---

---

Bryn’s head snapped around towards the outsider who stepped back out. The one who probably didn’t have magic. Just a gun… which could kill one of them, sure, but the doppelganger? Probably not.

"Yeah, it ain’t fuckin’ dead!" Bryn shouted. The other half of the ash streamed out of the bag, spreading out in front of her. She constantly kept it under her control, preparing to form it into a solid wall or more fiery projectiles if needed. "No medical attention needed- stay the fuck back, unless you want it to impale you!"

It was a lie that they didn’t need medical attention. Elara clearly did, and Bryn was fairly certain she’d broken at least one rib herself… but they didn’t need it from outside. They had their own. And she didn’t like hearing sirens in the distance. Emergency services were just bad news in a situation like this. Especially if there were cops. They were more likely to fucking arrest them for murder than actually help.

She crouched, side stepping towards Lucas while staying close to Elara. It put her within earshot of most of the Grove members, while far enough away from everyone else that they shouldn’t be able to hear.

"Lucas, teleport me and Elara outta here soon as that thing’s dead. Ethan, Ryan, Doran- handle cleanup for us." She gave out quiet orders. She didn’t have the time or patience to deal with all of the cityfolk asking questions and poking around their town. They had shit to do… and she’d probably just snap. "We need y’know what. Try stop ‘em from doing any shit in our town, but-" She nodded her head towards Varnan. "He knew Bill at least."

The Manse went down, that thing went tumbling, and shots started whispering out. Not just ringing out, whispering. Hollywood-quiet.

Time often got fuzzy in the Manse, but an important thing when using chronomancy was to trust that others outside your influence could be counted on. So Varnan ducked down and slipped away from the line of fire. He noticed, before switching places with the others, that the monster wasn't totally stuck in place and inched closer by millimeters, but seemed to be building up a tolerance to his time magic. On one hand, that was dreadful to think about on top of the sheer sturdiness it had demonstrated. On the other... Varnan wondered if it could work up an immunity to good old fashioned brass and steel. If he had brought a gun...

Another time, maybe.

In a small town like this, there wasn't much stopping the police or the local news from catching this. He'd been deployed to places like this before, where it was easier for word to spread. Varnan didn't want to stick around and make this worse by being a stranger when that happen. But then, he couldn't just flee. He came here for answers, and Bill had been turned into this or kill by this.

So he shifted around, keeping out of the way of the shots being fired. Varnan knew what he could do after they took that thing down.

"If you can kill or seal that thing... I'll deal with the police," Varnan offered. "It'll buy everyone time to get away from here, and I'll take a look at what happened before we arrived- I have magic for that." It looked like they were about to wrap this up, so Varnan opened up his watch, and a circular screen of coral energy started to form above the face.

This was going to be a long night.

Northside
St Alexia’s Practice
Interacts: Elena @Qia and Loni, Luci @FernStone

---

"The owner certainly looked traumatized from what had happened, and... yeah, I think I should go to another place if I want any baked goods for a while." Shame, he thought, the first bakery he goes to and it gets attacked by a monster. Bad timing, and Elijah wondered if the owner would serve any of them again. They may have saved the day, but something tells him that going back right now would not be the best call.

Still, Elijah is curious as to why that thing went after a bakery, and maybe it was after the owner, but why? He may try to investigate further, though it may be hard if the owner is not talking to him after the attack.

When Elena returned and Loni talked about her magic. It piqued Elijah's interest when she said she is a green and black lux user. He knows enough about lux to know what both mean and what they can do. In concert with each other, they can do some great things. Which explains her shield and how she made that thing weaker during the fight. "Your magic is useful, Loni, and you did what you could to protect others and your daughter." Sounding congratulatory and honest.

"Your magic does sound useful, Elena and not all magic is flashy. But it still gets the job down and gets results." Elijah sounding sincere.

Though about sharing details about himself. Elijah was wary of doing that with people he barely knows. Yes, they are Adepts and thus know about magic and whatnot. But strangers are still the same, and maybe he can share some knowledge of himself with them, given how open Loni was.

"Well, for me, I have already told Loni I live in the Southside, and I was not always a stabbing with a spear person. I am an Agent and I picked up the spear a while ago under... a not ideal circumstance, and it has been with me since. It was made by someone who wished to hunt the rare and exotic paranormal creatures and beings that he deemed worthy prey. I am not related to that person, but the spear has its own tricks that make it a good weapon for killing paranormals." There, he stopped and wondered if he should continue. After a moment, he spoke, "I do not hunt anything, but I know how to use it and fight with it. Which if you knew me, you would know I am more of a scholar than a fighter, but things change." Elijah's voice saddened a bit when he said those last words.

Elijah hoped that that was enough for now and his voice started to chipper up. "It is good to meet and know you two, but I think it may be time for me to leave unless either one of you has something you want to say or talk about?"

---

"Thank you both," Loni smiled at both Elena and Elijah when they called her magic useful. Impressive. She didn’t agree, because she’d seen impressive magic. Impressive magic was Vin ripping through Apparitions with their bare hands, and Momo easily able to hold up a building when it collapsed. Not her. Not when she was scared of her Black Lux.

Her head listed forward to rest on Luciana’s, holding her daughter as close as possible. There was a comfort there, even though she could still feel the dark apathy swirling around her. Practically strangers wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, but Luciana clearly could. She wasn’t calming down like Loni hoped she would.

"Whoa, magic that brings back memories is real cool. I ain’t seen magic mixed with somethin’ like tea before, either. Memories ain't easy to play 'round with, I've heard!" Loni pushed down the annoying negative feelings in favour of genuine enthusiasm towards what Elena said she could do. Both could be so useful… information gathering was important, from what she knew. Their coven wouldn’t be so strong without all the information and alliances they had.

And a spear to kill Paranormals… a slight shudder ran down her spine. No, he clearly only used it on dangerous Paranormals. Like Apparitions. "That sounds like a really useful spear- I s’pose it means you don’t hafta worry ‘bout hitting Blinds. And I’m sorry you got it under bad circumstances."

Which seemed to be the case with most Paranormal. An unfortunate circumstance of the magical world. But Elijah was talking about leaving - and Loni certainly wasn’t going to push him to stay. As much as she enjoyed the company, she wasn’t the pushy sort like that.

"Oh ‘course, I ain’t gonna keep you," Loni said to Elijah with a smile. She turned her head to check her wound. The muscles seemed to be coming back together now… so she was sure there was no danger. It would be all done in ten minutes or so. Thankfully. "It was nice t’meet you, Elijah. Remember, if you need help, Sin Sisters! Just say my name!"

Then she turned back to look at Elena. She assumed that she wasn’t going to leave - if she was, Loni wouldn’t stop her, of course. But she wasn’t going to wait for her to say one way or the other before speaking what was on her mind.

"So, your mom taught you ‘bout magic too? Is she the only other Adept y’know?" Loni asked, thinking about how it had been for her before she got her job. Just her, her mamá and Vin. Then just her and Vin. And her mamá had been too busy to really help them develop spells, outside of ones Loni never wanted to learn. "If you ain’t met many, would you wanna meet more? You could come round my work sometime even if there ain’t any danger. We gotta few White adepts, maybe you can chat and help each other. We got loadsa knowledge and stuff. Course, only if you wanna!"

Loni’s expression was completely open and genuine. She was, of course, just making assumptions from her own situation. But it was how it tended to be for South Siders. There weren’t exactly friendly covens opening up their doors to any kindled Adepts. It was family, and not much else. Far as she was aware Vin still only had her.

"Even if you don’t, I’d love to try some of your tea sometime… Assumin’ you don’t just mix your magic in some kinda cheap bagged stuff? I ain’t a tea expert, but I’ve always liked it when I tried it. Not that I mean I'd like to try the magical stuff, even if I wanna see how it feels, I ain't got anythin' I wanna forget or remember." Loni continued. As she spoke her head tilted down a bit, pressing another kiss to the top of Luciana’s head. She gently rubbed her back, shifting her a little bit so her face wasn’t fully pressed into Loni’s chest. One big, anxious brown eye peered out and towards Elena. "Oh, just not today. I gotta concentrate on comfortin’ Luciana before I work."

---

Raven's Rest, the Front of Bill's Tattoo Shop
_{Interactions: Varnan @Blizz, Bryn [@Fernfur], Wild Bill/Elara/Luca/Doran/Ryan//Ethan @NoriWasHere}

---

There was no hesitation, the moment the creature began moving in earnest again Agent Jackson's pistol was already up, twelve shots fired joining those already coming from the other arrivals. None of which seemed to do much. It only took seconds before Jackson's sidearm was emptied, and he was already backing away, near the corner he'd just emerged from. Ducking back quickly around the corner yet again, he was already reloading and speaking into his radio. "Aura is active again! SPECIAL deployed. No visible effect."

"CENTRAL confirms SPECIAL deployed; no effect. Back off, disengage TWO. Special Law Enforcement and Cleanup Team are clearing the barricades now."

Jackson was already doing this, and there was no hiding the irritation in his voice as he acknowledged the comms. Peering around the corner at the others present, he realized he wasn't the only one wondering what it would take to finally drop this thing. It wasn't even clear it had even noticed he was present in between the rest of the rounds fired at the thing and yet it was still pushing forward.

One thing did get it's attention though as the doppleganger advanced towards the group still on the street. That was the sudden revving of an engine, and squeal of tires as black up-armoured, after market Chevrolet Suburban accelerated and veered wildly from where it had been quietly coming down the street.

The doppleganger just had time to turn it's head before the push-bar slammed into it, close to 50 mph. It tried to hang on but the suburban rocked back and forth as it the doppleganger lost its gripped and went under the passenger side tires rolling it a crumpled mass as the the 8,000lb or so vehicle's breaks activated and it went squealing into the front facade of Bill's Tattoo shop, going through the wall and coming to a stop with the driver and passenger side doors fully within the tattoo shop.

As the dust from the front of the shop hung in the air, the driver's side door propped open.

A young woman's head popped out looking back at the group still in the street. "That ah... that was a bad guy right...!?"

