Atrophy

Recollections: Who Is Eleanor Black [CANCELLED]

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Interactions: Olivia (@NoriWasHere)

The Webb Family Coffee House

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“It’s death.”

“Right, sorry. Stupid question,” muttered Neko.

For a moment, Neko thought that Jen was teasing her. She cupped her hand over her mouth, a consummate professional when it came to hiding disapproval, and nodded sagely—yeah, she fucking got that skulls symbolized death, kinda the whole reason she’d asked. It was only as Jen continued that Neko’s hand dropped, her dumbfounded expression too strong to be hidden behind a palm. She sunk back into her seat, her eyelids blinking rapidly in bewilderment. Haunted? Cursed? Sure, Jen was right: curses weren’t real, swamps were just scary.

She heard a shriek from down the hall. Full sprint, slam open the door, flip the switch. Her little girl is pointing at a blanket draped over a rocking chair, screaming her throat bloody: Swamp Grandma, Swamp Grandma!

Neko shook away the memory, reached for her drink, and realized she’d left it at her old table. She got back up and grabbed it, but her legs were too jittery to sit back down. She nervously paced behind the others, trying her best not to trip over the latecomers, and chewing upon the straw but never actually taking a sip. How old had Nora been when she’d started babbling about Swamp Grandmas and Swamptowns—two, maybe three tops? How’d her kid hear about this shit? The straw was in her hand now, her finger tapping droplets of cold brew on the floor like she was ashing a cigarette, her stressed mind fighting the urge to take a step outside.

“...group of five girls that went missing last night…I would be very careful around her. Don’t trust her…if something doesn’t feel right, just leave…stay safe…”

Naturally, Neko had been worried that her daughter was in danger. Now, as Jen hammered it in, Neko realized for the first time that by looking for her daughter she might be putting herself into danger. Fear wasn’t an uncommon feeling to her—she felt it when she walked the parking lot alone at night after work, or when she met for drinks with some random dude from a dating app, or even when she got up on a stage to perform. Hell, she felt like she was in danger almost every second of every minute. However, there was a difference between feeling like she was in it and actually being in it. It was just a difference that didn’t matter once her daughter was involved.

The group was rapidly splitting up amongst themselves and Neko began to feel the creeping dread she used to feel back in gym class when teams were drafting players for dodgeball. Neko wanted to go with the ladies to directly confront Mary-Louise, but she knew she was no actress and would immediately blow any kind of cover they’d adopted. She would’ve immediately tagged along with Charlie as an excuse to get to know her “granddaughter” (although really it was mostly out of fear of letting her wander around alone), but Charlie had a plan and Neko would only get in the way of that plan.

Plus, Charlie had Carl and Lily there to watch her back and there was another person in the group that Neko didn’t want wandering around all on her own. The mother found herself sliding into an evacuated seat near Olivia. She disposed of the straw she’d viciously shredded by jamming it under the lid of her cold brew. She offered Olivia a slight smile.

“Just between you and me, I have a good feeling that the butler clearly did it,” said Neko with a mocking eye roll that she hoped read as ‘I get it, splitting up is stupid but let’s do it anyway’ and not ‘I get it, I look like I desperately need the approval of a teenage girl’. Her gaze lingered on Olivia’s notes before looking back up.

“Still, I was thinking about going to talk with him since nobody else offered. It’d be nice if there was someone there who could take some notes,” said Neko, and then immediately she began backpedaling with a wave of her hands. “Not that you have to do what I say. I’m not trying to—I mean, you’re your own—what I’m saying is—um, what do you think we should do?”

Recollections: Who Is Eleanor Black [CANCELLED]

<Snipped quote by Atrophy>

I'll eat your ass

@Punished GN

In 2014? Damn bro that was something we didn't do back then.

Recollections: Who Is Eleanor Black [CANCELLED]

Can we post in the OOC if we act like it's still 2014?

Recollections: Who Is Eleanor Black [CANCELLED]

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The Webb Family Coffee House

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Introductions continued to go around the table. Neko gave Harmony a small nod of appreciation for her support, a nod that stiffened as the woman produced the chip and elicited memories of another woman that Neko did not want to think about. Neko slipped out an involuntarily dirty look, one that hopefully had gone by unnoticed with the arrival of Ophrenia. A nervous smile had wormed its way back onto Neko’s face when a slice of pie was offered her way. She lightly waved it away, mouthing a no thank you and noting that Ophrenia didn’t share how she knew Eleanor—but she had shared more than the silent stranger who’d loudly crashed down into a chair.

The rest of the group were more forthcoming with their answers. She was thankful that Charlie and Harmony had already established that it was impossible for her Nora to also be their Eleanor or otherwise Neko would’ve leapt the table when Gene mentioned he’d dated Eleanor for six years (Jordan, if he’d been stupid enough to even chime in after, would get his too). Instead, she simply returned the look of sympathy. He was right. He hadn’t lost family or a support system—it sounded like he’d lost both.

With nearly a dozen people bringing up nearly a dozen different Eleanors, Neko was beginning to have difficulty keeping track. She was tempted to ask Olivia if she could borrow her notes before Jasmine chimed in and succinctly summarized everyone’s relationships. Neko knew she’d still need the notes at some point, but for now didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of the “star” player. Neko attempted to think of a solution to the riddle, her hand idly massaging her temple.

