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2 yrs ago
Current tbh a death threat was not on my 2023 bingo
1 like
2 yrs ago
man if you’re just gonna fucking admit it what’s the point. go touch grass. don’t kill your roommate.
2 yrs ago
ANOTHER ONE?!?!
1 like
2 yrs ago
holy shit roommate murder guy went off
1 like
2 yrs ago
announcing intent to murder is pretty juicy, tbh
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With a grin on her face, Jamie followed Chad to the bar. Drinking with friends was something she was familiar with, at least. Hopefully, no one would get too wild, but even if they did, it’d be fun! Woo! The bar looked tropical, appropriately themed for an island resort. She took a seat on one of the wicker bar stools next to Chad and leaned against the bar. Chad looked a bit nervous. Weird! He did look young though, so maybe that was why?

Jamie signaled for the bartender, and the woman walked over. She was about to order when Chad spoke up… asking to be carded? Her eyebrows shot up and she giggled, almost in disbelief. He knew that you didn’t ask to get carded, right? Weird kid.

“I’ll have a piña colada, please!” Jamie piped up and handed over her credit card. “And… I’ll get one from my friend here, too. “ She gestured to Chad. She would’ve gotten one for Joseph, but she knew that he preferred the harder stuff. A piña colada would be a little too light for him. Plus, poor Chad didn’t seem to know what he was doing here.

The bartender came back with two fruity-looking yellow drinks in coconut cups with umbrella straws poling out of them. She set one in front of Jamie and the other in front of Chad and then walked off. Jamie enthusiastically took a sip of her drink. “Mmmm, this is good. You can really taste the pineapple! And the rum. It’s not very alcoholic, though, so we’ll have to have a couple if we wanna get drunk. And I could drink more than a few of these.”

Jamie cocked her head at Chad’s question and thought a bit. Actually, if she thought a bit, this was the first time Powers had ever done this in her six years of working for him. “No, he really isn’t,” she told him. “I don’t know why he’d suddenly set up a vacation like this, but all the power to him! A vacation on the company dime is awesome. He’s usually super yell-y and strict, but this is cool. Hopefully he’ll be nice this week. Not like he can get mad at me for wrecking any buildings here.”








that’s an alright plan, max. not into getting kidnapped (though i’d bet money some of you are) but we don’t have a lot of options.

blake i HAVE a girlfriend tyvm, and she is not a fucking villain. i’ll see what i can do about distracting her though


Patricia sat back and watched the action happen for a moment. Blake ran after the Black Baron, which she could only hope went well, and Malady disappeared into the hallway with some gangster-looking man. Just as that happened, she got another ding from her phone. Apparently, Blake wanted one of them to eavesdrop. Patricia scoffed quietly. Since when had he become leader? Notmenotmenotme… But nobody else was getting up to go do it. So, with reluctance, Patricia stood from her chair, death-glared at Cerise, Max, and Alpha, and headed over to the side room.

Were those… marbles moving on the wall? Patricia squinted for a moment and tried to reconcile what she was seeing with the laws of physics before she realized what they were. Oh! A little smile appeared on her face. Those would be Rumi’s, and if Rumi was spying, she didn’t need to! Satisfied, Patti turned back around and headed back to the bar.

She was maybe halfway to her seat when she got yet another ding from her phone. She dug it out and read it, brows furrowed… ah. Shit. She stuffed her phone back into her purse. If Malady knew there were heroes on the ship… did she know about the rest of them, or just Brooke and Rumi? And if she was heading to the boiler room…

Patricia could guess that Malady was maybe closer to the boiler room than they were and was probably making a beeline for there at that moment. If they got there after she did, it would be too late for Brooke and Rumi. And if she was closer, she’d definitely get there before them. Although she didn’t know the two very well, she still didn’t want her colleagues to die. That sort of took precedence over the whole not wanting to get recognized thing.

well, that’s bad! I think she’s closer to you two than we are. I’m gonna go delay her. everyone else, get to the boiler room asap


Heart pumping in her chest, Patricia did a full 180 on her heel and headed right back into the hallway. Malady had just left the room after murdering Jim Rockferry and was heading straight down the hall to the boiler room. What should I do? She had options, but little time. Should she sing? No, she’d hear her and send that mist at her. Making someone vomit was a good way to shut them up. Judging from their only reaction, she didn’t seem likely to kill Patricia. Maybe she should mention that ominous note? Bump into her?