She stopped when the thing, which had seemed dead, started moving again.

"Oh shit!" Alejandra disappeared back into the Surburban, slamming the door closed again behind her.

Incredibly the thing shook its head, spitting some awful substance that might have been blood onto the pavement where it picked itself up on limbs that cracked and bent in ways that limbs were not meant to bend. Shaking it's grotesquely misshapen head - whose appearance had not been improved by being run over - it looked first to the Suburban, and then to the crowd gathered around it. Its mouth opened, and emitted a keening, ear piercing wail of rage that briefly drowned out the approaching sirens.

Still screaming, it braced itself on its seemingly broken limbs, prepared to stand once again.

At which point the wail was itself drowned out by the sound of smoking, squealing tires as the blacked out SUV's rear bumper took it square in the face. The SUV once again rocked and made a loud THUMP-THUMP as the spinning tires made contact with the doppleganger's face and body as Alejandra Escriva ran it over again in reverse.

---

---

---

---

---

---

The doppelganger’s body was a ruin of pulped flesh and shattered bones. Its limbs twisted at impossible angles where the SUV had crushed them into the pavement. Its ribcage was flattened, caved in like a stomped-on carcass, and black ichor oozed from its torn skin in thick, tar-like rivulets. Chunks of its skull lay scattered across the asphalt, the remnants of its borrowed face twitching with residual nerve spasms. The wet slap of its organs, ruptured and leaking, mixed with the sickly sound of skin knitting itself back together. Then, like something moving in reverse, the shattered bones cracked and jerked back into place, the mush of its body reassembling with a grotesque, sucking noise.

With a nauseating ripple, its ribs pushed outward, inflating its caved-in chest with an audible pop as fresh tendrils of sinew laced themselves back together. Its head, half-crushed and concaved, ballooned back into shape, the displaced chunks of flesh slithering across the pavement to rejoin the whole. One eye, reduced to little more than a pulp, reformed into a bubbling mass of raw meat before snapping open, wide, and aware. The doppelganger’s lips stretched into something resembling a grin as it shifted its eyes toward the SUV and the poor intern stuck inside. It licked its teeth as it surged forward.

Luca, meanwhile, had other plans for the monster. The constant barrage of magic and metal had caused the monster's emotional field to drop to a critical level, no doubt further reduced by the healing magic it had used. Thus, it had inadvertently left itself open to Luca’s special kind of killing blow. His hands summoned a blue circle, one in each hand that looked more like a very detailed dial than a circle with miniature spokes, and adjusted it. As he did, he kept a careful eye on the location of the monster at all times. He waited until it raised its hand far above its head, ready to clobber through the windscreen of the SUV, before he pushed his hands forward and activated his spell. Suddenly, all up and down the monster's body, blue circles appeared and the monster stopped moving. Slowly, the Doppelganger’s body fell downward through the several portals that Luca had opened. Eventually, only a pair or feet remained but they too soon found themself falling through a fresh portal that was opened after the rest had closed.

Nothing remained of the monster that had nearly killed the group multiple times thus far. No matter what magic was thrown its way it seemed to have a particular knack for tanking the hits. However, with the combined might of all the different kinds of Lux, bullets, and a literal car, meant that it instead met its match and was gone.
“I thought that would have been harder based on that phone call. That was a cakewalk,” Luca chuckled nervously as he fell to a knee. Even with the weakened emotional field of the monster it still required Luca to use much of his life force to empower the spell.
“Everyone, shut the fuck up,” Elara coughed out, spitting blood as she did, “Luca, can you get us home?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he paused as he knew he’d need a bath in the healing waters right after, “I got you. Thirty seconds and we can go.” Luca pushed himself back up and summoned the dials back to his hand as he began to adjust the teleportation spell, making sure to prevent anyone or anything from tracking their eventual departure.

“I don’t care what the rest of you do,” Elara pointed to every out-of-towner, “but you can’t stay here. Police are coming, we have a man on the inside who will take care of this but you can not be here when they get here,” Elara paused as she looked towards Varnan, nodding to thank him for saving their lives, and then to the intern in the SUV and shook her head in disappointment that the blind would risk themselves like this.

“If we catch y’all snooping around our town again we will have a problem,” Elara paused as she looked at the rest of them. “Do not let me catch y’all here when I get back,” Elara looked towards Luca and nodded. The rest of the Keepers had all gathered around Luca and, with a twist of the wrist, the teleportation spell activated and the group teleported away.

A moment later the entire group would find themselves in the Grove, about five feet away from the healing waters. Luca collapsed to the ground as they arrived, Elara fell to one knee and coughed up a lot more blood, and the rest knew that they would need to care for everyone who was wounded that day. Doran and Ethan grabbed Luca and began to pull him towards the water, meanwhile, Ryan helped Elara to her feet and did the same.

---

Quill waited what she thought was an appropriate amount of time. After disposing the corpse of the Doppelganger and ensuring the body of the female customer was appropriately taken care of for return to her family and loved ones, Quill made a stop at a nearby cafe to load up on caffeine.

It had been a day. She had thought, her first mistake, that it would be a simple thing to go into a bakery and ask the owner about one of her employees. Hell, the employee in question might have been working that day and that would have taken care of everything.

Instead she wound up in some….unfortunate business.Ha, business. Bakery.

Once she was satisfied with her caffeine intake (read: not at all enough), Quill made her way out and pulled out her phone, dialing then number she found. She waited, hoping the woman would pick up. She had some awkward questions and information.

Freya had remained in her bakery after everyone had left and had closed down while she cleaned up. The concussion to her head had not gotten much better but the family doctor was on his way to Freya to treat and monitor and would likely not leave her side until the following day. The fight had destroyed much of her shop, and her broom and dustpan would not be enough to fix it all, and instead, they would need to wait for the crew to arrive the next morning.

Freya’s phone began to ring, and her eyes slowly shifted to the charging stand that she had it on. She walked over and answered the call.

“Hello?”

Quill let out a small breath she had been holding. Their’s was the generation that didn’t answer phone calls, especially from unknown numbers. ”Hello Ms. Collins? My name is Quill St. Sebastien, I am a private investigator. I don’t know if you heard of me but I was in your bakery when certain….events happened. I wanted to see if I can ask you some questions.”

“Certain events?” Freya sighed as they rubbed their pain-filled head. “Yes. I don’t remember you but I don’t think I remember who was or wasn’t here. How can I help you?”

”We haven’t met Ms. Collins. I was in your bakery when it was attacked and I helped some of the people there. I am also the one that cleaned up the remaining…bodies and wiped the security from inside and outside. My questions pertain to one of your employees by the name of Varnan. I was wondering if I could talk to him. It pertains to a case I was assigned and I would very much prefer to speak in-person. I can give you my information if you want to check me out before disclosing any information.”

“I should thank you for that, the cleaning crew I was sent did not have to do much” Freya paused as she thought over the request, “but Varnan? I can’t give you his information without his consent but I’m happy to take a message that I can give him next time he’s in,” Freya paused as the thought of when that might be floated past her mind, “would that work?”

Quill knew there would be resistance. After all she was a stranger asking for information about someone. ”And I won’t even charge you for it.” The cleanup had been easy thanks to the help she had garnered. Though it was interesting to see the owner of a bakery have a clean-up crew. Something told Quill this wasn’t the first time something like a doppelganger attacking happened.

”That’s understandable. Can you tell him that I am looking into some recent activity for my client who owns some property that is experiencing a high level of threats? My client is interested in working with Varnan regarding this problem. You can let him know we can meet in person at a place of his choosing.”

“I can do that. Is there a number I can leave for him, or is this more of a ‘I have a certain set of skills, I will find you,’ kind of meet up” Freya groaned as her headache returned at full force. She would need to mind her steps the next time a monstrous entity tries to destroy her bakery.

”I mean, I do have that certain set of skills, but no you can give him my number and have him reach out to me.” Quill rattled off her phone number before continuing. ”And let me know if you need any help in the future. I don’t want to assume monster attacks are a normal thing for you, but I’ve lived here long enough to know it’s not totally uncommon.”

“Thank you I got it. Is there anything I can do for you to thank you” Freya asked genuinely.

”At the moment, no. But perhaps I’ll need a favor in the future. But please, pass on the message to Varnan and I’ll be in touch. Thank you Ms. Collins.”

“Likewise,” Freya responded as she ended the call and looked up in her office. “I am never going to financially recover from this.”

Varnan had called in sick ahead of his drive to Raven’s Rest, so he was entirely oblivious to the chaos that occurred at Freya’s bakery. He was expecting the day to take longer, in the form of him and Bill getting down to proper business about all the werewolves and vampires coming down the mountain. That didn’t work, so Varnan rode back to northern Cloverfield. He pulled into a parking lot outside a coffee shop at roughly 1pm in the afternoon. He’d done some sweeps around the edge of town for more apparitions as a precaution, and was planning to get back to that. In just a few minutes.

He swung off his motorcycle, swung out the kickstand and leaned against it. Varnan looked around, and confirmed that no one else was in the parking lot, so he reached for his watch and activated a spell. He ran his bike’s Parallel Code that he’d logged five minutes ago, and all the gas he’d used up in that small window conveniently reappeared.

He relived that five minutes that last five minutes, like a hallucination. And when it was finished, she was approaching him.

Quill had expected Varnan to want to meet at a location where he would be advantageous. She expected mistrust. So she went along with it. She made her way, carefully, approaching with her hands in full view. That meant little when it came to magic and all that, but still, she hoped it showed some faith.

”Hello Varnan. I assume Ms. Collins told you, but my name is Quill St. Sebastien. I am a private investigator working with a client who very much wishes to meet you. She asked me to make contact. She wanted to be here for it but I wanted to meet you first. I understand you have a particular set of skills that my client is very interested in utilizing. Hope it’s okay if we talk for a bit.”

She did tell him someone was after him. It couldn’t have been the Guild, they didn’t operate this way. He looked up at her, and Varnan didn’t strike her as an overt threat.

”...Yes. I was told someone had been looking for me regarding something,” he said. What, he didn’t know. ”What “skills” are you referring to, if I may?”