Nothing she came up with worked out with the exception of three thoughts. One: This was an elaborate and cruel prank being played exclusively against her, unfathomable in its meanness and lack of purpose. Two: She was delusional and caught in a terrifying state where she was aware enough to know that such a reality was possible but unable to remove herself from such a thing. Three: Something bad was happening, the kind that sensible adults could never admit outloud to existing, the kind that logic couldn’t explain. A chill ran down her spine despite the hot swamp air flowing in through the open window.

Neko simply had to be missing something. She was thankful when Jen spoke up. Jasmine prodding at their quiet interloper made Neko feel uncomfortable. She gave room for the called out woman to reply before addressing Jen.

“I can’t think of anything better. They couldn’t ignore such a big group,” said Neko, standing up to get a better view of the map. She leaned over and furrowed her brow, jamming her finger at the skull. “But Jen? I'm sorry, what’s that?”

Recollections: Who Is Eleanor Black [CANCELLED]

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A Distant Memory?

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“Mommy, there’s a monster in my closet.”

A bleary eyed woman opened her eyes to a darkened room, the fuzzy shape of a childlike figure staring back at her. The voice was girlish but the words came out wrong, sounding more like a bored adult than a frightened child. Slowly Neko sat up in her bed. Her head hummed with a pain so sickening that she felt like she must’ve woken up in that treacherous time of night where the empty joys of drunkenness sharply accepted the harsh realities of a hangover. However, it was the eye-watering stench that made her clap a hand to her mouth and gag, just barely managing to hold the reflex at bay before the smell disappeared. Her hand reached out and brushed the alarm clock, causing it to illuminate the time: three in the morning. The light was blinding.

“Come here, sweetie,” said Neko as she slid. Her daughter slipped under the sheets and pressed herself against Neko as Neko drew her into a comforting hug, closed her eyes, and laid back down. “You just had a nightmare. You know there’s no such thing as monsters.”

“I know…” said the little voice. The room became silent except for Neko’s restful, deep breathing as she began to fall back to sleep. Then—

“Mommy, I guess there’s a person in my closet.”

Neko’s eyes shot open as her veins froze solid, the hairs on her arm bolting up just as fast as she did. She heard a loud bump. Logic would argue that it could’ve just been a neighbor stomping around upstairs or a car door slamming shut on the street, but she knew it came from her daughter’s room. A home invader? She sat unmoving for what felt like minutes, her eyes staring at her open bedroom door, failing to adjust to the murky blackness that laid outside of it.

Slowly she crept out of her bed, whispering to her daughter to stay put, and grabbed her keys from her purse that she’d dropped on the floor, unfolding the small knife she kept on her keychain. Neko became hyper aware of her surroundings. She could feel every floorboard beginning to groan as she put the weight of her foot down, she could hear her heart thumping in her chest, she could sense every second passing by, each one feeling like its own eon. The creaking of her daughter’s door might as well have been an explosion unearthing a tomb with how loud it was. Neko paused, her eyes unflinching from the slightly ajar closet door, and waited. Nothing happened, so she made the first move and leaped for the closet door and tore it open.

She screamed and dropped the knife, catching the convulsing body of her daughter Nora, no more a child but a seventeen-year-old girl, her mouth foaming red and choking, her face contorted and purpled, her eyes bulging in panic. Nora’s hands were tightly clawed around her own throat, blood bubbling between her fingers, choking to death. Neko tried to pull them away, but she couldn’t break Nora’s grip. She tried to call for help but her voice broke. She was powerless to do anything but watch as her daughter’s body jerked and twisted.

“Mommy,” snarled the little voice from behind her, no longer so little. She could feel its presence looming over her. She winced as its claws digged into her shoulders. She caught the outline of its toothy maw in her peripherals as it hissed. “You cannot save her.”

“I’m sorry?” said Neko groggily as she was awoken, the wrinkled hand of an old woman dressed in the uniform of a flight attendant shaking her shoulder, the morbid scene unfolding in her daughter’s room transforming into the mundane airplane cabin of a budget flight.

“I said you cannot sleep here, ma’am,” said the old lady, roughly shoving Neko’s carryon at her. “We need to prepare for the next flight. Welcome to Louisiana. Now scoot it.”

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The Webb Family Coffee House

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Between her inflight nightmare and the creep factor of driving through backwater roads, Neko was already a bundle of high-strung nerves when she arrived in Quintin. The last thing she needed was to introduce caffeine into her already anxious state of existence, a thought she reminded of herself as she shakily wiped away the sweat on the outside of the plastic cup of her second iced coffee. The Webb Family Coffee House, unlike Quintin that triggered all of the city girl’s small town fears, was cute and reminiscent of the kind of places she would perform in.

Technically, she was putting on a performance right now, although one of a different variety. Neko fancied herself a musician after all, not an actress—that was more of her daughter’s thing. Still, it didn’t mean that Neko wasn't currently acting like a calm and collected adult fully capable of keeping her shit together. She’d even worn a button-up blouse with a collar, the pinnacle marking of maturity and responsibility if there ever was one. The heart-print design of the red and white shirt even unintentionally matched the heart-shaped locket hung around Neko’s neck.

