and Gisèle shared a queer gaze and then slowly set forth toward the shack. After one final, brief pause, Marceau knocked on the door. They could hear shuffling from inside the cabin, the jingle of chimes, and the rattling of stone on iron.
When the door creaked open, an old man wearing a turban and loose cloth stood before them. He was short, no taller than 5'2". He had a full beard and appeared haggard and gaunt like a skeleton. His eyes were milky and white, though Bé could have sworn he recognized the shape and fold of his eyelids. Oddly familiar. The entire house held the redolence of boiling venison and other unfamiliar, highly unpleasant smells. The man inhaled fumes from a strange, ornate pipe balanced between his lips and blew out smoke right into their faces. Marceau smirked, amused at the greeting. Gisèle coughed, while Bé covered his nose, unamused. After a brief silence, Bé gathered himself once the reality of where they were had finally settled like a blanket of morning dew, "Are you Salazaar?"
Salazaar looked at them one by one, but his gaze remained firmly on Bé the longest. Those misty, silver eyes moved up and down Bé's silhouette as though he were analyzing his form for imperfections and cracks.
"You've grown well." he finally said with a slight, almost imperceptible, upturn of the corner of his lips.
Bé lifted an eyebrow, "Pardon?"
Salazaar chuffed, "Come in. You're letting out my heat."
Salazaar the Hermit
Gisèle, Bé's Cousin
Marceau, Bé's Bodyguard
Todd 《》 St. Portwell [ Todd's Family Farm and Orchard ] 《》 Pained 《》 [@AeolianTodd, Aunt Esadowa, @BlizzStormy]
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Life had taken a rather sudden and unfortunate turn for Todd as of late. He had not experienced a good night's rest since his partner's tragic murder at the hands of an unknown assailant, and every night, his crumpled form, balled up like an agonized fetus, convulsed and sodded the sheets in sticky sweat. He'd wake up screaming and clawing at his chest until his sister, the eldest of his family, Esadowa, would rush in to comfort him with one of her specialty sleep tonics she called Lull. After a certain point, Todd would find himself in the basement, having slipped through the floor in his sleep after another horrific night terror wreaked havoc on his psyche.
And so, because he could not find peace at night, he spent his waking days preoccupied with a million-and-one tasks to complete. If he was not tending to the garden, then he was working to repair the roof, and if he was not doing that, then he was building a new bookshelf to accommodate his daughter's ever-growing book collection and so on and so on, as the days seemed to drag with his heavy gossamer heart. Aunt Esadowa had left her luxury high-rise in Seattle to return to the farm and assist her mentally ailing brother, who, with each passing day, seemed to lose himself more and more.
But in a family of workaholics and busy bees, Aunt Esadowa was almost certain Todd was the most hardworking of them all. But even for him, this was...extreme. It wasn't until he received a call from Auri about coven murders that it all started to click. What began as nothing but a blip of a thought, festered like a wild and untamed weed, until the idea took root and could not be dislodged no matter how much he tried. Once he was sure of himself, he pulled his sister into the greenhouse after supper and confessed.
"I'm going back to the coven," he said, determination emanating from his eyes. His two children were playing outside, so Esadowa shut the door quietly so as not to alert the them and turned to him with furrowed brows, "What?"
"I'm going back to the cov..." he repeated.
Esadowa put her hands up like a protesting mime, "No no, I heard you. I just...do not understand why you would go back at this point in your life. You have children."
Todd stepped away from her, picking up a pot of soil, and began tending to the sprouting that crested slightly from the surface. He spoke softly, "Yes. And that is exactly why I have to return." He paused, turning over the soil with his fingers before continuing, "I didn't tell you this before, but I received a call. Former coven members are being hunted and murdered like cattle. I cannot sit idly by and wait for someone to come after me next."
His sister followed him over, standing on the opposite side of the table so she could face him, "That is serious. But what about your children? Will you just abandon them for your old...friends?"
"That's why I need you to stay here, at least for a while longer, just until I can help them figure this all out. My staying here, near my children, puts their lives at risk just as much as it does yours. I can protect all of you if I leave and stop this psychopath."
Esadowa went quiet for a moment. This was not an easy request to spring on her so suddenly. A few weeks off was one thing, but who knew how long this would go on for. Weeks, months, half a year? She had her life, a career, and a wife back in Seattle that required her attention. She couldn't just compromise her current obligations, could she? Should the children come stay with her in the city? Todd looked out toward his children playing on the old family swing he'd repaired last summer, and a thick, heavy tear fell down his cheek. He wiped it away on his sleeve before turning his gaze back Esadowa, his countenance all the more grave with desperation.
"Esa, please. I have to do this. I have to. Let me keep you all safe. I need this."
After a heavy silence, Esadowa sighed.
"Okay, let me make some calls," She relented, crossing the table to hug him warmly. That was all Todd needed. He was sure he was making the right decision for children. At the very least, he hoped so.
That night, Todd called someone he had been very close to within the Old Coven, someone who felt like a true brother. The call went straight to voicemail, so he left a message instead.
"Stormy, my friend, it has been a long while since we've seen each other, hasn't it? I'm sorry that I am only now returning.
*There was a brief silence*
My wife is dead. Nova is dead. I...I don't know what else to do other than to come back and help put an end to this madness. I have to protect my children. It's the only way. Please call me when you're able. Can we meet? Perhaps with the other members? At least...those who can. I'll do everything I can to help. I've missed you all, my friend. Let's put an end to this.
"Auri, can we focus on what we know about Father Wolf? 8th Street's only trying to kill a small percentage of the group. I've no beef with them, so they're not my problem unless I'm in close proximity to their targets..."
So, the fact that Sloane almost died, they tried to burn the house down with us in it and sicced an army of zombies on us doesn't matter? Adora thought to herself. Adora didn't recognize her, though the way she made it clear that she didn't care about Emily gunning for them made Adora want to keep it that way. However, it was clear that this gal cut and ran the second Emily and her goons showed up, so that was probably it. However, the idea that they should just ignore Emily was foolish.
However, Adora just kept her mouth shut.
Just this once.
The last thing that Adora wanted to do was seem like she was defending Auri's leadership, so she just kept her mouth shut (Adora wasn't being spoken to anyhow). That said, she wasn't wrong when she spoke of the murders and how they're all targets here... the truth is, and if anyone in this room thought otherwise, they should just yeet themselves back into their cave, Auri has no clue. She never did, and she probably never will. Adora preemptively rolled her eyes when Auri opened her mouth to speak, waiting for the most useless babble to spew forth from her mouth.
Tsukino walked in.
Adora narrowed her eyes at the gal as she, once again, strutted in like she owned the place. Adora didn't trust her, Adora didn't like the fact that she was following her around yesterday taking pictures, and she thought that Luna had a screw loose or two; however, as the Flower Shop Pow-Wow proved (other than the fact that they cannot come together worth shit), she's apart of a bigger and more dangerous organization. Thus, for once, Adora will have to place her faith in Greyson's ability to string her along (if that sneaky bastard isn't in on it).
“I dug something up. I think you'll like what I found. I know who Kari was working for. And I know where the notes are.”
”... Well?! I'm not standing here for my health!” Adora shouted, leaning forward as she stared at Luna anxiously. One that she hoped would convey that she wanted Luna to get to the fucking point already instead of all these theatrics. ”You talked real big yesterday, Tsukino. Well, guess what? It's time to back it all up....”
Anya arrived to the coven meeting early. Her weekend had been spent peacefully seeing clients and making a deal with the House of Cards… one she would need to discuss with Greyson soon. Not at this meeting, of course. Not in the waking world either.
There had been another strange dream last night she couldn’t control - a dream recollection, clearly. Yet another thing on the teetering stack of things she had to discuss with her few close confidantes. Really, it was surprising no one had come to her about them. It was her field of expertise, after all. Then again, most here didn’t know when to admit they needed help.
The meeting location this time was more appropriate, and hopefully unlikely to be burnt down. She took a seat at an empty table, since she couldn’t see Sloane yet, and waited for things to finally start.
And they did… with two new faces. Another Vanburen. Anya raised an eyebrow. She really couldn’t escape the Vanburens these days. Of course, Sabrina’s offer of wealth and influence wasn’t something Anya was interested in. Not because she didn’t want those, but rather she already had a direct connection to the most rich and influential Vanburen.
”It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sabrina,” Anya said evenly with a smile. ”“I hope you're more reasonable than the Vanburen that used to be part of her coven. How is Patricia, by the way? Like with all the members that didn't return, I was concerned for her… she seems most likely to be caught out alone. And she does a great deal for the flowers of St Portwell.”
Of course, Anya knew very well how Patricia was doing - at least that she’d fallen in with Leon’s family. There was absolutely no need to be concerned, but she needed to be up the front.
”A pleasure to meet you too, Nora.”
Someone who could build magic things… Now she was certainly an asset. Something for Anya to think on.
”Tayla, don’t you remember the recollection? 8th Street has Kari’s notes,” Anya turned to look at the other woman with a calm smile. ”But I do, otherwise, agree that we can’t just discard our other concerns to solely focus on 8th Street. No one has discussed these clearly important dreams we’re all having. Really, they’re recollections in a dream form. Immutable. Someone- or something- is showing us images of the past. If we have the time and capacity, we should look into Raven Jones.”
”But- and this is an important but- 8th Street are trying to kill us just as much as Father Wolf is. Emily won’t leave us alone. Much like Father Wolf, she’ll move onto the next target for a perceived slight. And we should protect our own, from any threat.”
And an alliance with Greenwood would only benefit them. Probably.
Her gaze moved past Tayla to the newcomer- no, intruder. She was surprised she’d had the gall to turn up. But then again, Luna had always been rather… stupid. Not knowing when to stay away, and not even knowing how to spy well in the first place. It was the main reason she didn’t want her deal with Valencia shared with Luna - she would so quickly spill it to everyone else before Anya could use it to their advantage.