”From my understanding it is how you are able to keep an eye on things going on in this city. Not to put too fine a point on it but she mentioned threats to her holdings. Specifically she referred to them as monsters. Now, I am wise to the things going on around here so I know she isn’t talking about ‘Karens’ or other horrible people, but rather actual monsters. She brought you up as someone whose job it is to be aware of the threats and thought we should connect on how to go about removing said threats.”

“I understand I am not being super forthcoming. I am happy to share relevant information if this sounds…doable for you. My client does wish to be involved and they have the finances to be useful, at least somewhat.”

Monsters. Of course. ”Alright, then let’s talk. You have my attention.” It mattered that he knew she was at least somewhat paranormal. Enough to know what he’d been doing in the time he was here. ”What role do you have in this, as an investigator?” He could assume she wanted to know things about him. That was the polite way to ask about that.

Quill merely shrugged. ”I’m not really paid to ask questions. I’m more of a fixer so I fix problems. And this town has a habit of having problems that are monster-related or, at least, monster-adjacent. Plus I have my own skills.” She would not be elaborating, but she hoped he got the message. ”Plus I’m getting the sense a lot more is connected. After all, the bakery you worked at was attacked. You work there, I needed to go there. Lots of coincidences.”

Varnan’s head tilted upwards a bit. ”Attacked. The woman who owns that bakery- Was she hurt?” It couldn’t possibly have been a vampire, or a werewolf, could it? And he was there yesterday for closing time, it had to have been while he was in Raven’s Rest this morning.

Quill tilted her head to one side, as if trying to look at the man at a different angle. Did he not know? Wouldn’t Freya have told him if he was this supposed guardian who knew of threats to the town? ”Apart from one of the customers being killed, everyone else is all right, more or less. Ms. Collins was not present when I was there but she is aware of what happened. I helped clean up the mess afterwards as one of the other people, Loni if I remember right, needed to be brought to the hospital. There was some…thing. A mimic? A doppelganger? Something to that effect.”

Quill was still wrapping her mind around it. ”Be that as it may, I believe everyone is safe. I also believe I have given a lot more answers than I have received. So Varnan, care to share what you know?”

He crossed his arms and thought for a moment. It was always tricky discussing the paranormal with strangers. But this woman clearly was paranormal herself. To what extent, he was unsure.

But…

”I fought something like that, already. Once. Out of respect for others involved, I won’t say where. But they are dangerous. It could ignore certain things it was subjected to. I haven’t noticed more than one yet, though.”

”So you have fought one before, which means it’ll likely come back. I do not know if that is the threat my client was speaking of or if it is just one of many in this godsforsaken city, but either way it seems you are skilled.”

“My client needs help, but I believe they could speak more as to what exactly they need. They would like to meet up to talk provided you are willing. She is like us in that I felt power stirring inside of her. Would you be willing to meet up? I’ll be there to help if things get dicey. If they do intend to backstab me I will not make it easy for them.”

”That will be fine.” He nodded. ”There are other things in Cloverfield besides them. Other things that I’ve tried to keep tabs on.”

”I believe they mentioned that. If you would not mind my curiosity, what other things are you tracking?” Nothing would surprise her here, but it would be nice to know what creatures are going bump in the night. Preparation is key.

”The kind that aren’t native to here. Most of them come down from the mountains, and conveniently find their way here.” There was always a chance that someone paranormal wasn’t exactly human themselves, so he wasn’t going to admit that they were vampires and werewolves. ”Apparitions, monsters.”

”Seems your ability to track falls in line with my client’s wishes to have some problems of their own taken care of. And it seems I’ll need to walk around with more defenses on my side. Shall I set up the meeting then or would you prefer to reach out to my client? Unsure what they would want but they sort of gave me carte blanche to handle this.”

”Feel free. And let me know when. Is there a way I can contact you?”

Quill gave off her phone number. ”There. And let me know if I can be of use to you in the future. Can never have too many allies to battle the creepy crawlies that threaten our good town.” Said with a hint of sarcasm, but the offer was genuine all the same.

---

"Oh yeah, my coven’s really interestin’! Really nice too… like my boss, Momo! She’s really strong magic wise, pure Green, so you’d expect her to be scary, but she really ain’t. If it weren’t for her I’d be havin’ a much harder time, ‘specially with Luciana. Before I met her I thought all covens were evil, cause’ve the stories my Mamá told me. But Momo showed me that ain’t the case… she cares ‘bout all of us like we’re her family." Loni babbled away, gently rocking Luciana as she did. She didn’t notice Elena’s lack of commitment - it went completely over her head. She was just happy to talk about someone she liked.

Not that Elena had asked. But Loni had taken it as that, talking away before laughing at the tea comment. Wow, Elena sure did dislike bagged tea… which was understandable if she worked with it. Loni had never been much of a tea person herself. She did love a good mug of hot cocoa, though her Mamá had made it best. But maybe the non lifeless loose-leaf tea would be nicer.

Again, the deadpan humour itself went over her head…

"Thanks for not dying tea has a nice ring to it," Loni smiled, glancing over at the slightly ajar door. If Elena was going to make her tea sometime… they’d need a way to meet up again. While Loni had made the decision not to give her number to either of them… it would be fine with Elena, right?

After all, the problems she had before were always with men. Not that Elijah seemed the sort, but Momo and Vin had been really firm about her not giving out her number to strangers. Guys especially. So… it was fine for a lady! Someone who’d protect her daughter as well.

"Oh! If we’re gonna have tea sometime, in case you don’t come round to my work…" Loni leaned over from the bed, awkwardly reaching for her bag. The blanket across her injured shoulder slipped down, revealing the mostly healed wound. It was in the last stages now, with the skin growing across exposed muscle. As she leant down she felt a bit lightheaded… but the healer had said her blood would take a little longer to regenerate.

From her bag Loni pulled out a pad of paper, and a red crayon. She scribbled on the paper, before ripping it out and holding it out to Elena. "Here, that’s my number. It’ll make things easier if you wanna stop by too."

Luciana’s hand reached out, grasping at the crayon. Loni let her have it… though she didn’t go to start doodling like Loni had hoped. Instead she grasped it in her little hand, curling back up against her chest. If Loni had known they were going to get attacked, she would’ve brought one of Luciana’s plushies… but how was she supposed to know something like that?

"C’mon, baby, why don’t you hold Mamá’s hand? Ain’t that comfier?" Loni gently unwrapped Luciana’s hand from the crayon, replacing it with two of her fingers. Luciana pulled them up to her chin, hiding her face away again. Loni kissed the top of her head, before looking over at Elena again. "When I next see you she’ll be back to her normal happy self."

---

---

---

”Again.”

Bright lights in a sterile environment were the most blinding when coming back to reality. Breathing was difficult too… Suddenly aware of it, chest heaving up and down as if emerging from choppy waters. It felt like it. Being inside a mind without consent was like being trapped in underwater tunnels, having to keep swimming without drowning or getting lost. The goal was never worth it…

”Vanessa. Did you hear me?”

Don’t argue. It’ll hurt. Vanessa nodded. Her vision was beginning to come back, her father’s voice ringing in her ears over all the thoughts that clustered her mind.

She didn’t want to see. Seeing meant seeing him. A man strapped to an operating table like they were about to cut him open. They were, just not in the traditional way. He was larger than her, but so weak. Red Lux adept, kindled four years ago. He specialised in water and ice magic. Couldn’t use any of it right now. Charles had seen to that. His magic wasn’t incredibly potent, but it wasn’t that weak either.

He was crying. She’d barely done anything and he was crying.

She felt sick.

”Why are you still here if you heard me? I don’t have all day to sit around watching you flounder in a man’s mind trying to use a simple spell.”

Vanessa felt a sharp scratch in her mind as she turned to look at Charles with slightly narrowed eyes. He lounged in the corner of the room, arms folded with a gaze fixed firmly on her. Everything about him exuded harshness. His crisp business suit was out of place in the sterile, mostly empty room that he made seem so much smaller. Not a room… an experimental prison chamber.

Simple spell? It wasn’t simple at all. She was trying to manipulate a man’s mind. Just like hers had been… the scratching pain a reminder of what would happen if she argued. It wasn’t just that. It was the indifference her father looked at her with. That hurt more, her chest constricting with panic. He wasn’t happy with her. Again. She couldn’t deal with that. She had to do better.

”I was just thinking about where I went wrong. Sorry.” Her eyes slipped to the floor. She couldn’t bear to see how he looked at her.

”You should already know. Get on with it.”

She had to go back in. There was no arguing with him… not if she wanted to stay conscious. She’d made no progress the whole week. She had to today. If she did, maybe he’d tell her she did well. Maybe they could have dinner together. Maybe he’ll love me.

Vanessa closed her eyes as Pink Lux flooded through her. I want him to love me, I want him to love me, I want him to love-

It was easy to slip right through the crack she’d made in the man’s emotional field. Images flashed across her vision in quick succession and she could feel everything. His pain, fear… desperation to get out of the situation he’d found himself in. There’d be no escape. None of the ones she worked on were the ‘lucky ones’ Charles let leave.

All of this was useless to her. She cleared it all away until she was floating in near emptiness. It was almost peaceful. A moment where she just was within the mind of another. It never lasted. It couldn’t last, because she was in here for a reason.

She needed to fundamentally change his brain. It wasn’t a pleasant process for him… or for her. Only a psychopath would enjoy it.

Like Father.

A jolt of phantom pain brought her back to what she was doing. Let’s start.

Picking through the mind was much like sorting threads from each other. She’d spent years just cracking emotional fields and doing basic mind control on people, so moving her way through all the strings of thoughts, emotions and functions wasn’t so difficult. But it was mutating them. Mind control was easy. She just took control. It was active. She didn’t even need to be inside like this to do it. Just the magic was enough.

But it wasn’t permanent. Permanency was harder. Even the cursed mind control was something she’d gotten a bit of a hang of… because she liked being in control. But permanently changing the mind with her Pink Lux? She just couldn’t get it right. It always bounced back… and it shouldn’t be so hard!