Neko didn’t immediately sit at the table marked reserved out of her own reservations. Instead, she took a table in the corner, close enough to eavesdrop, but far enough to not make it look like it had been chosen precisely for that reason. She’d experienced enough catfishing in her days of online dating to know that it was smart to give herself some plausible deniability if the person who showed up didn’t look like the person in the photo. If things seemed too sketchy, she could just slip away silently. Plus, there was the nagging feeling that all of this was an actual delusion and she didn’t want to risk crashing some old lady book club.

Neko even remained separate when the familiar face of Jennifer Caspin arrived, only turning her chair ever so slightly to face the group when they started to talk. Neko felt her chest tighten and her eyes well up as the first girl introduced herself as Eleanor Black’s daughter. A weird cocktail of pride and confusion swirled around inside of Neko. Did this make her Charlie’s grandmother? And how was her daughter younger than Charlie? No, it was just simply impossible for them to be the same Eleanor. So then a bunch of separate Eleanor Blacks came from Quintin then? Judging by the amount of people gathered around the table, that also seemed ridiculous.

“What was she like?” blurted out Neko, knocking over her chair as she stood up—goodbye calm and collected. She didn’t care anymore. Part of her wanted to test and see if their Eleanors were the same; another part believed it to be true already and wanted to know that her daughter made a good mother.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just—” Happy that she’s not crazy? She awkwardly picked up her fallen chair and dragged it over to the table, leaving her drink behind. Neko nudged her way in to sit next to Charlie. “I’m just getting ahead of myself.”

“I’m Neko, um, Neko Carbella. I’m from New Jersey and I’m Eleanor Black’s mother?” said Neko with a nervous, uncertain laugh followed by a heavy exhale and a fanning of herself with her hands. “Holy shit, this is crazy, okay. My Eleanor goes by Nora, she is seventeen, a little shorter than me, long black hair, a little too skinny, way too smart for her own good, like how? Very creative, absolutely obsessed with musical theater which is,” Neko cleared her throat, “y’know, her thing.”

“She was distant sometimes. Like now, I guess!” said Neko, smiling awkwardly at her tasteless joke. The smile dropped and she stared down at her hands fidgeting in her lap, quietly muttering, “Very, very distant…”

She closed her eyes and shuddered, seeing the image of her daughter clawing at her own throat.

“Sorry, I’ll shut up.”

Recollections: Who Is Eleanor Black [CANCELLED]

Neko Carbella

"Please, I can handle anything. I'm definitely not making all of this up on the go."

_______________________________________________ Neko Kari Carbella She/Her | 35 | Italian American | 5’7” | 140 lbs _______________________________________________ Overwhelmed _______________________________________________ Skills & Talents "Work-life balance?" ___________________________________ [+] ["Mom Shit"] ⫻ Neko is a single mother first and foremost. She is a self-proclaimed master of the three C’s: cooking crappy off-brand macaroni and cheese until it’s only slightly burnt, cleaning up enough of the shit cramping her small apartment so that there’s technically living space, and crying with the shower on so that the kid doesn’t hear. Random boo-boo? No problem. Torn skirt? Easy enough. Another stupid ass musical ruining her Friday night plans? Sure, her FWB would totally love to see kids stumble through the Music Man. Okay, so maybe she isn’t admittedly the best at mom shit, but she tries. She really tries. [Singer-Songwriter] ⫻ Neko’s second biggest passion is chasing the ever fleeting dream of becoming a professional musician. She’s honestly pretty good, with a strong voice, even stronger piano skills, and passable enough with an acoustic guitar that she can hold her own at a weekend coffee house show. The reality of having bills to pay and a child to take care of made her have to put the career on the backburner for more regular work, but she still gets the occasional paying gig. [Serving] ⫻ Neko wants to punch whichever one of her friends lied to her and said being a server was easy, but she can’t deny that the high stress of the job aligns itself perfectly with her typical energy and that the tips keeps her afloat. Plus, it has helped her perfect the ability to keep a fake smile plastered on her face, to tolerate assholes who really should never be let out of their homes, and to get used to disappointment every time she opens the bill booklet. [Thrifting] ⫻ Frugality is an artform.

Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Just keep your head up and smile." Neko Carbella is composed almost entirely out of nervous laughter, wringing hands, and forced smiles. For someone who is at her happiest when performing for others, offstage she seems to have an almost uncontrollable gravitational pull towards the back of crowds or lonely corners. However, she always tries her best to appear warm and welcoming whenever she interacts with another person, but can never quite hide the stress she has shallowly buried beneath the surface. Neko has a long, narrow face that she’d define as horselike, dark brown eyes that she’d refer to as boring, and a large, toothy smile that she would say is embarrassingly big. Her long brown hair is straight and defaults to two simple styles: up in a ponytail for work or down and constantly being brushed out of her face. Her work requires her to constantly be on her feet and hustling back and forth so she stays in a decent shape, but a poor diet that largely consists of three to four cigarettes a day, oversized cups of iced coffee, and the occasional guilty snack from her favorite cupcake place prevents her from actually being healthy. Her style is thrift store chic coupled with DIY sensibilities, ranging from mom jeans with a tie-dyed Mickey Mouse shirt and white sneakers to a patterned dress combined with an oversized tweed jacket and combat boots. Despite her best efforts her appearance often looks rushed, as if she just pulled the clothes out of the drying machine and did her makeup in a car mirror, but while her clothes are clearly old never are they dirty.