Yes, that was the right way to go. She clenched her fists, took a deep breath, and sped-walk towards Malady’s back. Then, just as she was turning the corner, Patricia barreled into her with the grace of an ox, sending both of them falling to the ground.

“Oh! Oh no, I am so sorry, I am such a klutz. It seems I don’t look where I’m walking. I was just looking for the bathroom…” Patricia trailed off. In case Malady didn’t recognize her, she didn’t want to reveal herself too prematurely. But if she did, she’d go on with the second phase of her impromptu plan. Breath held, she waited for a response.





Carmen’s weekend was chock-full of studying, and not much else. Studying for the mission, that was. She didn’t get much done in the way of homework, which she would certainly pay the price for, but this was just so much more damn interesting! And important. Important too. For the next two days, she barely emerged from her room except to eat and go to the bathroom. She was too busy with her research. To the best of her ability, Carmen attempted to teach herself how to listen and speak in Cantonese over the weekend, although she didn’t make it too far. She also researched a fair bit about the general city of Macau, and then she tried her best to learn specifics about Mexican cartel dealings so she wouldn’t look like an idiot in her cover identity. All this left her little time to sleep. As was routine for Carmen, she pulled an all-nighter Saturday night. The only reason she did go to sleep Sunday night was a pesky agent named Bug. The girl had figured out she was still awake at midnight and had wasted no time in pulling embarrassing photos and texts off her phone and blackmailing her into hitting the hay. Carmen had complied, albeit begrudgingly. An extra 8 hours of studying was not worth her pictures being leaked to the rest of the squad.

The next afternoon, Carmen was right on time for the briefing. Having to tell her teachers that she hadn’t done her homework burned, but she knew it’d be worth it. Despite her anxieties over the weekend, Carmen was excited. She could barely contain her grin. She stared bright-eyed at Nadia as she briefed them. Her grin slowly slid off her face. Oh. This was a lot worse than she had anticipated. Carmen fidgeted a bit nervously. They were assassinating someone? She wasn’t sure if she could assassinate someone… although it probably wouldn’t be her pulling the trigger.

Carmen gulped her fears down as they walked over to Professor MacMahon. She ran her hand over some of the gadgets, ear peeled at his lecture. She winced at his simile. Gruesome. Carmen never had much use for gadgets, being mostly the translator, but she did take a deck of listening cards, a discreet two-way earpiece, a nightstick that doubled as a selfie stick, brass knuckles disguised as rings, a gun (which she’d only use if she was REALLY in a bind), a makeup mirror that was also a camera, a lipstick knife, and a host of other knick-knacks she thought might come in handy. After Ollie, she stepped into the stalls and changed hurriedly. She emerged in a lovely red dress and pointed thin black flats. Externally, she looked the part of María Elena Flores García, the American-educated daughter of an incredibly wealthy cartel leader and Mexican mob boss.

Carmen gave Foxtrot and Tango a good scratch on the chins before steeling herself and stepping through the Worm. She really didn’t like this thing. She would’ve clung to Ben’s arm if she had thought it’d make any difference, but it never did in the end. She emerged feeling a bit worse for war and looking a little green around the gills.

Gosh, how did everyone else deal with this? She looked around the room. Yuto looked cool as a cucumber, as always, and Ben and Ollie looked like they were having the time of their lives. Meanwhile, Carmen was just trying not to vomit. It took a few moments of deep breaths to get it under control until she was normal again. Then, she looked around the room.

Her eyes widened. This place was pretty. Certainly better than where they had stayed in Timbuktu. She went off to go poke her head into the girls’ bedroom when she heard her code name mentioned and perked up her head. Oh. It was just Yuto. She was glad he wasn’t actually addressing her- the older boy was notorious for being snappy to the younger agents. Her head snapped to Ollie as he spoke, too, and a raging blush swept across her cheeks. He couldn’t possibly intend for some of them to pretend to be couples!