Everything wavered around her, and she took a deep breath. Concentrate.

She’d found what she needed. The part of the brain that caused movement. She knew how to adjust it if she wanted to force someone to move while controlling them. But what she wanted right now was muscle spasms that never went away. A magical chronic illness.

But why even do this? What use is it to you… or to him? Why does he do any of this? Why is he teaching me this?

It didn’t matter. She couldn’t answer any of her questions… and she couldn’t question her father. She’d tried. Hadn’t understood his explanation. Then every other question was seen as defiance.

Magic flowed through her, twisted pink tendrils that latched onto all the areas she needed to change. Slowly, carefully… It hurt. His pain as the shell around them jerked against its bindings hit her. Then, the fighting back. His mind pushed back against the intrusion. More magic, gritted teeth, and she suppressed him.

Done. Her magic pulled away, and she could feel the shift around her as it all went back. No! Fuck! That wasn’t what was meant to happen. It was supposed to stay! Why couldn’t she figure this out? Why?

It just wasn’t working. She couldn’t do it. No, no, she had to get it this time. She had to figure it out before she left his mind. If she failed… he’d punish her again. He wouldn’t talk to her. She’d be left all alone.

More magic. She had to use more magic. Of course it would be harder to make it permanent. But she could. She had enough. Magic flooded out of her and into his mind. It crashed into the spots she’d been carefully adjusting before.

More, more, more, more-

Everything went white.

She couldn’t breathe. Acrid burning filled her nostrils, and she choked on it. The cold floor underneath her hands didn’t feel real. Nothing felt real. How was the floor so close? When had she fallen? Pictures swum in front of her eyes, covering up the shining grey. Was she dying? No. Not her last memories. His.

Vanessa’s head snapped up.

A limp hand came into her still blurry vision. A limp body. His chest… was his chest moving? It had to be. She’d just used too much, he’d passed out. Right? That was it. He’d passed out, so she could just check his mind easily- it wasn’t there. There was nothing there anymore. Nothing for her magic to latch onto. Her curse wasn’t there anymore because his mind was gone.

She’d killed him.

It was difficult to breathe again. Her chest heaved up and down as she curled forward, chest pressing against her legs. She couldn’t… she hadn’t. She had. She’d killed someone. She was a murderer. But she hadn’t meant to! That didn’t matter. He was dead. Oh God, he was dead. She felt sick. Her nails dug into her thighs to stop herself from dry heaving. The pain helped.

”Not the spell I was trying to teach you,” Charles scoffed. His chair screeched against the floor behind Vanessa, and his tailored grey dress pants came into view in front of her. She tilted her head back until she could see his face from where she knelt on the floor. Impassive. But not… disdainful. ”I suppose I no longer have to show you how to kill someone from inside their mind. Well done. I’m surprised you managed to develop a spell yourself.”

It wasn’t like that. She hadn’t been trying to do anything. She hadn’t meant to. But he was… proud of her. He wasn’t disappointed in her. She hadn’t failed. She wasn’t a failure.

Happiness bloomed in her chest, pushing away the heaviness that had settled there. Finally. She’d been failing so much… now he wouldn’t abandon her. He’d love her. Was it worth it? Killing someone. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t really her fault. And he wasn’t upset.

”Get up. That’s enough for today. I suppose there’s enough time for a meal before I proceed with my own work. Come on.”

Vanessa didn’t say anything, just pushing to her shaky feet and following behind Charles’ daunting back. But he felt a little less cold today.

She’d killed someone, but for now she wasn’t going to think about it. Not with her father’s attention like this. She wouldn’t process it until later, lying alone on her Queen sized bed with the lights dimmed. A mindless movie played on her new tablet in an attempt to fill the silent emptiness.

There’d be no peaceful sleep for her tonight. The brief spark from her father’s interest wasn’t enough.

And there would be many, many more restless nights in the future.

---

---

It was difficult to tell whether it was the light shining through her curtainless window or the memory fueled nightmare that woke Nessa.

She was still stuck in it, one close enough to reality that it played with her mind as her eyes squinted open. She expected to be there- her large, luxurious bedroom filled with things she’d bought to fill the void in her heart. Instead all she saw was a dull, off cream ceiling that was chipped away. The damp patch she’d spent hours staring at was still present in the corner. She wasn’t there anymore. She wasn’t her anymore.

Just Nessa. Not Vanessa Beaumont, not someone that needed to hurt and kill anymore. Does it really matter? It doesn’t change what I’ve done. And is this really better?

She'd been trapped in a nightmare for almost three days, rotting away in bed. Spiralling further down and down with only her thoughts and memories for company. What was the point anyway? Why did she bother trying to live this miserable existence? Did she even deserve it?

It was a sharp knock at the door that finally dragged her out of bed. ‘Bed’ consisted of a small double mattress pushed up in the corner of the room, with a ratty duvet and two flat pillows. It was shit, but it was a bed. The only thing that didn’t look worn as fuck was the small heated pad that hand ended up shoved to the side sometime in the throes of her nightmare. The one ‘luxury’ she’d purchased to present herself from freezing to death in winter.

The rest of the small room wasn’t much better. There were two chairs shoved under a tiny table opposite the mattress. One leg of the table was practically broken, so an unassuming leather journal was shoved underneath it to stabilise it. Behind them, a tiny kitchen - turned off refrigerator, one countertop with storage underneath it and a thankfully working gas stove. The only other piece of furniture was a wonky wardrobe, unused. All her clothes were in a suitcase beside her bed, covering her few remaining ‘valuables’. Mildew creeped across the dingy corners.

There were empty bottles shoved in the corner nearest the door- an ill-considered purchase that she’d hoped would drown her sorrows, and perhaps she wouldn’t wake up from it. Instead she had woken up, so sick that she’d spent the whole day curled over her toilet. At least she didn't need to eat that day…

The knock sounded again, this time louder and more impatient.

”Calm down! I’m fucking coming!”

Nessa groaned, shuffling across the cold floor towards the door. She didn’t bother getting dressed, still in her night clothes - an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants filled with holes. There were very few people who’d bother knocking on her door.

She unlocked the double locks- the only good thing about this miserable fucking place was that she was unlikely to be murdered in her sleep. Sadly. Pulling it open revealed the taller stature of her landlady. Middle aged, she was a South Sider that had gotten lucky and now owned this small apartment block in the worst area of Westwood. Single room apartments that originally hosted short term workers were now filled with the destitute who’d lost everything. People with no hope.

Like her.

“Rents due.” The stern looking woman - Irene, Nessa’s mind slowly supplied - got straight to the point. Dark eyes narrowed at Nessa, while her smile was expectant verging on taunting.

”Today?”

“It’s Monday.”

Shit, was it. She didn’t have the money… Fifty dollars. Fifty fucking dollars, and she didn’t have it.

“Y’know if you pay by the month I won’t visit so much.”

Nessa bit her lip to hold back on the nastier things she wanted to say. She couldn’t piss off the person who allowed her to keep a roof over her head… and who’d taken enough pity on her to allow her to move in and out as she pleased. She even got their utilities at an illegally low rate, found her cheap bedding and blankets. It was the closest thing to sympathy you’d get in this place… it was just the snide comments. She couldn’t stand it.

And she had magic. Nessa had no idea what, but there was a firm emotional field preventing her from intruding.

”I don’t have it. I’ll get it to you tomorrow.”

Irene raised an eyebrow, then laughed. “Will you? You ain’t gonna just walk out with another man, then drag yoursel’ back the next week? You still gotta pay for today.”

Nessa bit her lip again, staring silently. Don’t rise to the bait. Don’t snap.

“Fine. Tomorrow, or you’re out.”

A polite nod, and Nessa let the door close. Locks were clicked back into place.

She was left alone again. Alone to figure out how to not end up on the streets. She’d sold every single expensive thing to her name, bar a small amount of clothing. But if she sold that then she needed to replace it… and the replacements would be lower quality, and require replacing again. She couldn’t do that. And she had to look good.

It would be so easy to solve all of her problems with her magic… but she couldn’t. She refused to use the spells Charles had taught her. If she did then she was no better than him. She’d be complicit. Truly guilty.

I’m already guilty…

A hand came up to touch the cat claw hanging from her right ear.

There was one more thing left to sell. She frowned, crouching in front of her suitcase. An outfit for today was picked out as she rummaged, put on the mattress behind her neatly. Finally she found it- pulling a necklace out by its gold chain. A delicate V hung at the bottom.

It was a gift she’d gotten from her first girlfriend. They were both sixteen at the time, exploring their sexuality for the first time. Nessa had been attracted to women before but she’d never acted on it… until then. It had been a particularly hard time in her life as she started to learn spells so bad she felt she didn’t deserve to live with the ability to cast them.

But she was nice to her. It was one of the first times Nessa actually felt loved. Such a short period of almost happiness. Like everything, it ended. Her girlfriend’s parents found out and forced her to end it. Then Charles found out, and his reaction had been just as bad.

I won’t allow pointless relationships that can’t continue my legacy.

This necklace was all that was left. An expensive trinket from one rich teenager to another. A sentimental keepsake of something that could never be.

Her survival was more important than sentimentality. She’d sell it… but the money wouldn’t last. It just put off the inevitable. She needed to find something to drag her out of this. Someone.

It wasn’t like she could work… her fucking Social Security Number would immediately show who she was, and she’d end up in a cell right next to her father. She couldn’t. So she had to depend on other people. People who she could move in with, or would at least buy her food…

Maybe tonight she’d be lucky, and find the one.

It was a nice hope. Enough motivation for Nessa to pull out her one pan, filling it with water and throwing it on the burner. One pan full of boiling water was thrown into a plastic basin, then another. Finally she put a smaller amount on to boil as she waited for that to cool, pulling out a nearly empty bag of dried pasta.

She’d need to get more food today.

It wasn’t a satisfactory meal, but it was something. She’d grown used to only eating once or twice a day, swallowing down whatever she could get for cheap. She couldn’t afford to be fussy.