”Yes, Tsukino, do tell us what you know. We don’t have all day.”
”... Well?! I'm not standing here for my health! You talked real big yesterday, Tsukino. Well, guess what? It's time to back it all up....”
Ah yes, Adora. Luna mildly thought back to the fiasco at the mall, how she got caught bad by Greenwood. And Adora had her fun grillin’ her. Sigh. Luna suppressed a grimace, remembering she’d be seeing Greenwood again tonight.
That was all water under the bridge. Wasn’t it? After all, she was a changed woman now! Greyson’s intervention and all. Oh yes, keeping her nose clean. Proving her usefulness. And useful as hell she would be, if she could help it.
”Yes, Tsukino, do tell us what you know. We don’t have all day.”
Luna’s cool gaze turned to Anya, her face remaining neutral. Yes, yes, Anya. In thick with Sloane, and her own rules of manipulation. Luna wondered how many photos she had of Anya in her little ‘collection’... capturing intimate moments over these days and weeks, like her little ‘date’ with the feds. She wondered what Anya’s reaction would be like if she knew. Ah, yes! Luna gained a wistful look, savouring the imagined fury Anya would unleash at her. Truly, something special.
Before her face grew serious. She moved the glass to the side, pressing her hands on the counter as she leaned forward, addressing the group.
“Does the name Blake Schmidt ring any bells? It probably won’t, for most of you. The bastard runs a group called the Elite.”
Her fingers laced together as she recounted the well-interrogated and well-paid for information her ‘friends’ had gone through the trouble of getting for her to light up, right in this moment.
“Kari was working for them. Had her sniffing out artifacts. After Kari died, disappeared, whatever, he employed 8th Street to ransack her home specifically for those notes.”
She leaned over, picking up her glass again and swirling it slightly, head tilted up. “Those notes… well. They’re in his possession now.”
A drop of fire disturbed the coolness in her eyes, betraying excitement as she continued to speak. “I have a plan on how to aqquire them. Blake’s looking for someone to decode them. I can have my associates reach out, offer to decode them, and bam, the notes will be ours to decipher.”
”I can make things for Apparitions, yeah,” Nora said, answering the scruffy looking girl. ”Generally speaking, it’s less a matter of what I can put together and more a matter of how long I have to do it. Some things take longer, depending on specifics like the size or raw power of something. If I really wanted to, I could make a whole car out of scrap that split open wormholes. Granted, it could take a whole year, but that’s the kind of thing I’m capable of.”
Nora didn’t have a clue who this Kari person was. She just smiled and nodded at the people who acknowledged her. ”Should I… Actually be standing here for this? Sounds personal.” To her credit, Nora didn’t seem phased by the mention of a serial killer.
“I have a plan on how to aqquire them. Blake’s looking for someone to decode them. I can have my associates reach out, offer to decode them, and bam, the notes will be ours to decipher.”
”Yes, because they would hand such a thing over to us willingly.”
”Wh-“ Nora spun around and pointed a hand at the guy who just scared the shit out of her. It was Jack, leaning against a wall, arms crossed with a look pointed at Luna. The hand Nora pointed at him quickly went from a hand of flesh to a gun barrel of brass.
”How- How long have you been standing there?” She asked, composing herself.
”Long enough.”
”…Do you do that often?”
Jack waved her off and changed the subject. ”I knew Kari well enough that I would not trust her notes with a group of criminals like your “associates.” And if this Blake Schmidt is clever enough to employ 8th Street to do his work for him, then he may be resourceful enough to know that we are searching for them right now.” So how, exactly, do you intend to withhold the fact that you are connected to us when you offer your services to him?” He asked.
”Several of us have not made a very concerted effort to be subtle about their actions, since the day we reunited. It would not be difficult for anyone to identify which of us are former coven members, or still maintain ties to us. If you offer to translate those notes, what will you do if he suspects you will hand them to us? Kari’s grasp of the paranormal was one that many people coveted, people die in conflicts over it. The chances of that plan succeeding are low at best.”
Nora whispered to Sabrina, ”…He talks a lot, doesn’t he?”
Layla perked up as Nora said everything and anything was possible.
“Then… now this is just an idea, but… maybe I could uh, commission a type of cattle prod, something that causes pain for apparitions? Something where I can take measured control on them…?” She said, choosing her words carefully as she spoke.
”I knew Kari well enough that I would not trust her notes with a group of criminals like your “associates.”
Luna looked over at Jack, pressed up against the wall, edgy and cool-looking. Typical of the shadow weaver. She recounted the information she had on him, and a sick pleasure welled in her chest.
Oh, she had a huge bone to pick with him. And he positioned himself in such a way that she could stick him with a needle, and finally clear the air.
She started off easy, allowing a cruel smile to smirk itself across her face, head inclining forward. “Ah. Why don't we just be honest here, Jackie, and say what's really on your mind? You just don't like me, do you?”
She downed the rest of her drink, heavens knew she would need it for this next bit. A quick wipe of her mouth, before she shrugged. “Well. Might as well address the elephant in the room. You can't do better than what I've proposed, and you hate it. What, you think my friends care about Sycamore? News flash, not anymore. But let's not cloud your judgement. I mean, the judgment of a traitor.”
Her cruel smile widened. “What, you thought I'd forget your little stint with Layla?”
Her head turned over to Layla, sitting in the bar stool only a few feet away. “Layla, why don't you tell them where you got those bandages from, hm?”
Layla immediately flushed. “I… I don't want to talk about it.”
Luna slapped the counter. “Oh come on, don't be shy. Really, you might as well scrawl ‘Jackie’ on each cut and bruise.”
Her eyes returned to Jack, a lightness in her voice that made everything she said seem far less demonic than it actually was. “You know she deals with worse than the Void Heart now, yes? I've dealt with them directly, so you can't call me out on my bullshit. Little Voidy was a soul-sucker. But the new breed you unleashed?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Humans. Raw, half-alive, screaming. That's what they eat. With pleasure. That's what you did to her. What you released onto the world.”
Layla looked like she was about to cry. “Luna!”
Luna just snorted through her nose, eyes half lidded as her head rolled to the side like Valencia's would. “Layla, why you look like you ought to be in a hospital bed than here, huh? Tell me, tell us, don't be shy.”
Layla was silent.
Luna's cold smile only widened, her voice sickly sweet. “You were attacked, weren't you?”
More silence.
Luna turned her attention back to Jack, amusement still making her tone light.“And you dare to question the god-send of a solution I've proposed for you. My ‘friends’ get what they want. And if they don't? We take Blake by storm, you and your alliances, and we beat him until he tells us the exact location of those notes.”
Mentions: Jack Hawthorne, Kari Wilson | Direct Dialogue: Luna Inoue/@Estylwen, The Meeting Attendants | Location: The House on the Hill
A door opened and closed somewhere in the dark behind Jack. It was messy clattering, and then Kenshiro immerged from the hole just in time to hear people talking about Kari's notes. Mostly he was trying to keep up with Jack, who just plain moved faster than him. However, things were already spiraling into the blame game again. Him piping up wasn't going to do anyone any good, so rather than make a big stink, Ken chose to hone in on the situation at hand. He knew Inoue by her unique look, hard to forget the girl who dressed like a gangster with the face of a geisha.
"And if they don't? We take Blake by storm, you and your alliances, and we beat him until he tells us the exact location of those notes."
"Inoue-San... Why don't we skip the light work, huh?" he asked in Japanese, barely understandable to a modern tongue before swapping back to English for the wider group. "There's absolutely no way we should be conceding ground at this point. Give no quarter: If they've got Kari's things, that means they're open enemies. If they're open enemies, I think we should lop their metaphorical heads off now, and reclaim what we want before they have any more time to mount a counter. Its bad enough that 8th Street has a chance of giving away that we know her notes are gone, we don't need them also knowing that we found out who has them."
“Does the name Blake Schmidt ring any bells? It probably won’t, for most of you. The bastard runs a group called the Elite.”
Surprisingly, it rang a bell to Adora because she worked for one of his subsidiaries, and Kari was his secretary. She had no idea who the Elites were; going off the name, Adora knew this was not going well. Sabrina seemed worried for a moment before her face turned neutral and silent. However, she kept listening to see what else Luna had to say and how all of this tied together.
“Kari was working for them. Had her sniffing out artifacts. After Kari died, disappeared, whatever, he employed 8th Street to ransack her home specifically for those notes. Those notes… well. They’re in his possession now. I have a plan on how to aqquire them. Blake’s looking for someone to decode them. I can have my associates reach out, offer to decode them, and bam, the notes will be ours to decipher.”
Adora crossed her arms as Luna spoke... she wasn't sure about all of this, but she wasn't sure if it was her personal bias against Luna or if there was something else. However, there was one thing that stuck out to Adora.
“... my associates...”
”... Lotta emphasis on associates there, Luna,” Adora cracked a wry grin at her. However, Jack's creepy ass appeared out of the blue - as usual.
”... I knew Kari well enough that I would not trust her notes with a group of criminals like your “associates.” And if this Blake Schmidt is clever enough to employ 8th Street to do his work for him, then he may be resourceful enough to know that we are searching for them right now.” So how, exactly, do you intend to withhold the fact that you are connected to us when you offer your services to him? Several of us have not made a very concerted effort to be subtle about their actions, since the day we reunited. It would not be difficult for anyone to identify which of us are former coven members, or still maintain ties to us. If you offer to translate those notes, what will you do if he suspects you will hand them to us? Kari’s grasp of the paranormal was one that many people coveted, people die in conflicts over it. The chances of that plan succeeding are low at best.”
He went on a long triad that had Adora wondering if his abstraction involved a supernatural ability to hold his breath. Adora massaged her temples as he spoke - however, longwinded as it was, Jack hit the nail on the head. Will Blake part with the notes willingly? Can they trust her mafia? From what Adora heard from Brit and the others, this mafia had a creepy interest in the old Coven and wanted to recruit literal children. Now that was the craziest thing that Adora had ever heard (Well, other than the fact that a magic snake metaphorically fucked the city with its hemipenis and got stopped by a spicy sword), but from the sounds of it, they groomed the fuck out of Luna here and wanted to do the same to the rest of them.