“I-” Carmen stammered for a moment, at a loss for words. As much as she hated to admit it, though, it wasn’t a bad idea. “It’s… a good idea. I guess. But I don’t like it.” A ding from her watch interrupted her from this travesty of a conversation, thankfully.

Carmen’s eyebrows flew up into her hairline as she read “caramel”. Who did Ben think he was? But, thankfully, it was only a typo, and she let out a sigh of relief. That hadn’t been ground she had wanted to cover, today. He wanted to meet her in the hallway, apparently, and she grinned. Getting to do some recon could be fun!

totes!!!! be down there in a few C:


Carmen grabbed her bag, waved bye to some of the rest of the agents, and headed downstairs. True to her word, she met Ben in the hallway, on the patterned carpet of the casino.

She stood stock-still, glancing around the place. “So? Where to? I don’t really know how to gamble beyond, like, blackjack or anything…” She trailed off. “We could go get a bite to eat at the bar or something? I haven’t really eaten since lunch. And I have the 11:30 AM lunch. My ID identifies me as 21, so we could get the lay of the land from there. We could try to walk around, too, catch some conversation. Drunk people talk, and I can listen and talk back more than you. I- I don’t know, though. You have more experience than me, obviously. I’m deflecting to you, of course.” She glanced at Ben shyly. All she really wanted was to do the right thing on this mission. If that meant listening to Ben, then it meant listening to Ben. Not that that was bad, not at all. Certainly better than listening to Binx.

@Hitman@Jumbus



Blake’s texts earned one of Patricia’s signature eye rolls but didn’t quite merit a response. As Patricia had found out the hard way, there wasn’t any point in getting into it with Blake. Especially not over official channels in the middle of a volatile undercover mission. Besides, she would win no matter the situation. She did, however, send a :p after his taunting text. She was about to text a second response (it was hard to resist, okay) when Blake sent his next text, which led to her snapping her head up and gazing at the action at the center of the room.

Could this be where they found the Black Baron? Patricia sat up a bit straighter and tried to blend in as best possible. If he revealed himself now, all it would take would be avoiding Malady, cornering him in the room with the hostages, and using her power as fast as possible. It wasn’t exactly a strategy she hadn’t used before. It would be easy. Patricia joined in on the clapping as the old man entered the scene and listened intently to his little speech.

Oh. Oh, SHIT. This was bad. Bad bad bad. Her mind swirled with the implications. If Malady was the Black Baron now (or the Black Baroness)... Patricia had to actively work at keeping her expression neutral and clapping along. This made their plan doubly harder. But still not impossible. Now they just had to juggle taking down a superpowered serial killer senior citizen with taking down his not so senior psychotic teenage girl replacement. Who may or may not be secretly good and a mind-controlled slave to a one-eyed bat.

Yeah, this was gonna be bad. Patricia chanced a glance out of a window nearby, only to see that they had already taken off from the harbor. Her heart plummeted. They were stranded. If worst came to worst and they lost and were captured… well, there were no sneaky escapes in the cards. And no portals, since Grace was on vacation. Patricia was trying to look anywhere but in Malady’s direction, so she chose her phone.

FUCK

i think we should keep our first plan, but this fucks some things up. i’m not sure we could take both in a fight, but given what happened in april i’m not sure malady WILL fight us. i’d say top priority is not being recognized (applies mostly to blake and i) and ESPECIALLY not being captured or like murdered. i’m bad at plans. if they make a move for the boiler room, we should follow and try to take them out. also like maybe tell chrissy ASAP???


That was really everything rational Patti could think of. She set down her phone and chanced a glance at the supervillains receiving the attention at the center of the room.

Hopefully, they wouldn’t fuck this up.