By the time she was done the water was cool enough that it wouldn’t burn her. She dragged it into her tiny bathroom, into the square shower that she never actually used. It’s hot water didn’t work. Never had.

Instead she used the water she’d heated up to wipe down her body after stripping off. Days worth of sweat removed until she was as squeaky clean as one could be in this godforsaken place. Then she crouched down, leaning forward to dunk her whole head in. Her thicky, wavy hair was a nightmare to take care of even after she’d cut a good amount of it off. She just couldn’t bear to remove more of it… so she was left struggling to clean it in a plastic basin. She was forced to twist her whole body, arms pulling up to scrub shampoo out of it.

It was good enough.

Time ticked by slowly after she got dressed, waiting for her hair to dry enough that she wouldn’t end up an absolute mess the moment the wind touched it. She filled some of the time by doing her makeup, carefully to only put on as much as she felt she needed. Enhancing her looks, hiding the dark bags beneath her eyes and other blemishes without wasting too much of dwindling supplies.

Eventually her hair dried, and she was satisfied with how she looked. It was time to force herself outside for the first time in days. She’d sell the necklace, then she’d find a guy to spend the night with.

Hopefully it would be more than just a night. A week, a month… anything. Any amount of time where she might not have to worry about where her next meal would come from. And when she wouldn’t be alone, either. It didn’t matter what the company was like. But maybe, if she was really lucky, this time she’d find someone that would help her escape.

Nessa wasn’t going to get her hopes up.

Northside
St Alexia’s Practice
Interacts: N/A

---

Well, goodbye, you three, and if we meet again, I hope it is under better circumstances." With that, Elijah left their company and left the clinic.

Today was still young, and yet it felt like he needs a day off after what happened. He just wanted a buttered croissant and ended up with a monster to fight. Elijah would like to know what exactly that thing was and what its last words meant. Was it a last attempt to strike fear in them, or was it a warning for what was to come?

Elijah let out a sigh as he walked back to his car. He wishes he somehow had access to something that could help him with this. If he still had access to the Watchers' library and resources. This would not be a problem, but he was alone and with little support.

He reached his car and annoyingly opened and closed the door as he got inside and hesitated to start it. He did say things would change today and maybe this is the extra kick he needs to do something he has been thinking about. Either joining a coven or doing the harder bit and starting his own group, bringing back the Watchers.

Elijah took a deep breath and leaned back in his seat, eyes closed. It has been a year, and he still misses them. They could have treated him poorly since he was a Blind turned One Eye Open, but they did not, and plus. His family treated him well even when he was the only non-adept in the family. But that means getting close to people again, and.... he does not want to lose more. Hell, he failed to save someone today and that was a random person. Could he...

"No," Elijah said to himself, and his eyes opened. Pushing the negative thoughts from his mind or now. He needs to think to really think, and if he does, bring back the Watchers and honor their memory. He needs a plan and he does not have one right now. So, Elijah was he started up his car and was going to focus on finishing his remaining tasks today and when he was done. Then, he will think of what to do next. Maybe even scout places that could be used as a base for the Watchers. There are plenty of rundown buildings in Southside that are still unclaimed by anyone.

So Elijah turned on the radio to his favorite station and drove away with a goal in mind. The only thing he can think of right now is if anymore stuff will happen to him today. He hopes not.

---

Loni didn’t know enough about tea to get Elena’s joke about chamomile. Was it because it was too fancy? Or just didn’t seem like a flavour she’d like? Loni didn’t know, and she didn’t dwell on it. There wasn’t any point overthinking light teasing!

"I’ll trust your tea choice! I ain’t really the tea type at all,but ‘m sure you’ll fine somethin’ I like." Loni smiled at Elena, while comfortingly curling her hand around Luciana’s. She was glad Elena was willing to see her again. It was difficult to make friends in this city… and while Loni had met many people through her work and coven, it was nice to meet someone outside it. The more friends she had, the better!

And Elena had protected Luciana. Loni already felt a connection.

"Mhm, don’t worry, I’d never rush my baby girl. But she’s a real trooper… Ain’t sure where she got it from, not me." Loni let out a light laugh, her other hand running through Luciana’s curls. It was much easier now that her shoulder was nearly healed. ”She’ll get all the love in the world till she’s better."

Loni meant it completely. She looked down at her daughter with eyes filled with love. The toddler was everything to her… and even though Loni’s tone was light, there was a pain in her heart seeing Luciana still like this. It was only the Black Lux remaining apathy that let her hold it together…

But once she was done here, she could go to Sin Sisters. Luciana would calm down in a familiar place.

"Oh, oh, ‘course, if you gotta go… don’t lemme keep you." Loni was snapped out of it as she realised Elena was talking about leaving. While she didn’t like the idea of being left alone, even for a short while before she went elsewhere… she couldn’t exactly keep Elena. She’d already been nice enough to stay this long.

"Thanks again for stayin’ and all you did for Luciana… Just text me anytime, if I ain’t workin’ I’m around. I’d really like that… if you got in touch. Hmm, Mijita? You wanna see the nice lady again?" Loni shifted her body slightly, raising the little hand in her own as if waving at Elena. Luciana’s head tilted up slightly so her large watery eyes could peer up at her mother. She quickly hid her face against Loni again.

Loni only held her closer, looking over her head at Elena with a smile. "It don’t seem like it, but I think that’s a yes."

---

---

Marco closed the door and pressed his head against it. “Shit,” he thought to himself. His princess powers were on full display, and he had to debrief the civilian, and then walk home in this outfit through the South Side. There was a new season of his favorite game coming out in an hour or so as well so the longer this took the less time he would have today to game. He would have to be quick. Vin would help with this. They could good cop, bad cop this civilian. He looked towards Vin and gave them a wink.

Marco turned around and placed his hands on his hip, and accidentally flexed his pec muscles right towards Paloma causing them to dance. “We’re not going to be long, we just want to know what you know. Listen, we’re all friends here after that messed up situation, right?”

Friends? Paloma thought the two of them being friends was a great starting point just as long as they didn’t get stuck there. It was a bit difficult to respond with her being unable to close her mouth , so she just nodded. Yes, they were all friends here. Well, Vin was technically now her minion, but she was an amiable overlord.

”Speak for yourself, sparkly asshole,” Vin rolled their eyes at him. Friends? As if. They didn’t get the hint from the wink… but thankfully for Marco, they were naturally a bad cop. ”Getting my leg torn off didn’t make me feel any fucking friendlier.”

They tilted their head back to look down at Paloma, eyes narrowing. The heels actually made it easier, seeing as they were barely an inch taller than her… didn’t make the outfit any better. It did fit their body well. The short skirt was flattering, showing off curves they normally kept hidden- aside from the days they felt feminine and wore skirts of similar lengths. But then it was a choice. They folded their arms across their chest. The lithe but well defined muscles of their forearms flexed as their fists clenched.

”What the fuck did you want with David Smith that was so important you shoved yourself into a dangerous situation? I think I deserve a fucking explanation after I risked my ass holding back on that thing.”

Paloma was finally able to close her mouth as Vin’s insistence for an explanation made her grimace, her head retreating back into her body like a turtle into its shell as Vin stared down at her. Vin was right, they totally did deserve an explanation–in private. Not that Marco would rat her out or anything, after all they were now friends, but who knew if the room was bugged or if that wall overthere was secretly a very high-tech, very well-hidden one-way mirror. Once they were out of here she would totally dish, and hopefully in return Vin would tell Paloma their arm routine.

“But I already told you earlier, Vin,” said Paloma. She paused, at first seemingly for dramatic effect, and then because she had forgotten what lame excuse she’d given Vin and the others earlier when they’d asked what she was doing getting involved in their business. Stupid, sexy arms. Stupid, jealousy inducing pecs. Paloma blinked rapidly. No, wait, something got flipped around there. Whatev–oh, right, that’s what she had said!

“I’m his neighbor?” she said, unintentionally making it sound like a question as she raised an eyebrow and gave a smarmy smile. Yeah, nobody would buy that. Paloma quickly waved her hands in front of her, trying to erase the shit lie. “What I meant is, I was his neighbor. Before. In the past. Just happened to be in the area and decided to drop off some leftover cupcakes from work.”

Paloma snapped her head towards Marco with such speed it was a surprise she didn’t break her neck on the spot, “I work at the hospital. GSN. Is that the one you’re at?”

“I work at the….” Marco sighed as he knew what would follow this revelation, “at the children’s hospital. Cloverfield Children’s,” he paused as he smiled, “I do a week straight at the hospital and then I work down in the clinic over on broad street.”

Fuck those kids! Paloma twisted the narrowing of her eyes into the batting of her eyelashes.

“I have so much respect for pediatricians. I actually work with children myself sometimes,” she said. Technically true. She sometimes cleaned their rooms. “ But wow, it sounds like you’re so busy. I’ve never done a week straight. Do you have to work today? When do you have time off?”

”Oy,” Vin cut through her questioning, eyes narrowing. They didn't believe that she'd been his neighbour for one moment- who was so insistent on giving a neighbour a cupcake they'd push through gang members? And offer said cupcake to them to talk to him? But… for once, they thought about it. They'd offered to help, she'd accepted. So she'd have to tell them. It'd be easier for them to intimidate her when Mr. Sexy Chest wasn't around. ”You ain't here to ask him on a date. Or ask the questions at all.”

They decided to change tactic slightly. ”You talked as if you knew what that thing was? How?”

”I'm a dungeon master. Do you play?’ asked Paloma.

A… dungeon master? Like, BDSM kind of shit? She had a sex dungeon she was the master of? Her. Vin tilted their head. ”No. Y'think just cause I'm in a gang I'm into that kinda kinky shit?”

“Oh Vin, no,” Marco mustered the courage to say despite his desire to laugh, “she means dungeons and dragons. How did that help you know what that thing was?”

Dungeons and dragons? Vin wasn’t any less confused. So she enjoyed domination dragons?

”I mean, they're a pretty common monster in most of the modules I run. Everything else I’d read from the monster manual. I have the book in my room. I can show it to you later,” said Paloma with a wink. She didn't mean the book. She gestured at Marco’s sailor scout uniform. “Obviously you're into cosplay. Do you also like to roleplay?”