A room full of broken and lost people would be excellent mafiosos.
Adora sighed; if Luna’s "associates" were anything like the stories she had heard, then trusting them with Kari’s notes was a gamble (at best).
”Now, Luna, Tsukino - whatever - I'm going to give you a rare opportunity here,” Adora said with a toothy smile and clapped her hands together. She kept constant eye contact with Luna as she said, ”We're going to forget ALL about what happened yesterday, and we're going to start fresh, okay? Okay.”
That was just a preface; Adora had a bit more to say but wanted to ensure that Luna knew this came from the most pragmatic corner of her mind! She continued, ”First of all, this sounds too good to be true. You're telling me that all we need to do is let your associates do all the work, and Blake will just hand it over? That's it? Easy peasy? We all know it ain't gonna be that simple...” She shook her head.
Adora finally got off the wall, took a few steps off the wall, and walked towards Luna... slowly. She didn't want to make it seem like she was about to attack her and end up bleeding out on the floor. Adora came to a stop some distance away from Luna and continued, ”Secondly, even if they get the notes, what's stopping your people from just keeping them? Far as I can tell, your mafia has no reason at all to give them to us, and don't give a damn about us no how.”
She paused for a moment before she added.
”... They're a mafia.”
Adora paused to let her words hang in the air. ”Thirdly - This is getting long, I know - and this is important, is there any way we can confirm any of t-”
“Ah. Why don't we just be honest here, Jackie, and say what's really on your mind? You just don't like me, do you? Well. Might as well address the elephant in the room. You can't do better than what I've proposed, and you hate it. What, you think my friends care about Sycamore? News flash, not anymore. But let's not cloud your judgement. I mean, the judgment of a traitor. What, you thought I'd forget your little stint with Layla?”
Then Luna shot back at Jack.
Adora couldn't help but facepalm. They didn't have time for this! Adora knew all about what she was going to say.
“Layla, why don't you tell them where you got those bandages from, hm?”
“I… I don't want to talk about it.”
“Oh come on, don't be shy. Really, you might as well scrawl ‘Jackie’ on each cut and bruise.”
”Luna.”
“You know she deals with worse than the Void Heart now, yes? I've dealt with them directly, so you can't call me out on my bullshit. Little Voidy was a soul-sucker. But the new breed you unleashed? Humans. Raw, half-alive, screaming. That's what they eat. With pleasure. That's what you did to her. What you released onto the world.”
“Luna!”
“Layla, why you look like you ought to be in a hospital bed than here, huh? Tell me, tell us, don't be shy.”
”Luna.”
A blood vessel was about to explode in Adora's head. This was so stupid and such a waste of time.
“And you dare to question the god-send of a solution I've proposed for you. My ‘friends’ get what they want. And if they don't? We take Blake by storm, you and your alliances, and we beat him until he tells us the exact location of those notes.”
”... LUNA!”
Adora shouted at the top of her lungs, both hands balls into a fist, and shook them by her hips
She was getting pissed, really regretting letting bygones be bygones when they had important work to talk about, and she knew precisely what Tsukino was doing. Adora then said,
”We need to focus on the matter at hand, and while I do care about what happened to Layla and I will be helping her, this ain't the time or place,” Adora exhaled, and crossed her arms. "I'm gonna be real with you here: this plan sounds shady as all hell.” Adora huffed before she continued, poking her fingertips into her chest.
"It's just, it's just... I don't trust it, I don't trust your people, and I don't trust you,” Adora sighed before she leaned up against the bar. ”We need something within our control, not one that pretty much leaves us at the mercy of people who will turn on us the second it's convenient for them.”
Adora crossed her arms; she was getting long-winded here! ”Now, don't get the idea that I'm riding you; I meant what I said earlier. I just don't think it's the best idea, and we cannot afford to take chances right now with the murders and all the people that want to wring our necks. We need to take a step back and make a plan that's in our control.”
She sighed.
”... We owe that much to Kari.”
"There's absolutely no way we should be conceding ground at this point. Give no quarter: If they've got Kari's things, that means they're open enemies. If they're open enemies, I think we should lop their metaphorical heads off now, and reclaim what we want before they have any more time to mount a counter. Its bad enough that 8th Street has a chance of giving away that we know her notes are gone, we don't need them also knowing that we found out who has them."
Kenshiro, of course, comes in with the dramatics... openly sounding like an anime character. Though he has a point with not wasting time, Adora did not want a fight if they could avoid it.
”Whooooooooa, there big guy,” Adora chuckled. ”We got the Feds on our ass, remember? We don't need to give them more ammo - and this reminds me of what I was gonna say before I was interrupted...”
She slapped a hand on her hip loudly, sassily turned to Luna, and raised an eyebrow.
”... Do we have any concrete information? Anything to confirm what you're saying other than 'trust me, bro'...?” She slightly tilted her head.
Mentions: Britney Williams, Linqian Han | Direct Dialogue: Layla Hyacinthus, Adora Phoenix-Prescott, The Gathered Coven | Location: Edict's Car > The House on the Hill
Edict never loved waiting around at the Temple. So, he was glad when Leon had him come out to their apartment building by the Port, pulling up outside and rattling off a quick text to Britney; a silly meme about a show they'd started watching together in the little spare time they had together. It was mostly to see if she'd ping him back with a response in a decent amount of time. He could trust they were safe if she kept responding, and he didn't exactly care how annoying it was. Leon was another story. Edict had set up the meeting on Sunday after quietly attending a particular ceremony for the Temple as a courtesy, and as he waited around longer and longer in his running car, he watched the precious time they had to talk business dying away as the Sycamore meeting at the abandoned club got closer and closer. He felt it was important for both of them to show up, even if showing up together looked bad. Last time, of course, it ended bad too. The church raid. There was no way they were going through that again, even though he didn't really have any solid plan to prevent it. It was more of a prayer, or some kind of manifestation energy, than any reality he could create by himself.
Leon, having already woken up late, immerged from the apartment building with just about enough driving time to make it to the club on time if red lights proved kind. Edict could see the telltale signs of Leon's abstraction working overtime to heal his ass, not least of which was the half shredded clothing he was wearing. The giant man dropped a duffle bag on the street, pointing at Edict to acknowledge that he was waiting before he finished the work of destroying his clothes by ripping the scraps off. In record time, he was refreshed in a massive pair of blue jeans, black boots, a white shirt and his leather bomber jacket. Edict made a mental note that Leon looked like someone pulled him out of some greaser movie from the old days. He just needed his hair slicked with a bit of product, but having it tied in a tight pony tail pulled every single hair on that wooly man's head back to the tie. He didn't casually bring the bag back into the building, so much as he unpleasantly hurled it back into the lobby before making for the car.
Leon opened the door and looked down into the cab of the sports car with a sarcastic look on his face. "You're joking, right Devola?" Edict knew what he meant immediately, and he lifted himself over the console to grab the bar beneath the passenger seat. He tried sliding the seat back further, only to hear it slam against the back of the cab. "Oh, come on. You're joking with ME Leon. Bunch those fucking tree trunks up, bend your giraffe-like neck, and get in the car. Before I make myself regret asking what you decided to fuck that ruined your morning." "You mean fuck with, right?" Leon asked in reply, compressing himself as best he could to get into the car in front of him. As he finally adjusted and managed to close the door, he looked directly at Edict. "R-right?"
The spare moments were spent discussing what'd come to pass since the last meeting, including the small amount of work he did with Luna. The topic managed to shift to their shared experiences having sex with Linqian, which made Edict feel strangely cagey and... Certainly not jealous. He definitely wouldn't ask her about it later... But the red lights were merciful, and after twenty minutes of city driving, Edict pulled into the designated meetup to see a bunch of other cars already there. He knew Britney was there at least. The two men quietly made for the entrance, and came in right around the time Adora was SHOUTING.
Leon's bulky frame blocked the little bit of light that otherwise would've come through the door as they entered. Quickly, Edict put two and two together, and came up with Luna jumping the gun like usual. She probably didn't wait for him to spill the beans, and now Adora was asking for concrete info to confirm the circumstance. He spoke up loudly, trying to interject into the mayhem before the chance escaped.
”... Do we have any concrete information? Anything to confirm what you're saying other than 'trust me, bro'...?”
"Woah, woah! Fiiiirst off, my client pleads the fifth, whatever the hell we missed. But, if it's what I think it is, I have proof, taken directly from a head privy to the information firsthand. And I'm happy to disclose anything, so long as you guys are gonna give me a fair shot at explaining."
Meanwhile, Leon had harbored a secret objective: One given to him by his younger brother, who was now privy to the Temple's vast surveillance network in real time. He almost instantly locked in on Layla, moving to where she'd been sat before crouching in front of her. "Jesus Christ, Layla cher... Look at you... Again? What'd you and Lena talk about before? That you're supposed to head to the chapel, or to the Aberrant Dorm where people can help you!" Leon didn't raise his voice, on the contrary toning it down as much as possible so that Layla wouldn't think it was some kind of admonishment. "Her Grace is worried sick about you, Love..." he cooed at her, reaching a large and calloused hand out to her in an offer of comfort. "How'd you even get here?"
“Ah. Why don't we just be honest here, Jackie, and say what's really on your mind? You just don't like me, do you?”
”Of course not. But you should know better than-“
“What, you thought I'd forget your little stint with Layla?”
Jack could’ve disemboweled her right then and there. What did she know about the Void Heart? About what it did to his friend? But unsurprisingly, Luna persisted, pushing Layla into a verbal corner.
”Leave her be, we have more important things to worry about.” God, how did Luna even get invited to this meeting?
“You know she deals with worse than the Void Heart now, yes? I've dealt with them directly, so you can't call me out on my bullshit. Little Voidy was a soul-sucker. But the new breed you unleashed?”