_{Psychology
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"Ha ha, what? Everything’s fine. I’m fine.”

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Neko’s goal is to raise her daughter well and give her a good life. She’s critically failed to realize that to give someone something that first she must possess it herself.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Life is chaotic and the only thing she can be certain of is entropy. Nobody actually knows what it is that they’re doing. As children they play dress up and make believe, as adults they still do the same—they just refuse to admit that they're pretending. Neko is playing her part too, but she isn’t afraid to admit her ignorance. Neko will do what she feels is right, try not to be controlling of others, and oppose just about any authority figure who say they know what they’re doing.

SECRETS ⫻ Neko claims she was disowned by her parents and always told her daughter that they were dead, but in reality Neko was the one who cut off contact with her parents. She continues to refuse to speak to them to this day, despite her parents making a number of attempts to reconnect.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Neko is straight.

FEARS ⫻ Her biggest fear is that something bad has happened to her daughter. Neko’s second biggest fear is that she has lost her mind. Her third biggest fear is failure, something that is frustratingly familiar in her life.

WHO IS ELEANOR BLACK TO YOU? ⫻ She was Nora, Neko’s seventeen-year-old daughter, born Eleanor Francis Black.

FLAWS ⫻ Neko is a disorganized, nervous wreck. She lives her life in a persistent state of emergency,going from one crisis to another without ever taking a break or considering that the source of most of her problems might be from overextending herself. She calls herself an improviser. Anyone a little less scattered would call her impulsive.

_{Backstory
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"At some point it stops being about you."

Neko does not fondly look back on her childhood. She was born in Trenton, New Jersey to a down-on-his-luck father, a contractor who was more often between jobs than working one, and hairstylist mother who was never afraid to voice her disappointment and only ever took the cigarette out of her mouth to gulp down her boxed wine. They grew up poor, a fact her mother constantly reminded their family about. It was almost never just the four of them in the house. There was always some distant family member, or friend of the family, or friend of a friend, or sometimes a grabbag of all the different flavors staying in the house with them. Her home was chaotic, uncomfortably cramped, and downright scary when her mom kicked off a shouting match that resulted in something breaking, someone being thrown out, and some neighbor calling the cops.

Her older sister Fran seemed to have a sixth sense for where the energy in the house was shifting. When they were younger she’d just put headphones over Neko’s ears and play her something from her extensive collection of CDs. When Fran got old enough she’d steal their mom’s keys and sneak the two of them out the back, driving out to the shore during the day or just hanging out in the parking lot of a McDonald’s at night. It was during one of these escapes with Fran that Neko ended up meeting the people with whom she’d eventually start a band.

Neko told Fran she’d be fine when her sister went off to college; what she didn’t tell Fran was her plan to essentially become transient. She lived on the couches and the floors of bandmates and friends she made in her town’s crappy little music scene, going home only for clothes and to hear her mother yell at her. She dropped out of school so she could work a part-time job in the morning while leaving her evenings free for practice. She found a venue, she booked the gig, she drew up posters and stapled them on telephone poles around town. Her drummer, her bassist, and her guitarist took until the day of the show to tell her that they were out—playing in a basement was cool, but an actual audience was too much. She performed anyway, her raw emotion making enough of an impact that the owners didn’t pull the plug on the failed show until after her third song. She cried in the alleyway after, and that’s where Anthony Black offered her a cigarette and said he liked her show. Love at first sight. They started dating.

Then Neko became pregnant at seventeen. At first Anthony seemed supportive, having Neko move in with him after finding out her situation, floating the idea of marriage, and defending Neko when her parents inevitably found out. They eloped when she turned eighteen, Anthony’s brother and Neko’s sister serving as the witnesses, and two months later Neko gave birth to Eleanor Francis Black. Neko took to calling her Nora. Nora was perfect, but things between Anthony and Neko soon were not. It felt to Neko that the moment Anthony saw their daughter something switched inside of him. He became cold and distant, often disappearing for days without contact.

When Nora turned two, Anthony told Neko he was tired of playing house and divorced her. Lawyer fees, custody rights, and child support were established, with Neko getting Nora a majority of the time and Anthony, or really Anthony’s mother who wanted to continue seeing her grandchild, getting Nora for summer breaks and the occasional holiday and weekend. Neko was gutted but had to keep strong for Nora. Thankfully, Fran gave her the power to do so. Fran, who’d just finished college and was working for a business in Newark, told Neko she was moving in with her. It wasn’t an offer.