“Cosplay? Roleplay,” Marco stammered out as he looked down at his princess fit, “I do like larping so yes. That’s what you were asking when talking about roleplay, right Paloma?”

No, that wasn’t what Paloma was talking about at all. Paloma had shifted her eyes away from Marco the moment he mentioned LARPing and locked gazes with Vin, passing on an icy look of condescension. Strike one.

“Not exactly, but I supposed it counts. I never LARPed before. I’m strictly tabletop. What do you like about it?” asked Paloma. As long as Marco wasn’t just into it so he could beat the shit out of someone with a fake sword then perhaps she could restrain her judgment.

“Oh, what’s not to like? The costumes, the socialization, the drinking at the bars afterward,” he paused as he chuckled, “it also counts as a paid volunteer event with the clinic, something about having a doctor on the playing field when people beat the crap out of each other making the event safer,” he paused as he leaned forward. He knew this girl caught his pec dance earlier, and she seemed to respond well to it, maybe if he did it again she would tell him everything she knew without further deflection. “Hey,” he paused as he flexed the muscles, “tell us more about why you were there. What drove you into the building with the monster? How did it avoid killing you?” He made his pecs dance again.

Paloma tugged at her collar as the mental umpire retracted its previous call. Jesus, this room was hot, but the line of questioning made it uncomfortably so. There were some things best kept secret. The Samaritan was one of them.

“Look at me,” said Paloma, countering the muscle exhibition with a little play of her own. She turned up her chin, widened her eyes, and batted her lashes. Was that a tear lingering near the precipice of her lid or just a trick of the light? She clasped her hands together behind her back and swayed softly. “Who would want to kill little old me?”

*bounce*

“I’m sure not one person would want to kill you on purpose,” Marco started, “but that wasn’t a person. Far from it.”

”I kind of want to kill you both right now,” Vin intoned, having been forced to watch whatever this was for far too long. Their dark eyes moved to Paloma. ”Your Apparition protected you, didn’t it?”

“No, you protected me. Remember?” said Paloma, meeting Vin’s eyes and not looking away.

Vin stared right back unflinchingly. ”Not when I was thrown against the wall and it tried its best to kill you.”

Though, it was pretty clear from what little they knew of her that she’d just double down and insist that it was all Vin, and not her Apparition. Which, fine. That wasn’t what was important. They’d rather move on from it so they could spend less time dealing with her annoying ass. ”Marco’s right. It wasn’t a person. It was an Apparition- maybe a doppelganger’s the specific type. It was a lot more interested in you than me… Why?”

“Sounds like a question we should ask the doppelganger,” said Paloma with an unintentional bit of bite in her tone. “Too bad it’s dead.”

”You wanna experience gettin’ your leg ripped in half?” Vin’s lips pulled back into a sharp toothed sneer. It was an empty threat- the boss would have their head if they laid a hand on a civilian. ”It ain’t fun. Try keepin’ whatever did that to you alive.”

“Well I just don’t know why you two keep asking me questions I can’t answer. I’m happy to help out, but it’s starting to feel like I’m being interrogated,” said Paloma. “Am I in trouble? I didn’t tell that guy to jump in front of me.”

”If you had, you’d already be dead. We ain’t stupid, we know Caleb tried to protect you,” Vin frowned, looking over at Marco. This was an interrogation- and they weren’t good enough with words to make some shit up to pretend it wasn’t. That was his job.

“That’s why we figured we’d ask a few questions. We lost one of our own, brutally might I add. It’s only natural that we see what you know which is apparently nothing,” Marcos tone was slightly coarse, “I don’t have much more to ask. Vin?”

Vin narrowed their eyes suspiciously at Paloma. There was definitely some shit she wasn’t telling them… but they didn’t know how to get it out of her without violence. Was why she was there that important? Probably not, they were more interested in the thing they’d fought… the doppelganger. But if her information came from some kind of cosplay roleplay game? It was useless.

”No. If she ain’t gonna talk, she ain’t gonna talk.” They narrowed their eyes at Paloma. ”You’re lucky the boss don’t like us hurtin’ normal people.”

“You were just at the wrong place, at the wrong time,” Marco sighed, “anyway for your trouble we’ll cover your lunch and any fare to get back home. As well,” Marco paused as he wrote down the number for the Hollow on a piece of paper, “if anything like that pops up on your radar you give us a call. Understand?”

”Oh, you don't have to do that,” said Paloma about the offer for money, lying through her teeth. She'd happily pocket any extra cash they threw her way, but she definitely wouldn't use it on a ride share. She was pretty certain Uber didn't pick up around here anyway. Her eyes lit up as Marco handed her a phone number, the hope (or perhaps hopelessness) evident in her voice as it squeaked to new heights. ”Is this your number?”

“It is,” he paused, “a number that I can be reached at, yes.”

”Okay! Lemme text you so you can have mine,” said Paloma, pounding out the digits she had already memorized with quick efficiency while failing to consider what he had actually said. She stared dejectedly as the message failed to send, then glanced up at Marco. She pointed at the piece of paper. “That is a four, right?”

Doctor’s handwriting. That must've been it.

Vin let out a short laugh, answering for Marco. Their lips pulled up into an evil smile as they side eyed the man who’d taken convincing to save their fucking life. ”It ain’t his number, it’s the Hollow’s. He’s too much of a pussy to give you his personal one!”

“Well. That explains the stupid skirt,” said Paloma with a bit of bite in her voice, lowering her brow and passing along her own wicked smirk to Vin. Then her face brightened. “Just kidding! Oh, speaking of pussies–Vin.”

There was a deliberately longer-than-needed pause before Paloma wagged a pen at her and started writing some numbers on the back of the note Marco had passed her. She held the piece of paper out for Vin and cooed out in a grating, nails-on-chalkboard baby voice, “Here’s my number for my favo-wite widdle pussycat.” She dropped the accent and sprung the trap that Vin had accidentally set for themself. “Can I have yours?”

”Ugh.” Vin didn't bother to hide their annoyance, but they still snatched the paper from Paloma's fingers. They had technically offered to help her… as much as it'd been an offer to look good in front of the boss. But as much as she got on their nerves, Vin had to give her some credit for the way she didn't back down at all… ”Fine, just don't use that fuckin’ voice, I got sensitive cat ears… and don't call me that.”

Instead of going for the written method, because their handwriting was garbage, Vin pulled out their phone. An old, battered flip phone that looked like it'd seen way better days. They swiftly typed in Paloma's number before sending a text… Very short and to the point, they literally texted her Vin.

”There. Don't expect fast responses, unless it's an emergency.”

“Mhm, mhm. Smile!” Paloma’s phone flashed before the word was even fully out of her mouth. “Oh, that’s gonna be such a cute contact photo. Lemme send it to you.”

Vin’s phone vibrated, but instead of the photo is was just a text: meet me outside

“So, I’m free to go?” asked Paloma.

---

---

Ideally, Vin would’ve had a couple of drinks at the bar and left when Paloma was long gone. They could’ve just ran while she collected her compensation. It would’ve been easier… but they had to know what the fuck is was she wanted to say that required that kinda secrecy.

So they waited outside for Paloma to get their promised travel fare (ridiculous considering taxi services didn’t run in most of the South). They moved a bit around from the entrance, pulling a cigarette and their lighter out of their coat. It was a habit they’d mostly broken since Loni moved back in- not wanting even a whiff of smoke around Luciana- but sometimes they needed it.

Like right now, to deal with this annoying woman for any longer.

Paloma left the bar with a fistful of dollars tucked inside the breast pocket of an oversized peacoat left behind and likely forgotten by a former patron that the Hollow had so graciously let her borrow. Her face lit up when she saw that Vin had actually waited for her, giving her new cohort an unnecessarily energetic wave that quickly morphed into her swatting away a cloud of smoke as she jaunted over. Paloma swallowed the reactive cough and held back her disparaging comments about smoking. Paloma didn’t want to chastise her new minion, partially because she was an understanding overlord and partially because she had an ulterior motive–after what had happened to the last batch of friends, Paloma was in desperate need of some replacements.

“Come here often? Y’know, it’s dangerous for such a cutie to be alone out here, even in broad daylight,” said Paloma, indicating with her eyes that she was trying to move away from the Hollow. “Walk you home?”

Paloma began to move in the direction of Jungleland and stopped at the crosswalk. She turned around and looked to make sure that one, Vin was actually following her, and two, that nobody else from the Hollow was coming outside for a casual smoke and a naughty attempt at eavesdropping. Paloma turned to Vin when she verified both conditions, the red stop hand on the crosswalk signal turning into a little green person as she gave her new confidant a cheeky little smile.

“Can you keep a secret?” asked Paloma, lifting her hand to her corner of her mouth to whisper. “I never was Mr. Smith’s neighbor. Can you believe that hot idiot bought it?”

Vin let out a short, mocking laugh. They tilted their head away from Paloma to blow smoke into the air, before dropping the mostly done cigarette onto the ground and crushing it into the ground with the ball of their magical girl heels. ”Course, Marco's all book smart, he ain't street smart. He'd believe anythin'.”

Of course, Marco probably hadn't believed it, but Vin was happy to throw their fellow gang member under the bus for the moment. He had pissed them off a little. Thankfully Paloma seemed to live in the same initial direction as them. Not that they'd let her ‘walk them home', but it'd be annoying to have to go too far out of their way to find out what she had to say. The real reason she went to talk to Mr Smith.

”If I couldn't keep a secret I'd be dead,” Vin confirmed bluntly. It was true. Gideon didn't take well to members who spread Hollow secrets, and they'd seen what happened to those that did. It hadn't been pretty. At the time they had wished they were the one to torture them for it, though… ”And I ain't. So spit it out. What's the real reason you were there? I ain't buying the wrong place wrong time bullshit. I risked my life tryna subdue that thing rather than just fuckin' killing it.”