“Humans. Raw, half-alive, screaming. That's what they eat. With pleasure. That's what you did to her. What you released onto the world.”
”The Void Heart killed people. If you did care enough to do something about it, you would know that, but you only mentioned it because your plan is too good that be true.” Adora was exactly right, the fucking mafia wasn’t just going to play nice with them.
And then Kenshiro finally caught up with him, coming in advocating for the nuclear option of an all out attack. It made sense, they did have very little choice right now. But Jack didn’t think they were that desperate. Adora began poking more holes in Luna’s plan, asking for proof. Jack would’ve mentioned that any proof a mafia child like her would present could be fabricated, but Leon and Greyson walked through just before he could.
"Woah, woah! Fiiiirst off, my client pleads the fifth, whatever the hell we missed. But, if it's what I think it is, I have proof, taken directly from a head privy to the information firsthand. And I'm happy to disclose anything, so long as you guys are gonna give me a fair shot at explaining."
”You invited her here?” Jack, as it turned out, was far more willing to take the word of a mafia child who didn’t spy on them and try to recruit the rest of them as kids. ”…Alright, what do you have?”
"Inoue-San... Why don't we skip the light work, huh?"
Luna blinked. It took a moment to even try to decipher Ken’s unique tongue. But she wasn’t born with an empty head. She gave a shrug, hands spread out placatively. “Itsu demo senshi, Murakin-San. (Always the warrior, Murakin-San.)”
"If they're open enemies, I think we should lop their metaphorical heads off now, and reclaim what we want before they have any more time to mount a counter."
Luna leaned her hip against the bar, folding her arms across her chest as she considered his words. “...It’s easy to fight, and just annihilate all our problems, isn’t it?”
A flash of grief crossed her face as her gaze met his. “What are you willing to lose to face them? We’ve all lost something already, yes. But there’s more at stake here. Kari was looking for artifacts for them. Which means they already have an armory of weapons of magical destruction just waiting for the excuse to use.”
Then Jack opened his mouth again. Instead of an apology, which would have patched things over rather quickly, he instead justified himself.
”The Void Heart killed people. If you did care enough to do something about it, you would know that, but you only mentioned it because your plan is too good that be true.”
“Hah. Void Heart killing people? Don’t make me laugh. He was a predator, but not a killer. Why, you got proof? Against the time I spent watching Alizee? Yeah. And, making this about me when it’s about Lay-”
”... LUNA!”
Luna’s mouth clamped shut, and she leveled a withering look at Adora… before sighing, and shrugging her shoulders. Her gaze passed over to Layla. Before her lips drew into a flat, concerned line.
Layla was looking directly at Jack, mouth agape, like she had just witnessed her firstborn murdered in front of her eyes. And Jack was holding the knife. Before her little hands balled into fists in her lap, and she sat there, trembling with rage.
The damage had already been done. Again.
"Woah, woah! Fiiiirst off, my client pleads the fifth, whatever the hell we missed. But, if it's what I think it is, I have proof, taken directly from a head privy to the information firsthand. And I'm happy to disclose anything, so long as you guys are gonna give me a fair shot at explaining."
As Greyson strolled into the room, Luna visibly relaxed, gaze glancing between Adora’s request for proof, and Greyson’s excellent timing. Whistling low to herself, she reached for the bottle again, and poured herself another glass of the stiff stuff. She held the glass up, letting the ambient light colour the hues of amber, before she glanced over at Adora.
“Any questions over validity can be verified by Greyson. He’s a real one.” Beyond that, she remained silent. Better to let Greyson do the heavy lifting instead of firing up any more tempers.
Before Adora pressed her completely valid point.
”Now, don't get the idea that I'm riding you; I meant what I said earlier. I just don't think it's the best idea, and we cannot afford to take chances right now with the murders and all the people that want to wring our necks. We need to take a step back and make a plan that's in our control.”
Luna took a small sip of the liquor, before she set the glass down, and sighed. “Then Muraki-San’s idea is our only other option. If the Elite were going to ask you people to decode it, they would have done so already, instead of reaching out to others like the 8th Street. They’re not interested in Sycamore getting their hands on the notes, for whatever reason. But… instead of a full-out war… We could play it smart. Locate them, first of all. Then, have a covert group swipe them. No trace, no foul.
“That’s more in your control, is it not, Adora?”
"Jesus Christ, Layla cher... Look at you... Again? What'd you and Lena talk about before? That you're supposed to head to the chapel, or to the Aberrant Dorm where people can help you! Her Grace is worried sick about you, Love..."
Layla swallowed the red-hot emotions trapped in her throat, avoiding looking at Greyson as Leon approached her. Leon had effectively brought over a figurative jug of water, and doused the flames welling up in her chest. She reached for his hand and gave it a pat, trying to reassure the both of them.
“I’m sorry… I wasn’t thinking. Her Grace… was really worried?”
She could feel emotions welling up behind her eyes. She took a deep breath to steady herself, her lips pursing into a firm line, trying to keep her composure.
Her eyes narrowed as she tried to speak as confidently as possible. “Today it’s gonna be done, Leon. I’m talking with Britney after this, and getting them sealed. That’s why there was… so much commotion.”
"How'd you even get here?"
Aislin waved a hand, wrapping an arm around Layla. “She called me. I drove us both here. Poor thing was about to get it good from those ghosts.”
She sighed, rubbing Layla’s shoulder. “I wish I’d known sooner, I had no idea it was this bad. If it’s not one thing, it’s another with our group. Isn’t it, Layla?”
Layla offered a small smile, eyes glancing at Aislin before returning to Leon’s. Regret flashed in her face. “I uh, I refused Britney once... So I wanted this sealing done by Sycamore, and not the Temple... if that's alright?”
After Friday night, and the epic showdown between Skelly and Tennogama, it was obvious that Luca and Jasper were going to need to get stronger to defeat the hateful skeleton that was haunting them. That meant one thing. They needed to train.
Training was a bit difficult with Luca around. He couldn’t go to any public gym or park, leaving only the apartment which was getting increasingly cramped with four people around especially when one of them had wings. Training there would also mean explaining it to the girls, which they couldn’t do. Thankfully, through Jasper’s connections, they were able to get use of 317’s abandoned farmhouse.
Jasper drove them there on Sunday, and the two of them turned up with everything they needed - canvas’, weights, loads of water bottles. Luca had pulled out sportswear he didn’t even know he had, the loose shorts showing off thin legs while the hoodie he had on was covered in holes.
”Alright,” Luca said after they got into the farmhouse, hands on his hips and looking around. ”We obviously need to get stronger if we’re going to beat that Skeleton… they’re slippery enough to get away from Tennogama. I… really need to work on my stamina. And muscle strength. Everything, really.”
“Jeez,” Jasper said as he looked around, “what happened here?” The farmhouse was in ruins, there was a crater as if a bomb went off in front of it. Various signs of fire kissed dirt dotted the area, as did broken boards and small dots of blood. As well, the air stank of a tremendously strong strain of weed. It almost felt like the 317 has a tremendous party here the night before. “I know they like to party hard but this is a lot. Don’t worry bro, we’ll get you stronger.”. Jasper said as he placed a crate filled with exercise experiment, weights, and other tools. He went to the back of his car and grabbed an easel and painting supplies.
“How do we want to start,” Jasper asked.
”Uhhhh…” Luca wrinkled his nose at the weed smell, looking at all the exercise equipment. Since he’d started getting sicker he’d stopped exercising much at all. At first he tried to keep up his fitness with running and the like, but it was difficult to keep it up as time went on. He’d have to take it easy and not push himself. ”Maybe warming up? When I used to play football we’d run around the field a couple of times… running would be good! Like Skelly’s following us!”
“Ooh that gives me an idea,,” Jasper said. He quickly began to paint a figure, if Luca snuck a peak he’d see it was a very detailed version of Skelly. His hope was to add an actual representation for their enemy. He was painting in the intent to replicate the actions, mannerisms, and fighting style. “We’ll have an actual Skelly following us,” Jasper said with a smirk.
”Wow,” Luca watched with wide eyes as Jasper painted. It was… incredible. He was so talented. It only made Luca like him more… But, like, as a friend. Also more than that but he’d never do anything about that! ”That’s great! It’ll make things much more real… so long as it’s not too like the actual thing!”
While Jasper was painted he started doing some warm up stretches to loosen his tight muscles, wincing slightly as they complained at being made to do something that wasn’t just walking.
“Exactly! I’m painting in every memory I have of Skelly, how they fight, move, talk, and so on. I don’t know if they’ve been holding back but I think it’ll help us with the devil we…we,” Jasper paused as his mouth dropped ever so at the sight of Luca stretching, he turned away as his face turned a brighter hue of red, “we know.”
”I hope they haven't been holding back…” Luca said, stretching his arms above his head. It pulled up the hoodie he was wearing enough to show off a sliver of his slender waist. ”I want to get rid of them as quickly as we can.”
“Same. I don’t know why we’re so unlucky but I’m glad at least the toad saw the fucker. Do you think the others even remember seeing them? I have a few ideas on how to end that apparition up my sleeve that I’ll show you,” Jasper said with a wink.
Luca blushed slightly, glad that he was doing light exercise so it totally just looked like he was flushed from that. ”Yeah, I guess even if we can't talk about him others can see him? I don't… think the others remember. They would've seen something, right?”
He shrugged, smiling. ”I can't wait to see what your ideas are… I can't think of anything interesting! If I can get close enough I can weaken him, but getting close is difficult.”
“You’re right, still we can always ask Ken to talk to the toad,” Jasper said with a smirk. He added a weapon to Skelly in the photo, unlike any that he’d made to date. It looked like a bazooka from that old war that people still made movies about. On the edge of the painting was a net like texture.
“You ready to run,” Jasper asked.
Luca’s smile wavered just a bit as he looked at the bazooka, then back at Jasper. Was Skelly going to… shoot at them? The painting Skelly, that was? He was impressed, but a little scared… Oh, it probably couldn’t do anything to him, anyway. ”I was born ready! Bring him out.”