The following few years were a tornado. Neko raised her daughter and worked her ass off. It became clear early on that Nora was an exceptionally bright and creative child, but there was something kind of…off? Often there were times with Nora when Neko felt like she was talking with an adult, and then a moment later it would feel like a child took back over and started talking about something ridiculous, like going to see “Swamp Grandma” in “Swamptown”. Honestly, the Grandma talk always creeped Neko out. Neko made sure that Nora didn’t see Neko’s mother, and Anthony’s mom was a New Yorker through and through. Neko wrote it off as a kid being an asshole, as even the best of kids often could be.

Eventually Neko got her own place to allow Fran room to grow her own family with her then-serious boyfriend and now-husband. With the help of some grants Neko was able to enroll Nora in a private school system. Neko worked multiple jobs, made side money by playing small shows or busking on the weekend, and essentially dedicated every aspect of her life to her daughter. So when a teenage Nora started being annoyed by the ever looming presence of her mother it hurt. For a time things were tense between the two, arguing more often than they talked when her daughter wasn’t outright avoiding her. Neko grew terrified that she’d push her daughter away just like her mother had with her so she relented, accepting the fact that just because her daughter was the most important thing in the world to her it did not mean that she would be the most important thing in the world to her daughter.

Eventually, the pain would subside into something else: relief. Her daughter was nearly an adult now. Was this not how things were supposed to go? Neko had raised her as well as she could. For the first time in her life, Neko felt like she was no longer overwhelmed, no longer drowning, not realizing that was only because the ocean had pulled back so it could slam her with a massive tidal wave and rip her kicking and screaming out to sea. It knocked Neko flat when Nora threw her a surprise party. Neko opened the door, clicked on the lights, and was greeted by a smiling teenage stranger surrounded by Neko’s close friends and family. “Happy Birthday, Mom!” shouted the stranger.

At first Neko took it as a bizarre prank started by some kind of social media trend. She played along for a bit but things began to escalate as nobody backed off on the bit. In fact, they all acted like they were confused when Neko began asking about when Nora was showing up. The awkwardness and tension came to a boiling point as Neko began getting visibly upset and confrontational with the stranger everyone else was pretending to be her daughter. The joke had gone too far—hell, they’d even put up fake photos around the house. Everything exploded when Fran pulled Neko into another room and asked her why the hell she was trying to creep out her daughter “Abby”, pushing Neko over the edge and rendering her a babbling, panicked madwoman.

Fran seeked out mental help for a sister that she thought had gone delusional. Neko was diagnosed with a rare psychiatric disorder where a person believes someone close to them has been replaced by an impostor called Capgras delusion, typically caused by either a brain injury or schizophrenia. Tests were done, therapy was held, medication was given. Neko knew she wasn’t crazy, but couldn’t bring herself to believe in some large spread conspiracy to completely gaslight her, so she went along with the psychiatric doctor's suggestions.

Once it became apparent that Neko wouldn’t harm herself or her daughter Abby she was prescribed antipsychotics and released. Fran, prompted by the doctor’s recommendation, offered to let Abby stay at her place while Neko got back on her feet. Neko agreed, still secretly refusing to believe that Abby was her daughter Nora but worried that expressing it would institutionalize her. Certainly it’d be deemed problematic if they’d caught her scouring the internet for records of her real daughter—but nowhere near as deeply disturbing as it was to Neko when she found something that shouldn’t be possible. Other people were looking for her daughter, or rather they were looking for a woman with the same name. It chilled her, but not as much as when someone posted about a place called Quintin, Louisiana—Swamptown.

“Swamp Grandma lives in Swamptown!” proudly echoed a child’s voice in the back of Neko’s head. There was a moment of hesitation, a creeping fear that Neko was feeding a delusion, and then a tough decision. If Neko was wrong, this would likely hurt her daughter but she would still be okay—Fran would protect her like she had Neko. But if Neko was right, something horrible had happened to Nora, something unnatural, and she could still be alive but be in danger. Neko couldn’t accept a reality where she didn’t try to save her daughter—or atleast find out what had happened to her. Neko joined the thread and shared her story: “I know this sounds crazy, but I am the mother of Eleanor Black…”

A short while later, Neko made her way down to Louisiana.

_{Paranormal Abilities
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"How can I handle this?"

She burnt sage before to “cleanse” a new apartment. Does that count?

^{Other
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"I feel like I’m drowning."

With help from the others, Neko was unable to find any records that show there to be a familial connection between her ex-husband Anthony Black and the Black family down in Louisiana. Given how a hard copy of Nora’s birth certificate was either replaced or perfectly altered to read another name, Neko has accepted the reality that a lack of a record does not necessarily prove anything.

Recollections: Magnanimous

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The Vanburen Estate

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Terror should’ve taken Tansy as the Triple Goddess took a step towards her with a hand outstretched, yet the sensation that shot through Tansy filled her with power and warmth. It was not unlike the moment at a fundraiser where she had to deliver a speech in front of a crowd of powerful business tycoons, who had to pretend for one evening that they were charitable souls instead of robber barons, and the room fell silent as all eyes turned on her. She, for that brief moment, was the most important person in the room—not the billionaires, not her father, and definitely not whatever group of sad sacks she pretended to have a bleeding heart for this time. Everyone had to listen to what she had to say and, if they were smart, they’d do what she said. It felt fucking fantastic.