Jamie was good at sports. As a teenager, she had been a cheerleader- had been one of the best on the team, actually. So it was no surprise that she was good at volleyball, too! Jamie was grinning as they hit the ball back and forth between their two teams, feeling good. People tended to underestimate how nice it was to move around when you had recently recovered from a terrible injury. It had been more than a month since Jamie had recovered, but that didn’t necessarily mean it didn’t feel nice. Plus, she had to admit, it felt just as good to be winning. Which she thought they were, even if Joseph was terrible at volleyball. How could someone that muscley be so terrible at this game?

Leaping up and hitting the ball, Jamie played the game. One shot made it over the net and far to her left, making her lunge for it. Just as the ball was about to hit the sand on her side, though, a man intervened. Without even realizing she was doing it, she looked him up and down. Cute! He was tall, attractive. Tattoos were always nice too. Yousef sounded just like Joseph to her ears, but she let it slide.

A deep blush came over her as Yousef mentioned her name, and she giggled. “Oh, well, thank you…” Jamie ran a hand through her braided hair and leaned in. Maybe this vacation could be a bit more fun than she had thought. She took the piece of paper, read it (it was a phone number!), and stuffed it away in her pocket. “You know, I just might take you up on that. Thanks!” She waved as he walked off, smiling.

What Joseph had to say quickly got rid of her good mood. She didn’t know what a “magus” was, or why they were dangerous, but the mention of the ice user that had impaled her turned her expression dark. That was really the last thing she had wanted to be reminded of right now.

“Oh, Joseph, stop it,” she teased, although with far less lightness than before. Although, it was Jamie, so her tone was still light. “That guy was cute! I’m sure he’s not a majus or whatever. But if you really think so… fine. You’re so paranoid.” Jamie flicked his forehead and stuck her tongue out at him.

“If we don't wanna play anymore we could… go to the bar! Ooh, piña coladas are so good. We can get the drinks with the little umbrellas and everything!”


There were few things open in Gary at this hour. As a small town, it had little need for nightlife or many 24-hour convenience stores. It had too few people old enough to drink but young enough to gladly stay up past 11:00. However, that didn’t mean that people there didn’t like to drink, or that there was no need for a 24-hour convenience store. There were businesses open, though. Little things. A shitty little dive bar on the main street, the motel with its flickering neon lights, a 7-11, a McDonald’s.

For a Wednesday, the bar was hopping. Unsurprising, considering the unemployment rampant in this sort of town. It was just called Gary Bar. The atmosphere inside wasn’t particularly appealing or gross. It was just… normal. There was a bar, an old bartender behind it. He looked old enough to be in a retirement home. There were drinks behind the bar, of course, but it seemed he had also placed some memorabilia there and across the bar- photos, taxidermied animal heads, flags. The usual. The seats in front of it were chafing leather and were filled with men and women kicking back and relaxing after a long day of work. Or maybe not working. The lights over them were dim. There were booths in the back, but few people were seated in them. A low hum of conversation ran through the air. Nothing was particularly rowdy about this crowd, although things could always turn the wrong way There were about 15 people in the bar at this hour, give or take. Only a few looked like they could possibly be under 30.

Three of those few sat in a booth by the door. All three were young-looking women. If anyone had been paying much attention to them, they would have noticed that they were very out of place. They didn’t look much like they belonged. Only one of the women had a meal (if you could call it that) and a drink in front of her. She was sitting on a seat opposite the other two, drinking her beer heartily. Compared to the other two, who were pale and blood-drawn, this woman looked normal. She had light brown skin and eyes and had dark brown hair.

Once she was done with it, she slammed the glass down on the varnished wood table. She was strong, muscled, so it rattled the table a little. The shorter of the two women opposite her jumped. “Bartender!” she yelled. Her voice didn’t sound quite drunk yet, but she certainly sounded tipsy. “Need a refill!”

The old man at the bar huffed but approached their booth, stopping in front of them... “You need to come to the bar to order.” He didn’t sound too serious about it- more like an annoyed grandpa than anything.

“Right, right, sorry.” The woman smiled, revealing shiny, straight white teeth. “Could I get another beer?”