Jasper put the finishing touches on the painting, adding a few extra layers of intention for this fake Skelly to protect Luca in case his new design failed. A second later Jasper pulled the fake Skelly and its weapon from the painting. The Skelly was a nearly identical copy of the monster, with very few imperfections of note. Jasper wondered if he could use this fake Skelly to let others know of the threat that Jasper and Luca faced. Jasper whistled and the Skelly waved at Luca. They turned and tossed Jasper the bazooka looking weapon.
“So that works,” Jasper said with a big smirk, “I’ve never tried to summon a construct and a weapon for me at the same time. You ready to chase and be netted, fake Skelly?”
Skelly jumped, hands thrown in the air to celebrate the coming fun with two thumbs up.
Luca let out a sigh of relief when the bazooka went to Jasper rather than being kept by Skelly… that would’ve been too much. It made sense, Jasper could practice with a weapon and they’d get loads of training out of it.
”Wow, Jasper, you’re- that’s really cool,” Luca breathed out, grinning brightly at Jasper, before facing Skelly. There was already a light sheen of perspiration across his forehead from the warmup. But he seemed full of energy, hopping from foot to foot. ”Alright let’s go… lap around the inside first?”
“On my mark, get set,” Jasper grinned, “go.”
Luca had crouched, and set off running when Jasper said go. At first it was a pretty good pace, but before he'd even made a half lap he started slowing down, chest heaving up and down and his breathing running ragged. ”I forgot… how tiring… running is…”
As Luca slowed down the fake Skelly gained ground and they held all four of their arms out ready to grab Luca. Suddenly, the fake Skelly was enveloped in a net. The net hit with a heavy impact, wrapping itself all around their arms and legs, and causing the fake Skelly to lose its balance and fall to the ground. Jasper, lowered the weapon, and smirked. “Get a breath in, but now they can’t get away from your aura,” Jasper smirked as he started to jog towards Luca.
”Oh, you’re right,” Luca panted, bending over and putting his hands on his thighs. He looked over at the fake Skelly, caught in the net and on the ground. It would be so easy to go touch them and weaken them. ”If we get them like this… I can grab their foot to weaken them and you can shoot them…”
He nodded, still panting. ”I won’t do it… for this one… it’ll just destroy it…”
“Yeah! But this by itself took me led than a minute to paint, and the net is reinforced with my defensive spells so it’s more durable than normal as well,” Jasper grinned, “we’re going to kill this fucker.”
”Yeah!” Luca threw a weak fist into the air, finally regaining his breath and energy. ”Maybe we can use the fake ones to fight the real one, then you can catch it in the net… then I can weaken it…”
“We totally got this. How are you feeling? Ready to get some more cardio in? I’ll run with you this time!,”
”I’m good to go again! I need to improve my stamina… lets good,” Luca nodded, raising a hand to wipe sweat away from his brow. He bent his skinny legs slightly, ready to run again.
“Promise me you’ll take it easy on me, I’m not the best runner,” Jasper joked, knowing full well his long legs made running easy. He bent himself down, placing one foot back and both hands out assuming a sprinters starting pose. He held the net thrower in his hand still, pressing it into the ground.
”Ok… wait.” Luca went over to the fake Skelly, carefully reaching out to rot away the net holding him, but not the creature itself. ”Now we can get chased again!”
He made his way back over to near Jasper, once again bending his knees in a half running pose. ”Uh… go, chase us!”
He wasn’t sure how the fake Skelly worked so he just said that before starting to run again, at a decent pace again… one Jasper could easily keep up with with his long legs and lack of terminal illness.
Jasper had to slow his pace to keep up with Luca but it was a nice pace. The two kept up the pace for a few minutes without much problem. Jasper enjoyed this greatly. Just two bros, running from their fake problem, while they enjoyed each others company. Jasper smiled a great big smile as he looked forward. Suddenly, his peripheral caught the sight of the fake Skelly running past them. Their head was turned back, eyes staring at something behind them. Jasper looked back and saw that the real Skelly was right behind Luca. Jasper quickly raised the net thrower, turned around, and fired the second net emptying the device. The net impacted Skelly and wrapped around them but even the more durable nature of the net was no match for the raw strength of Skelly. Jasper slowed down, as did the fake Skelly, and Jasper attempted to tackle Skelly but was instead caught and lifted off his feet.
Luca’s eyes widened at the sight of the real Skelly - they’d just started, and they were already here to ruin it. ”Jasper!”
Gritting his teeth, Luca turned around and went low, jumping forward to grab Skelly’s ankle. With its attention on Jasper he managed to grasp it, stomach scraping painfully across the ground… but he ignored the familiar pain to cling to Skelly, beginning to weaken it. ”Let go of him! Jasper, hit them, or something!”
The fake Skelly saw Luca in danger and scowled. It kept in action as it jumped across the area impacting the real Skelly in the chest. The four arms of the fake Skelly began to claw viciously at the real Skelly, who simply threw Jasper off to the side and tried to kick off Luca in response. Jasper impacted the ground and rolled a few times before coming to a stop.
Luca grunted as Skelly’s foot connected with his stomach, feeling the distinctive crack of a rib breaking. But he didn’t let go, clinging onto Skelly with what little strength he had. ”J-Jasper, can you… paint the gun?!”
Jasper jumped up and ran over to his canvas. He quickly pulled out his paintbrush and began to make a gun. He did not have enough time to make his normal magnum opus but he did have enough time to make the next best thing, an actual magnum. A moment later Jasper pulled out a large hand cannon and cocked back the hammer. He lined up the shot with the real Skelly and pulled the trigger. While the shot was off target it was still accurate enough that the magic bullet collided with the one hand of the real Skelly, creating an instant explosion that blew it apart. Skelly roared in anger as it looked at Jasper, raised three middle fingers, before it threw the fake Skelly towards Jasper and tried to dislodge Luca once again.
Luca wasn’t able to hold on any longer, letting go of Skelly as he was thrown away, rolling across the floor with a grunt. He pushed himself up, wincing as he felt his leg twist awkwardly. Shit.
Having dislodged Luca, Skelly ran towards Jasper, trying to grab the magnum out of his hands.
Jasper fired one shot after another trying to land another hit on Skelly but the monster seemed to be able to move at the last moment before the shot, and five booms later Jasper was dry. In the distance magical explosions could be seen where the bullets did end up hitting. Not content to accept one’s fate in the midst of a fight, Jasper rotated the gun in his hand so that the guns handle was facing out. As Skelly drew close Jasper struck out with the base of the pistol aiming towards Skelly’s head. It struck, however, Skelly was durable enough to not only resist the strike but also break the spell holding the gun together on impact causing the gun to return to paint.
Skelly used to of their hands to grab Jasper while the third sent punch after punch into his gut. A moment later the fake Skelly arrived and grabbed the monster once again. It used its top two arms to pull in Skelly while the bottom two launched a relentless barrage of strikes into the rib cage.
Luca pushed himself to his feet with a pained wince, jumping at Skelly’s back, wrapping his arms around their skeletal torso. It didn’t have the hands to deal with Luca… and his rotting touch, amplified by his whole body pressed against Skelly, started to work. It started weakening the emotions that fueled them, and the apparition themselves. His punches to Jasper’s gut got weaker, and Skelly started trying to shake them all off.
Jasper took the punches well, using his forearms to take the brunt of the impact, and he could feel the strikes grow weak. Jasper waited until they were at the weakest before he started throwing punches in return, each one connecting with the jaw of the monster. Each one grew in intensity and hated. Eventually, Skelly had enough and knew it had to get out of here. They knew that they would die if they stayed and fought. In that moment it raised its three hands towards each combatant’s, one for Luca, Jasper, and the fake Skelly and shook its fists at them before raising the middle finger. A moment later it phased away from their grip and teleported away. Jasper was mid-punch at the moment and the sudden disappearance caused him to topple over face first towards Luca’s face.
For a moment, Luca didn’t want to move away - he want to just lie there and let Jasper fall onto him, for their faces to get close-
But he couldn’t. He remembered what happened to Sloane, and couldn’t bear for it to happen to Jasper too. There wasn’t a healer around, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything but watch. So Luca rolled to the side, out of the way of Jasper, leaving him to fall onto the ground face first instead.
Jasper hit the ground and groaned as he felt a pop in his nose. He rolled away from Luca to be sure that he didn’t get caught in the aura. He could already feel the steady stream of blood that poured from his nose, and a crimson trail began to form in the dirt below. Jasper sat up enough to be sitting on his knees and leaned back and looked to Luca.
“I fucking hate that thing.”
”It’s the worst…” Luca groaned, turning his head to look at Jasper. He didn’t sit up yet. His chest heaved up and down, but sharp pain came with every breath. He’d definitely broken a rib, or two. He knew the feeling too well to mistake it.
”How are we supposed to train if they turn up?”
“With others,” Jasper groaned as he formed a fist with both his hands, “do you think the others could see them?” Jasper paused as he pointed to the fake Skelly.
Luca sat up with a wince, looking at the fake Skelly, eyes widening slightly. ”Oh… probably! But we won’t be able to explain what they are…. But we can try. And Tennogama saw the real thing, right?”
“Right! Maybe I could paint a sign saying ‘this monster is hunting us’ or something. Ken may be a good person to talk to though you see if Tennogama can tell him what he saw,” Jasper winced as he looked over to Luca. “Want to train some more? I can get us a better guard for it,” Jasper chuckled.
Luca shook his head. He wanted to, but he couldn’t… though he didn’t want to let Jasper know how badly injured he’d gotten. Then again, a couple of broken bones wasn’t all that bad for him. So instead he went with another, hopefully believable, reason. ”Weakening him took a lot out of me… I don’t think I can continue! If you want to, I'll just watch until you’re done and we go home.”