Tansy did not hesitate. She reached for the Triple Goddess’s hand as if they were equals and felt the raw powerful essence radiating from her aura. Briefly, Tansy latched onto the feeling like a leech and drained it as she grabbed the seemingly alien creature’s hand, certain that the Goddess had just played into her own. Tansy had tricked a god. And she had also been mistaken. Tansy was not the Triple Goddess’s equal. She was the pathetic creature’s better, who was really no more than a sad shell of an icon whose influence spread no further than a few rejects who sacrificed goats and huffed glue in the woods. Tansy felt radiant.

Then, as she took one step back into the entrance of the manor, reality hit her as it always did—just a little too late. Just like the corporate execs midnight promises to leave their families and abscond with her to Tuscany would disapparate alongside the morning mist, so too did Tansy’s confidence vanish as she realized what she’d just done. She had succeeded in luring the Triple Goddess, but she’d fucked up and used herself as the bait. Not only had she drawn the attention of a dangerous monster and placed herself right beside it, she’d put those who might’ve been able to protect her on the other side of said monster.

“As you wish, my Goddess,” said Tansy as Dominion’s light waned as she drew further from Blu’s melody. The chorus of her voice stayed steady as she took a step back, her foot threatening to drift through Dominions halo but never quite reaching it as the light shifted back with her. Slightly louder, so those outside might hear, she added, “It is so refreshing to see one willing to do whatever it takes for their sibling. You set an example that others really must follow.”

Tansy planned to lead the Triple Goddess to the largest, most central room of the house, and hopefully the others would follow. According to their mysterious benefactor, the Goddess wouldn’t be as attune to her magic indoors. She didn’t know what was the more stupid thing about this plan: putting her faith in a skeleton in a cheap suit or putting it in her family. Step by step she would retreat with the Goddess until she had led her to the game room where one Christmas Tansy had cried in joy as James unveiled a ping pong table and, years later, would cry in private when none of the actual Vanburens would play it with her. It would be nice to see it one more time before the Triple Goddess wised up and crushed her skull.

Recollections: Magnanimous

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The Vanburen Estate

---

Ezra gave Thea a somber nod and his stomach tightened as she hinted at how they’d have to handle Morgana and Tegan. He’d offer them the same second chance he was willing to give to the other Wiccans; it would be on their conscience then when they picked to go with the rope instead. Loyalty and dedication were only impressive qualities when they weren’t tainted with fanatical stupidity.

"If you want my advice: either lure her into the manor or deeper into Araminta. Otherwise; you're all fighting an uphill battle," said a skeleton that casually sipped on a glass of tea. Ezra jumped as Justin asked the important question of who the fuck was that thing. The skeleton didn’t oblige an answer, instead informing them that the only true way to defeat the Triple Goddess would be to seal her inside of something. Excellent. Now how were they able to do that? Before Ezra could even ask the question the skeleton had vanished.

He followed the others through the mirror, but he did not join them outside. His spells were more useful when there was time for preparation and planning; jumping into the fray would just create one more obstacle his siblings would have to work around. Instead, he would be useful doing what Oscar said and finding something they could use to seal in the Goddess—and, hopefully, find an actual method on how to do it.

“Wait, Arabelle, it’d be best if you stay somewhere safe where you can keep an eye on the others if we need to fallback to the construction site. I’ll go,” said Ezra.

He didn’t wait for any affirmation as he began sprinting off through the labyrinthian halls of his home. If Arabelle wanted to it was likely she would be able to beat him to any room and back, but in the time of her absence the tide of the battle outside could’ve shifted dramatically against the Vanburens. The house shook violently as the Triple Goddess voice echoed throughout the halls and large objects shattered against the garage. His breath grew heavy as he ran down the hall towards the library, his feet pounding through the pool of dried blood from their confrontation with the Wiccans earlier that day. Hopefully the healer would use her talents to keep his siblings still standing while he searched. Nevertheless, he had to be lightning fast.

Ezra slammed through the door of the library and began his search.

Meanwhile, Tansy had hesitated with her hand on the edge of the portal as Trisha offered to stay behind at Shane’s suggestion and watch the decaying statue on the ground. Tansy turned back as if she had something to say before lowering her head and frowning at the dirited footprints on the ground. She swallowed hard and choked out, “Trisha, I…”

“Nevermind,” she sighed, shook her head, and stepped through the portal. What she stepped out into was immediate pandemonium: shouts of her siblings calling out to one another, the sound of gunshots ringing throughout the air, the crashing of ice like heavy hail upon the roof of the nearby garage. Tansy pressed forward through the foyer towards the front yard, her chest pounding as she crossed the threshold and beheld the Triple Goddess for the first time. Horrific and heavenly as it controlled the elements around them to form a kind of barrier, Tansy felt a swirl of jealousy stir from somewhere beyond her.

The feeling was immediately squashed as a car that had been flung through the air crashed to the ground with a sickeningly familiar sound of metal crunching against metal. Tansy froze as she looked at the wreckage and felt herself transported back. A dark silhouette turned to talk to the other, its voice drowned out by a harmony of singers chanting in an unknown language and the swishing sound of wiper blades. Beyond the window there was nothing but darkness beyond the flurries of snow. Then there was a light so bright that it blinded. The sound of screeching brakes hit too late. A chorus of screams. A crash. Cold air and warm blood. Two dark silhouettes unmoving. Another, just beyond the windshield, moving towards her, light radiating behind it.