“I’m trying to find out some information about a kid. You know how I said I work in a hospital? I do actually, it’s just that I clean them,” said Paloma, her nose wrinkling. It wasn’t as if she found no satisfaction in her job, but there was still a small part of her that was ashamed of being nothing more than a cleaning lady. There were only so many times Paloma could hear someone else “oh” in disappointment when they found out the truth after assuming she was a nurse before becoming disappointed herself.

“It’s not hard work once you get used to the 3 B’s–that’s blood, bile, bowel movements, but it’s that secret fourth B, boredom, that’ll get ya. Same goes for the patients. Even the ones who have people come to visit are still pretty lonely most of the time, and most people rarely have visitors. Since I was usually done with my cleaning early, I got in the habit of chatting with the patients. I wasn’t supposed to–cleaning staff should be invisible–but they never told the admins. I’m good company,” bragged Paloma, spinning around and walking backwards as they crossed the street to look at Vin face to face. She held up one finger. “Plus, I told them that if anybody ratted me out that I had the keys and I’d sneak into their room and smother them with a pillow when they were asleep.”

“Just kidding! I didn’t have the keys…” muttered Paloma, spinning back around. “So one of the patients I was friendly with was this little girl. I felt really bad for her. She never had any visitors, and the floor I cleaned…um…it wasn’t a fun floor for a kid to be on. She, uh, she, um…”

Paloma stopped as she felt a crushing weight on her chest. She rubbed her forearms, winced, and then looked back at Vin with a forced smile.

“Anyway, she actually had one visitor. Somebody named David Smith. Turns out there’s, like, a million David Smith’s living in Cloverfield, and he might not even be from here. Might not even be his real name. Might not even be a guy. But I’m going to find him, because I–” Promised? Paloma grimaced. “Because I need to. May I have a cigarette?”

”Sure.” Vin pulled out another cigarette and handed it over surprisingly easily, lighting it on the way over. Their expression was one of muted disbelief. Was that really the reason? She'd pushed her way past Gideon's men- people everyone in the South knew were dangerous- to find a man some little girl had known.

Seemed ridiculous.

”Y’should consider a career change. We work with the three B’s too- but that fourth one's never a problem.” Vin's lips pulled back into a sharp toothed smile, before laughing. Of course there was no way someone like her could work for the Hollow. Too nice, not enough muscle. But they certainly didn't react badly to her just being a cleaner. Quite frankly, they didn't care and couldn't judge. They'd barely finished highschool. Their whole ‘career’ was beating people up.

They shoved one hand in their pocket as they considered the ‘revelation’ a bit more, staring at Paloma as they waited for her to keep walking. After all, they were basically walking her home at this point… until they had to go in different directions. ”So… you're telling me you got friendly with some little girl and you gotta find her one visitor. So what, I help you by going and beating up every David Smith in the city? I can do that real easy… but…”

Vin's eyes narrowed. ”Hate to break it to you, that was probably the right David. Who'd visit a girl like that? A relative, or a teacher- which he was. Unless this is some kinda revenge thing and the guy you're lookin' for is a pedophile… which’d explain the secrecy. Cause I ain't sure I believe you'd put yourself in danger like that hunting for some sick girl’s visitor.”

“It’s not some revenge thing, and I didn’t put myself in danger,” said Paloma briskly, blowing out a sigh of smoke. The cigarette was the most dangerous thing she’d done all day. A coma had been a good way to go cold turkey. She turned to continue on, hiding the look of concern on her face that Vin was right. Maybe she would have to go about learning Room 513’s identity another way. Hopefully, Vin's offer to beat people up extended beyond those named David Smith.

“Why’d you put yourself in danger? Does Gideon pay that well?” asked Paloma, tilting her head towards Vin. “Or is what people say about him true? Blink twice if you need me to rescue you.”

Vin snorted, managing to stare unblinkingly at Paloma for longer than should be possible. ”Everything they say is true… And he pays that well. Far better than most would pay a violent highschool dropout.”

They weren't too bothered about sharing that. It wasn't exactly an uncommon story in the South Side. They were just lucky to have enough magical talent that Gideon saw something in them a few years ago. Otherwise, they'd be as dead as everyone else who committed crimes on his territory. Now they made far more money than they had stealing people's wallets after beating them into the ground. More than enough they could live in a nicer area… if they didn't have a young niece and a compulsive spender sister.

”I enjoy it. Nothin' feels better than getting rid of somethin' that could kill you,” Vin shrugged, very casually saying that they got a thrill from the near death fights. Though today had been a little too close. ”But this ain't about me. What're you gonna do when find the right fuckin' David- if it wasn't the one that's already dead? Whatever questions you got you're gonna have to ask in front of me, so may as well spit ‘em out now.”

“I’ll ask him if he knows the girl’s name, and where she lived, and if she had family. Maybe he’ll know where they buried her if he’s a relative. I’ll ask him if the Grove was just some silly thing made up by a sick child,” said Paloma. “My turn, tiger. You ever get rid of something other than those Apparition things?”

The look in Paloma’s eyes wasn’t of judgment but curiosity. “You know what I mean. What’s it like?”

The Grove? That seemed vaguely familiar? Was it a coven? No, if Paloma said it was something made up by a child… that must be it! It was in one of those picture books they'd read to Luciana. It was a shame Paloma wanted to know other things about the kid, otherwise Vin could've just found it and shown her that it was something made up. But it was fine, so long as they got some fights out of the deal.

”Why, wanna try your hand at it?” Vin taunted, raising their hand. Though they'd been magically healed, the Doppelgangers blood was still stubbornly underneath their nails. ”I’ve gotten rid of plenty… The boss says kill, I kill. It's work. The fight is thrilling, you get over the death after the first few times. It's different when it's not work.”

They tilted their head, trying to remember the first person they killed without an order. Ah, yes. The piece of shit that abandoned their pregnant sister. Their lips curved into a menacing smile. ”Now that's fun. Especially when they beg for mercy. You're in complete control.”

Perhaps it was dangerous to be so open with a stranger. But Vin knew they were safe. The police couldn't touch the Hollow, and it was her word versus there's. ”I’ve never killed someone that wasn't a piece of shit.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?” asked Paloma. It might've been an accusation that implied she believed Vin was secretly guilt ridden, but Paloma looked almost as amused.

”No, it’s what I tell others to make ‘em feel a lil less terrified around me,” Vin laughed. While they’d never chosen to kill someone who hadn’t already hurt someone- namely Loni- it didn’t mean they hadn’t killed ‘innocent’ people for Gideon. They didn’t care. Anyone who wasn’t their family- Loni, Luciana and the Hollow- didn’t matter. Their lives were worthless. ”It ain’t fun if they get all nervous… I’ll give you that. You’re annoyin’ as fuck, but you ain’t a coward.”

“Thank you?” said Paloma.

She was uncertain if it was actually a compliment and definitely certain that Vin was incorrect. Paloma was actually a coward. She just had other things to be afraid of these days then thugs and monsters. Paloma crushed the cigarette under her shoe and gave Vin a discerning look. It was rare for an actual killer to admit to it, or at least Paloma assumed it was. What wasn't so rare was a young gangster trying to act more dangerous than they actually were.

“It must be nice not having to deal with the guilt. I still lose sleep over small little things I've done years ago to total strangers. It's part of the reason I started working nights. If I'm not gonna sleep then I might as well make some money,” said Paloma.

”Just care less,” Vin responded bluntly, as if that would easily solve all of Paloma’s problems. Of course, they didn’t know what those problems were. Didn’t care either. What was so bad she was losing sleep? There had been her scars. That would be kind of reasonable. Not that they cared. ”Fuck anyone you ain’t close to. It’s freeing.”

They frowned, looking to the left. They were getting to a crossroads… and he didn’t imagine she’d be turning into the rougher areas. ”Anythin’ else I gotta know, besides beating up every David Smith in the city?”

The unlikely duo paused at the edge of the sidewalk, clearly about to go their separate ways. Someone who was on Gideon’s payroll definitely wouldn’t live on some shithole block. Was there anything else Paloma needed to tell Vin? The responsible thing might be to mention that if they ever ran into a weird doppelganger again that Vin wouldn’t have to worry about protecting Paloma so that they could avoid another Caleb situation. Vin could’ve died, too. Paloma would feel horrible if something happened to her shiny new toy before she got to play with it. Then again, she could always just follow Vin’s advice: just care less. She was just scared of what that person would be like. She already cared so little.

Paloma made a face as if she was in deep contemplation, and then gestured at Vin from top to bottom.

“Only that maybe y’should consider a career change if you ever get tired of whacking people. This is a great look for you already, but I mean, this outfit on a big, buff catgirl? Me~ow. You’d make a killing in the niche fetish market,” teased Paloma as she stuck out her tongue. “See you around, tiger.”

The red hand turned into a green man and Paloma stepped off the curb. It was the last crossing signal that worked before one descended into Jungleland, not that anybody would have respected them if they had been fixed inside that particular neck of the South Side. Assumptions were made quickly about those who stood still on a corner and accusations were thrown fast about encroaching on someone else’s territory. Streets over here were scurried across with hardly a glance out for traffic, because roadkill had better opportunities in life then those stuck in Jungleland and most cars drove through the pot-holed ridden streets so recklessly in their rush to get out the jaywalker wouldn’t even see them coming.

“Oh, awk-warrrrd,” said Paloma with a light laugh as she noticed that Vin was still heading in the same direction as her. “Isn’t it just the worst when this happens?”

”It is.” Vin narrowed their eyes at Paloma, looking a bit irritated. So she lived in Jungleland too… annoying for her to be so close, but the destitute area had plenty of apartment blocks. It needed to when it fit most of the city's poorest. Living in this shithole was the only reason Vin could afford an apartment big enough for three on their paycheck… because they couldn't depend on Loni to remember to contribute. It was just easier to cover shit themselves and ask her for bill money after…

Not wanting to spend any more time with Paloma than necessary, or risk more talking- especially after that fetish comment- Vin pushed forward onto the ‘main’ road in Jungleland. It was only the main road because it cut through the middle of the area, and occasionally people not from there had to drive through it. It wasn't like it had any less potholes. They had to turn off it quite early, into the more winding, narrow streets that made up the majority of the district.