Jasper shook his head, “nah I think we should get going just in case. Want to stop by the ice cream shop on the way home? I could use a treat after this.”
Luca pushed himself to his face with a wide grin. ”Hell yeah! Let’s go get some ice cream.”
Luca’s Apartment Monday Afternoon After Sunday’s intense day of training, Luca had taken most of Monday morning slow. He had the broken ribs to worry about until he could see Sully - and he had to wrap bandages around his chest every few hours just to alleviate the pain slightly. He did this all in silence, not letting anyone of the others staying in the apartment know.
But there was a meeting to get ready for… well, they had a bit of time before it. But Luca had to make sure he could attend at all. He was in his bedroom, tightly wrapping a compression bandage around his damaged knee. Not so bad he couldn’t walk, but painful enough in combination with his normal base level pain. Painkillers had already been taken, so he just had to suffer through it.
He’d left the door slightly ajar, to indicate he didn’t mind anyone coming in. He’d dealt with the worst of it - top half covered up by a t-shirt. He just needed a bit of time before he could get up, and layer up as much as possible to avoid hurting anyone again.
A knock announced the arrival of company at the door. The knock was followed by the rasp of a clawed hand tapping, tapping away at the frame announcing who was coming in. A moment later Lila lazily strolled through the door, her wings finally retracted back into her body which allowed her to walk through a doorway normally for once.
“Good morning,” Lila said with bloodshot eyes. Once her wings went back inside she had convinced Jasper to go out with her the night prior so she could enjoy a night of fun, and interrogate the poor man. She had learned much in the night. “I have news from…oh god my head. I have news from last night,” Lila said as she raised both her clawed thumbs up.
”Oh- want some painkillers for that?” Luca asked, gesturing for Lila to come in properly and sit down wherever she wanted. He shuffled over on his bed so that she could also sit on the opposite end if she really wanted to, pointing to the box of various medicinal necessities. It only contained the lighter painkillers, the over the counter stuff, with the rest kept in tubs he could bring around with him.
”What news? About- about jasper?”
“Ohhh yes indeed,” Lila said with a smirk. “Nothing definitive, mind you, as I wanted to be subtle. But I gotta say the vibes, man, the vibes were telling me a story all by themself,” Lila paused as she sat down near Luca, “at least I think so? We got roped into so many drinks at so many places I don’t know where to start,” Lila exhaled as she groaned.
”What kind of story? Like, a story about how totally straight he is or… that maybe he isn’t?” Luca didn’t want to get too hopefully, but he couldn’t help but turn around and look at Lila with a smile and wide eyes. ”Maybe… start from the beginning? Where was it you went first again?”
“I will tell you the story and you tell me,” Lila winked as she stretched her arms. “You are right, how about we start where the story starts, like any good drinking story in St. Portwell,” Lila paused as she leaned in.
Sunday Night 6:30PM
Art District - The Beginning
“At The Beginning,” Lila flashed her arms out wide, as she motioned for Jasper to look at the building that would hopefully be the start of a fun night. Lila had just managed to put her wings away and wanted to celebrate. However she knew she could not do so alone. In the interest of killing two birds with one stone she had told Jasper that she wanted to go out, and she needed him to join her in order to protect her if either 8th street or father wolf showed up. And as such, she chose her destinations to be away from any 8th street influence.
“Isn’t this a gay bar,” Jasper asked with a raised eyebrow. He asked because he knew how strong the pours were at this place in particular so he wondered how many other places they’d be able to go to if they started their night here.
”You took him to a gay bar?” Luca’s eyes widened, and he laughed. That was certainly one way to check but… Jasper also seemed like the kind of straight guy who was fine with going along to a gay bar. He’d probably even brush off getting flirted with? Maybe. ”How did he take it… like, was he alright with it?”
Lila leaned in close with a smirk, “he had been there before, many times in fact. He knew the bartender by name and,” Lila paused as she looked towards the door, “the bartender knew his.”
”Seriously?!” Luca gasped, holding a hand to his mouth in shock. Was that… normal for a straight guy? Luca didn’t really know, because he couldn’t go to bars in the first place. He’d never had the chance. ”But couldn’t that just be because he’s, y’know, artsy?”
Lila blinked twice before she tilted her head. “It was also the bar where a lot of the 317 would go to drink so perhaps,” Lila paused as she raised a finger, “but there might be more to the story,” Lila paused as she leaned back.
Sunday Night 6:58 Pm
Art District - The Beginning
“I’ll be straight up with you Jasper I don’t think you’re straight,” Lila paused as she downed yet another tequila shot. The alcohol had already worked its way through her body and into her decision making center of her brain, blowing the doors off subtlety and sending her on a collision course with the truth.
Jasper eyes went wide for a second as he raised an eyebrow. “I got to know why you think that,” Jasper chuckled as he downed another shot himself. Night like tonight were the rare occasion one might find Jasper drinking. While he never had an issue with alcohol, he did have an issue with addictive substances and tried to keep these nights to as few as possible. “What a way to start off a conversation though, props to you for that,” Jasper laughed as he leaned back on the bar, awaiting an answer.
Lila simply tilted her head and looked at Jasper. “Do I have to answer that? Just look at you,” Lila paused as she pointed to the bartender, “he knows you very well, by the sounds of it you used to be in here all the time.”
“I mean this is where the 317 goes to party. Look, there’s my sister in the booth over there and it looks like Alex and Jason are here as well,” Jasper countered.
“I’ve seen the way you look at Luca.”
“Oh.”
“and so when I asked him if there was anything that he was holding onto that he wanted to get off his chest, anything that I might be able to relate to, he nodded his head with a nervous look. I told you I wouldn’t be so blunt so I left it like that for a moment,” Lila paused as she took in a deep breath. The long story about how she noticed the way Jasper seemed to be more at home in this environment, how he knew several people there on a friendly level, and the way his smile seemed to radiate extra strong with them had taken a while to get across.
”That does seem… hmm, well, it’s not really conclusive,” Luca rubbed his chin, having to pull back slightly - as Lila talked he’d edged towards her, almost close enough for his aura to touch her. He couldn’t have that. ”There’s so many things he could want to get off his chest like… a crush on a woman. A woman that he would be embarrassed to like. It’s not necessarily that he’s also attracted to men, y’know, unless… you got an answer later?”
“Did I get an answer,” Lila smiled extra big, “my memory is a bit foggy buuuuuut,” Lila paused as she preventively took a big breath.
Sunday Night 8:58 Pm
Downtown St. Portwell - La Tournesol
“But I like that bar Jasper, there were so many pretty women there and I didn’t get any of their numbers, why are we going to another bar already,” Lila bemoaned.
“Because,” Octavia raised a finger as she looked over to Lila. She was leading the group down the Main Street. In total, there were seven people including Lila and Jasper in the group. Octavia, Sypha, Alex, Jason, and Lori had roped Jasper and Lila into joining their night out and Jasper was very much enjoying being around his 317 friends. “It is open mic night and the drinks are cheap. Plus, I heard that the annoying fucker Jackson was already escorted out of the building so we can actually enjoy the scene now. Trust me, the vibe is good here.”
Lila moved over to Jasper as she crossed her arms. “Your sister is intense,” she paused as she tapped him on his arm, “why didn’t I know you dated a guy before? I don’t want to pry but I had no idea.”
“Well,” Jasper paused as he looked towards his sister, “it wasn’t the healthiest of relationships, I was in a bad spot that I needed to get out of and he was just a toxic nobody who wanted to ride my coattails to the top you know? It nearly ruined men for me entirely. After Octavia helped me get out of that relationship she helped me get sober. She’s intense because she’s still unsure of you all, and if you’ll bring me back to that dark place.”
“WE’RE HERE,” Octavia shouted at the group as she flung the doors open to La Tourneso. The group followed her in as they took in the crowd before them. The music was good, the people seemed to be enjoying themselves, and the vibe felt out of this world. Everyone was ready to enjoy a memorable night. Drinks would be shared, memories would be created, and a new friendship would be likely born in the midst of an old one. Lila was ready to follow Octavia and her plan for the night. Nothing would ruin this moment.
The sound of mic feedback broke the illusion as everyone looked to the stage. “Third times the charm, hello St. Portwell I’m Jackson…” the sound of the man was drowned out by the collective groan of the entire bar. Mostly notable was Octavia who slammed her palm into her forehead.
The entire group except for Lila frowned as Octavia spun in place and marched the group back out the doors.
“And again, this came up naturally in the conversation. Jasper told me that he had dated a guy once before. Not just kissed, dated. I didn’t want to ask any more questions besides that but I figure that’s pushing us to something like a sixty percent chance he’s into men,” Lila paused as she groaned, “I drank way too much last night to be thinking about math.”
”Right… so the chances of him being into men are higher than I thought,” Luca said, nodding and rubbing his chin again thoughtfully. But that only meant there was a possibility. Just because Jasper was maybe into men still didn’t mean he was into Luca. ”That’s… more than I expected. But, I still don’t think he’s into me at all. I- well, there’s someone else he might like… Liking men doesn’t mean liking me. Not- not that we’d be able to date anyway.”
He blushed, waving a hand in front of his face. ”The rotting, y’know.”
“I may have tried my hand at figuring that out,” Lila said with a grin.
Luca’s head snapped back towards Lila. Once again, there was hope in his eyes - a hope he shouldn’t have but! Positivity was his main strength and maybe he should have it towards this! ”What- What did you find out?”
Sunday Night 11:58 Pm
Art District - The 317
“I found this out by just watching you two you know? You’re like always with him, always training with him, always taking photos with him, you know? I read it off you by just looking at you,” Lila spoke somewhere between her sober tone and a slurred speech, “I just want to know why you haven’t asked him out yet?”
“It’s a daunting task,” Jasper paused as he flexed his muscles. He was shirtless, and the suspenders that once held his fit together were dangling off to the side of his pants. Around him Alex, Zeri, and Jason worked on their artwork using Jasper as their model for the night. “Like how do I know if he even likes me,” Jasper paused as he looked over to Alex, “how’s it coming?”