Do not be afraid.

Tansy snapped out of the nightmare and back to her nightmarish reality. She wiped the cold tears from her cheeks and stumbled up to her feet. A ragged breath of anger and relief escaped her lips as she saw an injured Sabrina being protected by Oscar while Georgie, the source of this insanity, slipped away into her Garden. She saw Justin and Tuyen living up to their expertise as they continued to onslaught the Triple Goddess. She heard Shane screaming like an animal, a blue aura wrapping around him, as he shouted and fired at the Goddess to come at him.

Beyond Shane’s bellows, she heard the melody of Blu’s ocarina and felt something powerful stir inside of her. The others had seemingly ignored what the skeleton had said, but even with it screwing with them that creature knew more than any of them about the supernatural. They needed to draw the Triple Goddess inside to limit her access to her powers. Yet Tansy could hardly get Dominion to control an impudent child, so she doubted her Abstraction could manage to get a Goddess to follow her orders. Thankfully, she’d known how to manipulate others well before she came in contact with Dominion. She cast a glance towards Shane, doubtful he could even hear her.

“Please, trust me.”

The full effect and then some of Dominion’s Majesty erupted from beyond Tansy in an instant thanks to Blu’s boost. The entire yard burst with so much light that it felt like the night had suddenly given way to day as the snow around Tansy was scattered to the corners of the yard. Her entire body appeared to have melted away, replaced by an angelic figure of pure light. Hundreds of voices boomed together like horns, rivaling the shouts of the Triple Goddess.

“Spare these pathetic worms, Goddess! You know they are of no real threat. They are only trying to protect their foolish sister who has abandoned them yet again. I can lead you to her,” preached Tansy, hopeful that the Goddess wouldn't call her bluff. She lifted a hand towards the Triple Goddess and beckoned as Dominion attempted to push into its mind, the light of its Majesty potentially blinding the Goddess. As she spoke Tansy began to back away into the house, hoping to lure the Goddess with her. She commanded:

"Follow me and you shall have your brother!"

Recollections: Magnanimous

---

Outside the Sunrise Resort

---

Ezra’s eyebrows lifted in concern as Oscar said he got a call from Trisha. Trisha never called family, hell, Trisha had probably never used her cell to make an actual phone call before in her life. Ezra kept one eye on Oscar and another on Thea, watching her to make sure she didn’t try to run or scream. He noted how when Arabelle appeared the concern seemed to drain from the Wiccan’s face and spill onto Oscar’s instead. By the time Oscar filled them in on the phone call Ezra was already anticipating the worst and what he heard wasn’t far from it.

“Okay. We’ll gather the others and head home. I have to head through last. The mirror will shrink otherwise, ” said Ezra to the others while Arabelle was convincing the healer. His voice betrayed no emotion as he steadied the oversized hand mirror so the others could crouch through.

However, his mind raced. Should they just snatch Georgie and Sabrina through a mirror? Could they fight the Triple Goddess if Thea backed them up? If he’d taken Autumn’s surname could he have avoided all of this insanity? As the last of their group stepped through the mirror Ezra paused, shook his head, and went through. The mirror shrunk in size and fell flat in the snow, surrounded by half a dozen footprints, a discarded camo jacket, and nothing else.

---

East Aaraminta - Construction Site

---

The sound of Shane shouting at her to stop pierced through the choir of voices and hit Tansy like a bullet. She turned as Trisha began to, for once, do as she was told and dial up Oscar, the blinding spotlight of Tansy’s hypnotic gaze fading away as she saw Shane grab her arm. With the light from Dominion’s Majesty sealed away Shane would see the look of resolve drop from Tansy’s face as Trisha broke free of her stupor and began hurling accusations at her. Tansy’s guilt of manipulating her sister was only fleeting. She wrenched her hand free of Shane. Tansy was ready to chastise Trisha for being such an ungrateful brat that she wouldn’t even attempt to rescue her family out of pure pettiness.

Tansy spun on her heel, gasped as Trisha lunged at her, and tripped over the statue as Tuyen intercepted the assault. Summoning Dominion had caused the snow to blow away, leaving nothing but frozen earth to cushion the blow as Tansy fell. She felt a sharp pain in her wrist as she tried and failed to catch herself, her hip smacking hard against the ground. A sharp intake of air was the only sound of pain as Tansy swallowed tears. She could already feel a bruise begin to form as she slowly pulled herself up and cradled her wrist.

Tansy glared pure ice at Trisha, who had turned her rage towards Tuyen for stealing her phone and was now trying to grab around Shane to assault their poor expert. She fought back the urge to snatch at Trisha by her hair. They didn’t have time to fight and even if they did Tansy didn’t want to, worried that she would easily break her favorite toy. Really, Trisha’s violent reaction was to be expected. If anything she was more upset at Shane for intervening. In her mind she hadn’t done anything wrong: Tansy only used Dominion because he had run off again. If he had been there it wouldn’t have been necessary. Arabelle arriving through the mirror was all the vindication Tansy needed to justify her actions.