“Sure.” He didn’t note it down in his notepad, instead leaving it in his hands. He squinted at the three of them. “Say, are your friends hungry or anything? We have wings in the back if they’re interested. Looks like you two could stand to eat. No offense, girls, but you look ill. All pale around the edges. Unless that’s just how girls do their makeup these days.” He chuckled.

The woman’s smile tightened just a bit. “Yeah. It’s… something like that. They don’t want anything. Just get me the beer, alright?” At that, the older man walked off.

The woman ran her hands through her thick, dark hair and sighed. “Longer we spend here, the more people will think you two have cancer. Isn’t that joyous?” Her voice was layered with sarcasm, and her deep brown eyes sparked with a bit of irritation.

The shorter, pale woman- a blonde with blue eyes- shrugged. “Happens everywhere. You’ll get used to it.” The woman beside her, still short but taller and another brunette, didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the conversation going on. Instead, she was staring at something all the way across the room. After a moment, the blonde’s eyes shifted over to stare at the same point.

It was a noncommittal response, and that only seemed to irk the dark-haired woman more. “Come on, you can’t even joke with me? If I’ve gotta babysit you two, I want to at least have some fun. Jesus.” At her own words, she mock-gasped. “Oh, no, sorry, I said the J word. Please don’t combust!”

The blonde rolled her eyes without taking them off of whatever she was looking at. “That’s a myth.”

The bartender brought over the beer, which she took gratefully. The conversation halted for a moment before he left. “Whatever. Everything’s a myth with you guys, isn’t it?” she eventually said. “Next you’re going to tell me you have a reflection.”

“I do.”

“What a shocking revelation. Yet another lie they’ve told us.” The women’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

The blonde woman’s eyes drifted over to the other woman’s, and she rolled her eyes once again and glared. “Do you have a problem, Heather?”

The dark-haired woman, Heather, raised her hands as if surrendering and shook her head. “No. On the contrary, actually. I’m just poking a little fun. Pay no attention.”

The blonde narrowed her eyes. “Well, you’re being irritating. I don’t like irritating.”

Heather raised her brows but left it there. Instead of acting up further, she directed her eyes over to where the two other women were looking. They were staring intently at a man across the room, who was sipping beer with his buddies. He looked young and healthy. Maybe mid-late 20s. Her mouth hardened into a thin line. “Look, I get you’re hungry,” she whispered. “Once he leaves, we can go.”

It was about a half-hour before the man left the bar. Silently, Heather and the other two women stood from the booth and headed out after him.

The second woman, the one who hadn’t spoken before, glanced at Heather once they had left the building and the earshot of most of the people inside. She was tall and had short-cut brown hair. “Shouldn’t you be doing the invisible thing?” she asked, skeptical.

“No.” Heather glanced at the street, vigilant. “It would be a waste of my energy. We’re in the dark, small town, no one’s up. I don’t think there’ll be an issue. Unless…” She considered something for a moment, and then shook her head.

“What is it?” It was the blonde asking.

“Nothing. I’m just starting to get worried that the sisters-” she said that word with the harshest inflection possible- “are going to try and send someone after us soon. Probably not tonight, though. We’re doing monitoring- if anyone but us uses magic in the area, we’ll know.”

The short-haired brunette shrugged. “Good enough for me. He’s getting into his car. Should we…?”

The blonde licked her lips, and Heather shivered. Some things never got less creepy. Before they could do anything, Heather looked around the street carefully. The only buildings in sight were the bar, a gas station, and a barber’s shop. She couldn’t see any security cams. “You’re all clear. I’m going to turn around for this,” said Heather, and she promptly did.

It didn’t stop the noises from reaching her ear though. The two vampires were fast and strong, and the noise of them slamming the man against his tan Hyundai was loud enough to hear. He made an effort to scream, his eyes widened in terror, but the blonde quickly put her hand over his mouth and shut him up.

“Can’t we just knock him out or something? Does he really have to be awake?” The brunette asked.

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Shauna, you’re such a wuss. Now hold him while I take my share.”