But only a few steps down they got the creeping feeling of someone's eyes on their back. Not any of the junkies lying in various side alleys or right on the sidewalk. They looked at them in a way that Vin barely felt. Not a threat.

They stopped, turning around to see Paloma following them. No… Going in the same direction. What a fucking pain. Surely it wouldn't be for much longer. Hopefully she lived not far into this street… and not near them. ”Wow. You go down here and haven't been stabbed yet?”

“Oh, please,” said Paloma, rushing to catch back up. “Who would want to stab me? Everybody knows that nobody around here has anything worth taking. It’s the guys in white vans you gotta worry about.” The heads of the junkies turned as she passed. One lifted their hand up as if to beg, but gave her a friendly, toothless wave instead. Paloma turned sharply on her heels as she overtook Vin.

“I lived here just about my whole life. Trouble can’t catch you if you don’t slow down for it.” Paloma turned sharply around the corner, her head popping out from behind the brownstone. “Okay, later for real!”

Vin would have a moment of peace to walk alone until they rounded the block as an unimposing figure leapt out of an alleyway. “Are you stalking me?”

Vin's immediate reaction at getting jumped was to swing. Their clenched fist shot right for Paloma's face. But as it got near it was like an invisible force pushed them, shifting their body and fist so it slammed into the wall beside her. Bang! A dent was left behind where Vin had punched. They pulled their fist back, knuckles scraped and lightly bleeding, without even a grimace.

”I see… That's why you weren't scared.” They stared down at Paloma with dark eyes, swirling depths of Apathy. A fizzle of Black Lux, before it was gone. ”I ain't stalkin' you, you ain't worth the effort. Your lil ghost almost is… Maybe in a few years.”

Paloma had flinched despite knowing that the punch wouldn’t connect, throwing up her arms to cover herself. She lowered her hands, unable to hold back a little smirk as she said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Sorry for scaring you. Are you hurt? Want me to kiss your boo-boo?”

”Do I look hurt,” Vin rolled their eyes. Their scraped hand moved up towards Paloma in a sharp movement, as if they were about to slap her. Instead it got redirected again and hit into their own leg. Satisfied with the test, they shoved their hands into their pockets. ”Keep your lips away from me… I know you’ve been strugglin’ to hold back since you saw me.”

They pushed past Paloma, avoiding actually touching her and thus getting redirected. The sooner they got home the sooner they got away from her… But as they continued, they could sense they were being followed. The whole time. Closer and closer to Evergreen Apartment Complex.

Vin stopped again, spinning around and pointing a finger at Paloma. ”Now you’re the one followin’ me. Quit it. I know you’ve been tryna flirt with me, but I ain’t leadin’ you back to my home.”

“In spite of all of my swagger and charm? I see, you’re one of those take-me-out-to-dinner-first types. I can respect that,” said Paloma, pretending to look disappointed. “But I’m not following you, I’m trying to keep up with you but you're just walking too fast. It’s like you’re running away from me. I think it’s nice to have the company, don’t you?”

Paloma didn’t give Vin a chance to answer. She had only known them for a few hours but she was pretty sure she could guess what Vin would’ve said. “Besides you’re nearly done with me. I live there.”

She pointed to a large apartment building at the end of the block, trash piling up outside of a courtyard below basketball shoes chucked over telephone lines. Bars blocked the windows all around the first floor of the building and an old man in a bathrobe was having some kind of philosophical debate with a graffitied rocking horse attached to a rusty spring, the last usable part of what had once been a pretty sick playground. Its bones still littered the courtyard: broken chains hanging from what had once been a swing set that clacked together noisily like a ghetto wind chime whenever it was breezy, the jungle gym burnt down in some kind of fire leaving behind nothing but a crisp steel frame, a pole that had once supported the basketball hop now fallen over and caught up a chain link fence.

Someone had finally broken off that round spinning thing designed to make children throw up from its base and had flipped it over, converting the playground equipment into a rusty table. That was good. It’d be nice to have somewhere to picnic when the weather was warmer. Paloma drifted past Vin with her hands held behind her back, humming a little melody to herself. She was happy to be home. Her feet were absolutely killing her. She should’ve asked Vin to carry her piggyback style–or maybe have actually used Marco’s money and cut down some of the walking with a cab ride. She turned slowly back towards Vin, unable to resist the temptation to provoke her one more time.

“You know, I’m actually pretty handy in the kitchen. I could maybe make us a din–what? What’s wrong?” asked Paloma as she caught Vin’s troubled expression. “Are you actually hurt? I have painkillers inside. Good ones, too.”

Vin wished it was that they were actually hurt. Maybe they should just say they were, go into Paloma's apartment and then pretend they lived in a different building. Would that work? It'd be easier to just pretend that right now. But what if they bumped into her in the future. Or she bumped into Loni?!

”I live here.” They went with the blunt truth. Lying had never been their strong suit. They relied on intimidation and brute strength to get rid of people… neither of which worked on her. It was like they'd met their match- their sickly sweet, irritating match. They had a sinking feeling they were going to be seeing an awful lot more of her.

As if to prove their point, they pulled out their keys - not that it was necessary for the exterior door. The lock had been broken for almost ten years. They remembered exactly when it happened, cause they'd been the one to break it. Of course, no adults had known at the time. They'd threatened all the other kids in their group at the time. It wasn't their fault it couldn't take more than a few kicks…

”I ain't comin' round for food. I ain't comin' round at all. We’re gonna pretend we don't live in the same fuckin' block.” Vin grunted, while holding open the door for Paloma like they were an absolute gentleman rather than just trying to make sure she went up the stairs first and didn't follow them all the way to their apartment. ”We ain't becomin' friendly neighbours or some shit. Not that you're findin' out what floor I'm on.”

“Okay, okay. I think I can take the hint,” said Paloma, her shoulders sinking as she sulked up the steps. Clearly all of this was a sign from fate that they were meant to be friends, but Vin didn’t seem to feel the same way. Not yet anyway, and there was nothing Paloma could do to change that. At least, nothing she was willing to do. “Sheesh, I was just playing around anyway. Later, tiger.”

Paloma climbed the six flights of steps up to the top floor, glaring at the elevator that had been out-of-order for three years and counting. She let out a little groan as she noticed the metal door leading into her apartment hall was closed, the wedge that kept the door from closing kicked to the side. Like the front door and the elevator, this door was broken too, making it impossible to open up from the stairwell when it was closed. She tested it anyway. Maybe they’d finally fixed it? Nope. She didn’t even try banging on it. Nobody ever responded despite how annoying of a sound it made. She’d just have to wait until someone left. Paloma sat down on the top of the landing, rested her elbows on her knees, and propped up her chin.

“Well, well, well. Look, it’s not what you think, so don’t even start,” said Paloma as Vin appeared on the flight below her. She popped her thumb out towards the door and then patted the spot on the step next to her. “We’re locked out. Might as well get cozy.”

Vin just stared at her for a moment with a hint of exhaustion. Of course she lived on the same floor as them. They were only thankful they hadn't bumped into each other before now… or perhaps they had, and Vin had ignored her. Didn't matter.

Either way, they weren't getting stuck out here until one of the lazy assholes still in their apartment decided to drag their sorry ass outside. ”Ugh. No thanks.”

They walked up the last few steps, boots stamping right past where Paloma had patted. Then their jacket was discarded on the ground next to them. Thankfully it had been long enough they could feel the Lux pumping through their veins again. Cracks echoed through the dim stairwell as their legs grew and transformed. Striped fur once again covered their more overtly muscular arms. The magical girl outfit grew enough to not rip, but ended up looking more like a crop top and miniskirt combination. Their tail awkwardly flicked around underneath the bright pink skirt.

CRASH.

A single foot kicked through the door. It had swung wide open, a large dent in the metal causing it to crumple into itself. There was no risk of it locking closed anymore… because there was no way it could properly shut. Vin lowered their leg, quickly returning to their normal form. They turned, still sharp teeth grinning at Paloma.

”No need to thank me.” They gestured towards the crumpled door with their head. They were incredibly pleased with their work… and finally having an excuse to destroy the door their sister had been locked outside multiple times. ”Looks better like this, don't it? Y'know they fixed it four years back, then it broke again within the month.”

“All I know is that we found it like this if anyone asks,” said Paloma with a wink, handing Vin their jacket. Paloma put her hand on the ruined door and mimed as if she were holding it open for Vin, gesturing broadly with a slight bow. “After you, sir. It doesn’t matter if I know where you live now because at this rate I’m fairly certain that we’ve secretly been roommates without realizing it for years. At least I finally now know who keeps nibbling on all the things in my pantry. I was worried there was a mouse.”

Vin actually laughed at that, pulling their jacket back on to cover up the awful magical girl outfit. Paloma was strange. Incredibly irritating when acting sickly sweet, but not so awful when talking like this. ”Unless you're aboutta peel off your skin and reveal you've been my sister all along, we ain't. Mice might've been ours tho- I scared a bunch've em outta our place a while back. I s'pose I can give you some of my fur if you want rid of 'em too.”

They sauntered down the corridor all the way to the other end. The apartments down there were slightly bigger - two bedrooms, that was. A ‘luxury’ they'd been able to afford thanks to the Hollow money, going from the smaller one they'd grown up in to this one when Loni moved back in. As they pulled out their keys, they turned to look back at Paloma.

”I’ll see ya when you next need someone beat up, neighbour.”

“Well, the people in 603 can be a bit noisy sometimes, so…” Paloma chuckled as she leaned out of her doorway. “Later, Vin.”

There would be a rapid knock on Vin’s door only a few minutes later, but there was nobody in the hall. Instead there was a cheap piece of tupperware sitting on the floor outside the door. Crammed inside of it were five of the half-dozen pink cupcakes Paloma had leftover for herself, each topped individually with strawberries freshly carved to look like little hearts that bleed into the icing. A single index card rested on top of the tupperware was folded in half and addressed to Vin in swirling handwriting, a heart dotting the I in their name. On the inside of the handmade card were just two words: Thank You.