“Is she… dead?” said Arabelle, referring to the humanesque statue. “What happened here?”

“We don’t have time for that! Sabrina and Georgie are in danger,” snapped Tansy as she pointed in the direction of the manor. “They never left the house and the Triple Goddess is there now!”

“We know. Morgana’s also on the way,” said Ezra as he came out of the mirror. The mirror falling in the woods had shifted the bearing of the dimensional portal, making the exit seem as if he were climbing towards it. He winced as a momentary wave of nausea hit him as the horizon corrected itself and then stood up to his full height, brushing the snow off of his knees. He nodded in approval as Justin ordered Arabelle to reroute the mirror, his eyes momentarily lingering on the fallen statue. He figured Tansy would wait for the construction to be done before ordering art pieces.

Wait, the statue was shedding flecks of stone. Was that skin?

"Morgana's sister, Tegan, can open portals to anyone she legitimately cares about. Which can be me, Morgana... the Triple Goddess..." said Thea.

Ezra looked away from the thing on the ground. Rescuing his family was a more important issue. “All the more reason we need you to help us. We’re willing to forgive your friends in full as long as they stop supporting this Goddess. No retaliations, no charges, water under the bridge. You just need to convince them to not do anything stupid if they butt in. They don’t need to help us, they just need to stay out of our way.”

Ezra turned towards the others and said, “I’ll admit I was wrong. Trying to do things in a logical, reasonable way just doesn't make sense when we're facing off against the absurd. We should’ve listened to the experts in the first place. It’s clear now that the Triple Goddess isn’t going to give us any breathing room until she gets that skull. There’s no point in hiding it, and if she can just appear anywhere then it’s useless trying to run. Fighting seems to be our only real option now. Fortunately, the Triple Goddess just gave us a prime opportunity. She overextended herself—some of the Wiccans were still at the resort. We protect Georgie and Sabrina and hit the Goddess and Morgana,” he glanced at Thea for any protests, ”hard before the Wiccans even have a chance to intervene.”

"Every second counts. Arabelle, open the way."

Recollections: Magnanimous

---

Outside the Sunrise Resort

---

Crouching out in the brush and waiting for Justin and Oscar to start the show, Ezra couldn’t help but feel like a jerkass teenager playing ding dong ditch again. Would the “witches” melt when the water hit them? The soft sound of sprinklers snapping to life immediately stifled by the shrieks of the Wiccans getting drenched made Ezra pretend a mean-spirited chuckle was a quiet cough into his fist. For a moment he almost forgot that earlier that day these people had destroyed his property and, perhaps more importantly, endangered the life of his family. The juvenile thoughts faded from Ezra’s head as he sternly fixed his gaze on the door and waited for Blu to do his thing.

Blu’s melody drew Ezra’s attention away. The song was unnatural but not unpleasant and for a moment Ezra was so enraptured by it he almost forgot to panic about how the Wiccans might hear before remembering what Blu had said, although quickly that thought was snuffed by another worrying about how Blu knew that some people were the “resistive type”. The young man seemed harmless enough. Surely it was all on the up-and-up? Ezra squinted as he saw the song take form in a mystical light as if he was experiencing synesthesia. It was beautiful. Yes, surely Blu was to be trusted.

Unless the song is just making me think that, worried Ezra, who reasoned that if he thought that it meant he wasn’t being controlled by the music before immediately realizing that magic broke logic and as far as he knew Blu’s power was making him come up with arguments to convince himself that he wasn’t currently being enchanted.

The healer emerging from the building pulled Ezra’s attention away from his own spiraling. Even when disheveled by the impromptu shower she was prettier than he’d imagined a cultist to be and the light of Blu’s music swirling around her chest gave the healer a kind of etherealness. Ezra nodded at Arabelle to follow and quietly walked through the woods to join Blu in the brush. He held his hands up as the healer was pulled into the woods by Blu’s song to show that he meant no harm, hoping that the presence of Arabelle would stop the healer from bolting once Blu’s Abstraction wore off.

“Your friends really should’ve picked a better place to squat. There’s a reason this resort is abandoned. One moment it’s the sprinklers going off, next thing you know the roof collapses. Here. You’ll catch a cold,” Ezra shrugged off the camo jacket, happy to be rid of the ridiculous thing, and extended it out towards Thea as a peace offering. In his other hand was a handheld mirror he’d removed from the coat moments prior. “I’m Ezra Vanburen. I’ve been told by a mutual friend of ours that we both might have the same opinion when it comes to your group’s current leadership. If you would come with us I am sure we could manage to come to some sort of agreement that would leave us all quite happy—at least those of us who still have some sense.”

“Arabelle, if you would,” said Ezra as he inverted his grip on the handheld mirror. The bracelet on his wrist glowed a faint orange as the broken wire puzzle twisted and condensed, pressing the leather strap into his wrist. Meanwhile, the mirror grew from several inches across to nearly a few feet—large enough for an adult to crawl through once Arabelle turned it into a portal to link them to the group at Tansy’s construction site.