Alex turned their easel around and showed off the stick figure version of Jasper they had spent thirty minutes perfecting.
“You got,” Jasper paused as he raised an eyebrow, “an eye for detail.”
“Thanks! I knew being around actual artists would make me better as one,” Alex said with a sigh. Their expression blank but hopeful.
“That’s the hard part,” Jason said in response, “the unknown. Do they like you back? Are they happy with just being friends?”
“But you’ll never know the answer if you don’t ask for it,” Zeri said while pointing at Jasper, “that much is known.”
Jasper looked to Jason and then Zeri and sighed.
“Stop moving so much,” Alex shouted as they took a healthy swig from the whisky bottle, “you’ll ruin the painting.”
“Lila? Anything to add,” Jasper paused as he looked over towards his friend.
“I don’t know for certain but I’ll tell you the same thing I’d tell him,” Lila paused.
“and that is take that chance, Luca! I promise you Jasper is into you even if I couldn’t get him to say it.”
”I… well, thank you, Lila,” Luca smiled warmly at her. It was a smile that lit up the room, which might lead Lila to believe he would. And he might. But he’d have to think about it. Decide if it was worth possibly ruining their friendship over and if… Lila’s memory was correct. Also, Jasper hadn’t outright said it. Why not? Luca had been able to. ”It’s a lot to think about! So… I’ll think about it, definitely.”
“Good. I’m rooting for you,.” Lila said knowing full well that the outcome was getting more clear. All someone had to do was make that first move.
”Thanks,” Luca grinned. It was nice to have someone in his corner at least, even if things didn't work out. He turned his head towards the door to his room. ”Are the other two about? We should maybe think about heading for the meeting today… I think it's a bit of a trek to get there.”
“Yes! Jasper is nursing a hangover on the couch and Lynn is at the conspiracy board,” Lila referenced the giant cork board that Lynn had bought to map out the ten possible futures she saw.
”You think Jasper will be able to drive, or do we need to take the bus?” Luca asked with a light life, though… Lynn being at her conspiracy board wasn’t so entertaining. She’d been almost obsessed. ”We should definitely go drag her away from it… a fun break to a hopefully less chaotic coven meeting!”
“Yeah, Jasper should be good to drive. Let me get dressed and we can get going, what’s the worst that could happen at a Monday coven meeting?”
“Fuck all the way off Tayla,” Lila said while she leaned back on her heel. She was dressed in loose plaid pants, a tight fitting black tube top which was hopefully far enough down her back to not get ripped off if her wings reappeared, and a denim jacket with white trim. “Do you seriously think that 8th street will stop with just me, just Britney? They are as much a threat to us all as they are to me.”
Luca grimaced as Lila got angry immediately - fairly so. He stood a bit off from the three he’d arrived with, and also far enough from any person so he wouldn’t accidentally touch them if there was another sudden hallucination. ”Lila’s right. Emily and Vashti- rather than the whole coven- won’t stop at just Lila and Britney. Emily wants to control the city, and Vashti just loves… the violence, I think. They’ll keep going.”
He then turned towards Luna, grimacing. ”I don’t trust her plan, but… I can confirm her information. Part of it, at least. Kari did work for Blake Schmidt to track down artifacts and 8th Street did sold her notes. I’m sure Greyson can verify it better if he has proof but… I hope you’d all trust me. I have no reason to lie.”
Anya raised an eyebrow, but otherwise her expression didn’t change. She knew the name Blake Schmidt - she made it her business to know the names of all the big financial names in the city. But she hadn’t heard of the Elite. Another thing to remember and look into. Perhaps she should ask Ezra… perhaps.
Something to put to the back of her mind for now.
”Long winded as it was, I agree with everything Jack said,” Anya nodded. ”Dare we forget that Luna’s ‘associates’ tried to pull teenagers into the criminal underground ten years ago? Perhaps they’ve changed, but it doesn’t scream trustworthy. It’s not a plan we can just accept. Nor can we just jump in guns blazing, as Ken suggests.”
She paused, smiling, before she continued. ”Adora is completely right. We need a solid plan and concrete information. Taking chances has already lost us too many.”
”I do believe you, of course, Luca,” Anya said smoothly, before turning her gaze to Luna and Greyson. ”But I would like to see this proof. Bringing up Layla’s problem is meant as a distraction, and it does make it harder to trust you, Tsukino. We need to properly verify this information and your trustworthiness. Cold, hard proof. You’d be willing to show that, wouldn’t you, Greyson?”
She spoke neutrally, with a hint of coldness. It was fake, of course - a projected frigidness to keep up the appearance they weren’t on good terms. It was best that way, in public. Made it much easier to work together behind the scenes.
Of course, she assumed- trusted- that Greyson had this proof and a reason for using it to bring Luna back in. She was giving him a solid in to show and use it for that end.
Mentions: Pink and Violet, Lynette Hunter-Richoux | Direct Dialogue: Layla Hyacinthus/@Estylwen, Anya Baksh/@FernStone, The Gathered Coven | Location: The House on the Hill
The crowd bayed for proof. Edict could only grin at Luna, getting just a bit closer to toss his arm over her shoulder in a comforting way. "Yeah, I mean it's great that you all want proof that she's not lying and stuff, but... Won't it suck when you have to let me in to get it?" his eyes narrowed, teeth bared in the most smug look he could give. He waited long enough to feel the aggressive reactions bubbling before he gave way. "Fuckin' joking! Jokinggggg, God. Stiff motherfuckers: Alright! Everyone interested in proof, raise your hand. I'll beam what I saw, it'll hit your Emotional Field, you'll see shit like a picture show. The informants in question seem to be... Agent assets. Currently working with 8th Street, but I... Have reason to believe they're involved with a lot more than just them. I also have reason to believe that one of these two people who were probed are responsible for the hallucinatory haze we were all caught in at Kari's house."
He waited a moment for those who consented to gather before speaking again. "While rummaging through their heads, I felt the same sort of lingering sensation as I felt with the mist. Hence, reason to believe, rather than solid proof. Now-" he commented, slipping on his sunglasses. "-it's show and tell time." Those who had openly consented to the non-intrusive display were bombarded by the same images that he'd ripped directly from the girls' memories. Lots of meetings with 8th Street, Blake Schmidt being handed over the notes. The shock and awe of Kari's anti-magical translatory coding, which even Edict had to admit was a masterpiece of clever tricks that he'd probably need another dozen years to decode himself without a key.
Leon hadn't raised his hand. He didn't much care about what was going on, in so much as he cared about the Temple business that needed immediate tending to. So, he didn't put his hand up, and hoped that Edict wouldn't just blast him anyway as he was trying to talk to someone.
“I uh, I refused Britney once... So I wanted this sealing done by Sycamore, and not the Temple... if that's alright?”
He had no clue, obviously. Every part of him said no, that it wasn't alright... But at the same time, he thought about the mounting strangeness; the tension, the fact that Lena was the Aberrant who was supposed to be in charge of Layla's tending and training, the situation with Casey and Trisha. He thought about what his job was, and then about Alizee. Finally he frowned.
"You're... Gonna end it then? No more magic for Layla? I mean... You're not so far into your oaths that you can't back out, as far as I'm concerned. If it's become too much for you, and you think you can't go on, then... I'm sure it's best for everyone then. So Void Heart stays sealed too, and we can all move on." Leon's hand still held Layla's dainty fingers, frowning. "But, this will be a sad thing for Her Grace to hear. I believe she would expect me to try changing your mind: But, I don't think it's right to keep you... Not when you're so hurt, Layla. So, I'll take it for you. Her sadness, her anguish. Don't worry, okay? I only ask that I be with you when you're sealed, so I can know for certain that you're kept safe."
The vision ended, and Edict pulled his glasses from his head so that nobody would get nervous about him going any further. He'd given them inextricable proof of Luna's words, and the only thing he could do now was gear up to defend his own powers from the scrutiny of others. It was assumed that at least someone would call bullshit, or that he simply doctored up the images as he pleased. But this was a power he didn't have when they were teens, neither the vision sharing or the ability to twist and transform memories within his mind. So, it was the hope that there'd be nobody who would bother making the connection... The Bad Guy with good intent - The sad clown. "So, with that, I say we start applying pressure where we can. Maybe we can get some legitimate assets involved with this Schmidt character? I'd say someone like Anya is the perfect choice; get into the guy's head, convince him you're the one who can solve his problem? Keeps us out of 8th Street's radar too; maybe they'll just forget like angry T-rexes." he laughed.
Ken had put his hand up, and had absolutely recognized the validity of the claims in the images featuring Kari's many notebooks. It was easy to see, as she'd even added little bits of the language of the Ambphibioids of Gama to her vast sprawling cyphers. His mind reeled in a mixture of confusion and rage. "Why, so someone else can get their hands on her notes to sell for profit? I know the ways of your bōryokudan; you'll not convince me of your good intentions without assurances on your life that those notes will remain confidential and out of your reach!"
The stench of history, mediocrity and fatigue struck him as he was led through the weaving corridors of the retirement home - until he came to a stop outside a half-opened door with the digits '404'
"Your grandson says he's here to see you, Mister Patrick." One of the aides had escorted him to a bedroom and knocked, unscheduled. The standards weren't so strict for the time.
"Grandson? I don't-..." a voice answered back, then paused, "Hruh... send 'em in, give us a little privacy and get yourself a coffee."
Clancy stepped inside the room, leaving the aide to wander off to other duties. The room was spartan, by the standards of the man he'd known. A battery operated radio sat on a table, playing some smooth R&B track from a local station in the background. On the dresser at the far side were a set of framed photos, all monochrome. One contained a woman that seemed familiar, albeit a good ways older than he'd remembered. Aunt Nora maybe, he guessed? Other photos ranged from a pose with other uniformed marines on some beach out where the weather was tropical compared to the midwest, to family photos containing facesthat were all too familiar to him.
Mom. Dad. Frank. Judy.
"C'mon, I don't bite. Judy dropped by with one of her kiddos, guessin' that's where the mixup is?" A gravelly voice erupted from the far side of the room once again, coming from the silhoeutte of an elderly man in a wheelchair, facing out towards the window as a constant rainfall drummed against the glass, "Cos' my girls only had daughters, but I dunno, I lose track sometimes-"
"Hi, Uncle Gerry." Clancy interceded. To spare the old man's effort in turning he stepped around the bed, until he was in full view.
"Sweet fuckin' jesus-.." he shook it off, "Sorry for the language, you just look the spitting image of my-"
"It's me," Clancy cut him off, before he could continue on the tangent. Like a ma, "You got me a Daisy 1894 for my tenth birthday, and Frank got your old bike for his sixteenth. Mom threatened to tan your hide when she found out. She'd have given us both the belt if she knew he made me ride that bike too."
She had, alongside uttering a few profanities in her native Polish, but Clancy had pretended not to understand. It was funny at the time, and a sadder memory still.
Hearing that, it took a moment for the old man to process. Compared to the robust fighting Irishman Clancy had known telling tall tales about his time in the marines when he was younger, Uncle Gerry was a frail husk of a man. Age and terminal illness wrought terrible things upon the human body, and it had struck him in spades. Confined to a wheelchair, his uncle was just about breathing with the aid of a nasal cannula, fed up into his nostrils from an oxygen tank fixed to the back of the chair.
"Sweet jesus... am I-... am I meetin' my maker?"
"No. Not yet." Clancy shook his head.
"Well, if it ain't that or the painkillers, you're pretty fucken' convincing for a ghost."
That forced something of a chortle out of the boy. "Guess I am."
"Not even going to give your favourite uncle a hug?"
"I... better not." The old man's heart seemed to sink at that, "Ghost, remember?"
"Harh," Gerry snorted, wrinkling his lips, "Why are you haunting me then, kid?"
"Mom and dad," he began, "Where are they? The house is empty."
He'd been out of state for less than a year, and come back to his childhood home being emptied of anything that was valuable, a 'FOR SALE' sign plastered in an overgrown front yard. Over time, he'd stopped by, but never where anyone could've recognised him, nor where he could've put someone he actually cared about at risk.
"You didn't read the papers?" Gerry's wrinkled brow scrunched, his head, "No, suppose not. I'm... sorry, kid," Gerry's eyes shot towards a family photo on the dresser, "Your Da's heart gave out last Christmas. Your Ma was on her own. Losing you an' your brother like that, broke her heart but she had your Da'. Without your old man, well there wasn't much left around for her, yer'know? Judy's outta state, and I wasn't much use to her like this..."
Silence followed, for what must've felt like hours at either end. An emptiness within him had simultaneously shrunken and grown more empty. Finally, he broke it with one question.
"Were they happy?"
"What?"
"After... losing us. Me, then Frank, were they still happy with each other?"
"I don't know what to say, kid. I never know what I'da done if I'd lost one of the girls, but... it's somethin that destroys a lot of folks out there. They missed you. But life... it had to move on, that's just how we was raised, y'know? Your da' specially came to me for a lot of it, wouldn't say it loud but I knew it was killin' him, and your ma'... you know what she went through, losin' her family and everything else back in her old country... she kept on going, for your da' and your sister, and the grandkids too, I guess."
"You mean... Judy's kids?" He'd almost forgotten that his sister had a family of her own, now. One he'd never meet."Is she doing okay?"
"Yeah, you and Frank woulda been uncles yourselves by now, ya'know? Goddamn commies..." The thought made him feel.... empty. As though he should've felt sadness, happiness, or both, but there was nothing there. The absence felt wrong.
Instead, he chose to change the subject, back to hs uncle's.... situation.
"How are... you? What's with the..." Clancy's gaze shifted to the apparatus feeding oxygen through the tubes running up and into his uncle's nasal cavity.
"You tell me, you're the spirit." That spouted another sad, bitter chuckle between the two of them. Clancy threw his arms up and shrugged for emphasis
"Well, they didn't warn us grunts, but I guess them Lucky Strikes weren't so lucky, huh?" A wheezing cough erupted from the old man, and Gerry thumped a finger across his chest, circling inwards, then pointed to the tubes running into his nostrils.
"C-O-P-D. Asbestos and smoking, or so the doctor tells me. Could just be the spam and maggoty fucken' rice that did it for me back in the Corps though," Gerry chuckled his way into a half-wheezing splutter, grinning through a row of yellowed teeth as he raised one frail palm upwards, "Up to me' eyeballs in cancers. Had a double-whammy stroke last Christmas too, so I can't even walk straight to take a piss. Y'know how goddamn stupid that is, needing some little girl to help you get up every morning for a piss?"
"I'm sorry." Truthfully, Clancy had known his uncle's body was failing, could've smelled it a mile away. The hunger constantly gnawing at him gave him a sense for when he was around the dead and dying. Another reason he didn't want to take anymore of a risk than he already had. Self-control was a knife-edge, easy enough to end up on the other side of the coin....
"Doesn't matter," Gerry waved it off, "Knew more than a few kids who didn't make it in the war, I got my years with your Aunt Nora until the Lord smiled on her. I'm ready for the pearly gates, kid. But if you didn't know about your ma' or old man, how'd your find me?"
"Caught your name. Heard you weren't well."
He wanted to tell him. So much, he'd wanted to open up about everything he'd seen, been through, done. But this was not something he wanted to burden the old man with, the knowledge of the things that lay waiting in the dark. Not something a man needed to fear. Thinking he was just a ghost... that was easier than the alternative, the shame of it.
"Promise me you won't tell Judy about this?" It would've only confused her, drepening old wounds. Better she forget him.
"If you're really who you say you are.... where I'm going.... what should I expect?"
Cold. Darkness. Nothing.
"I.... don't know. I can't tell you."
"Figures."
"Uncle Gerry?"
"Yeah, kiddo?"
"I remember... good things, with you. That last camping trip... Frank's birthday, even Aunt Nora's burnt apple cake... you were a good uncle. I'm sorry I wasn't there for my parents. Wasn't there when they heard Frank was killed in service. If you can believe me... thank you for being there for them."All of it, he'd meant sincerely. "I didn't suffer", except that, his most egregious lie yet, "It was quick."
One meant to spare him the knowledge, but a lie nonetheless.
One that was accepted without question.
Gerry gave him a nod that seemed to betray a saddened acceptance of what was. It was his way, the way they were raised, they way they had to be when they'd been kids.
Clancy only wished he could've figured that out before they'd both suffered loss.
They talked for a little longer, until the old man finally drifted into sleep. Clancy took his exit, leaving him to wonder whether their conversation had been a dream all along.
A sense of longing overwhelmed him for a moment as he pulled himself from the daydream that had broken through the orderly structure he'd established within his thoughts.
As he'd said to Luca, it was shitty. And as he'd said to Adora with even more conviction, there was no way out.
His family were gone. Save for the one moment with his sister, he hadn't even been there as they went. Mom. Dad. Frank. Judy. All of them, taken from him. Ashley. For a long time they'd been an anchor of sorts to him, a counterbalance to center himself and remember who he was, but they were all gone, and that had set him adrift.
Yet now he was less certain, for reasons that he couldn't quite understand. Maybe it was the fact he'd surrounded himself with people who weren't just meat to him, who weren't trying to use him for their own selfish needs or step over him like the dumb kid they thought he was.
The ex-coven people. Ashley's friends and otherwise. Some he felt an understanding with. Luca, the boy who was rotting inside. Adora. The quiet girl with her own problems. Linqian, the girl who lost her brother. The others, he was getting used to. Some he felt he could trust a little. Others, less so.
And 8th Street were still just meat as far as he was concerned, Seeing them at the Dairy Queen during his unannounced drop-in with Luca had done little to point his anger away from Emily Reed, that fucking prom queen.
Yet the memory of that stupid, selfish moment he'd taken with Uncle Gerry near the end of the man's life had been invoked by the sight of some old timer wearing a gold-embroided-on-blue U.S MARINE CORPS VETERAN cap as he crossed the strip mall. If he squinted, the old timer just barely passed for his Uncle, if for nothing else then because he was being pushed about in a wheelchair by a fourty-something year old woman whom he might've guessed could've been the man's daughter.
Why had that of all things been what came to mind?
Was it a need for something?
Family?
It didn't matter.
Despite the memory coming forth unbidden, the old man was long gone from this world, his body burned and the ashes scattered across the shores of Lake Michigan by his own daughters, the cousins that Clancy had never really got to know.
Once a marine, always a marine,
Clancy had once heard a phrase like that, though he'd never had the opportunity to really understand or make sense of it. One ship he supposed he was lucky to have sailed on without, although Frank wouldn't have said the same. You could apply the same logic to other places though.
Once a monster, always a monster.
A statement he could've spoken in the mirror, if he was being honest with himself.
As he refocused on where he actually wanted to go, he noticed that, if the map display on the not-so-new phone he'd borrowed was anything to go by, the disused bar that Adora had mentioned earlier in the day was still a little ways off. Clancy had taken the opportunity to get some shopping done, courtesy of some cash from a local benefactor that had now slipped beneath his consideration.
A new knapsack, new sneakers that actually fit him and wouldn't fall apart the moment he started moving, and a couple other things that cash could by. If it wasn't for the agitation that stirred among his base instincts whenever he moved among a crowd, he could've said it was the closest he'd been to a normal day. That is, if he neglected to remember he'd been tailing Adora.
At least she'd listened to him, which was more than what most would've done after dealing with a stalker that had proven they could disembowel a man in one swipe.
He crossed another block, cut through a small, narrow intersection where two buildings almost closed in together, and came out at the other side of a parking lot. He could see the meeting spot in question from here.
Definitely a big house. A little too obvious.
It just hadn't yet occurred to him that he wasn't the only one on the hunt in this side of town.