And that was how that went. Shauna, the brunette, held the boy as the blonde sank her fangs into his collarbone and drank. Once it was her own turn, Shauna would drink herself. And then, after that, they’d leave the man bloody and unconscious in his car as they walked back to their own.







Everything happened so quickly that Calypso could barely keep track of it all. It only took a moment for her to weave her spell, but everything seemed to occur at super speed. Hana got free, she noted with relief, but was bleeding prof- nope she was not looking at that. A wall of fire appeared behind Hana and between the fight, which Calypso assumed was Alayna’s work. That was all she could really care to note with magic swirling around her. She let it build and build until she could feel it reach its extent. Then, she breathed and then released. In a concussive blast, the force of her magical energy boomed from her slicing hand. Exactly as she had wanted, it knocked the wind out of Dmitri and sent him sprawling to the ground. He started t stagger upwards, but that spell wud take a good moment to recover from.

She grinned. That hadn’t been that hard. But hadn’t there been a third? Calypso’s eyes scanned the area of their battle for the third woman she had seen until she saw her running straight for Alayna.

“Alayna! Vampire behind you!”




True enough, the lady vampire dashed up behind Alayna just as Calypso shouted. She was of middling height and had brown eyes, tan skin, and cropped brown hair. As soon as Alayna turned around, she tried to punch her across the face with as much strength as she could muster. Which was a lot. For good measure, she tried to kick her as well.

“Hope you can take a little hit, fire-wielder,” she spat. “I heard witch blood tastes good. Would be a shame to miss the chance to taste it fresh.”




Meanwhile, the vampire that David was fighting certainty could take a hit. He hissed in pain as David’s brass knuckles hit his cheek, and he was knocked back a few feet. But the bloody skin it left sealed up in a matter of seconds, and he charged right back into the fight. And he wasn’t pulling his punches. He tried to punch David in the face and then in the stomach. His fists carried a lot more power behind them than David’s did even with the brass knuckles helping, so he would do a lot more damage. After he punched him, he lunged for David’s neck.




Outside of the graveyard, the three vampires took notice of Dakota and Iris as soon as they stepped out of the car. From there, they sprung into action. One lunged directly into Iris’s path, clearly intending to attempt to slam her to the ground before being attacked with a faceful of Corvus. It wasn’t enough to keep him down, but it was enough to momentarily confuse him and maybe allow Iris to slip by. Who wouldn’t be confused after being attacked by a wooden bird?

Dakota’s attack, meanwhile, had much more impact. One of the vampires lunged for Arken as he tried to get inside, but her magic Molotov cocktail caught him straight on the head before he could. He screamed in pain, a human sound, and tried to put himself out to no avail. The woman beside him was on fire, too, although to a lesser extent. “Fuck you!” she screamed. Their way through the gate and to their friends was open.




Turns out, fire is extremely visible. At least, from the groundskeeper’s standpoint, it was. He was patrolling on the other side of the graveyard when he heard screams, and then a whoosh of fire. Two, in fact. Frantic, he dug out his phone and dialed 911.

“Yes, hello? I’m at the graveyard on the corner of 5th and Dallon… there’s a gang fight going on or something! They set fires, c-come quick!”



Carmen wasn’t far into the dark, musty vents when she heard something alarming from her comms. “Oh, fuck,” It was Ben? Had something happened so soon? “Kingfisher? she whispered into her earpiece, a concerned tone in her voice.. “Kingfisher, come through. Status update?” There was only silence on the other end. No no no... If Ben wasn’t responding, that meant something had happened. She really didn’t want to be cleaning up paint after thi-

Fuck. Carmen only had a single moment to widen her eyes in shock as she took notice of the beeping red dot right in front of her. Oh. OH. That was bad. “Guys, I think they put a bomb in the v-”

The bomb went off with a deafening, paint-filled explosion. Carmen absolutely wouldn’t admit this later, but she screamed like a ten-year-old girl. The vent shook violently, and the force of the claymore and the exploding paint slammed her body against the metal walls of the vent. It also dislodged her earpiece. “Ow… she groaned. Her head spun, her body ached something fierce, and she could feel that she was covered in wet paint. She laid there for a moment, eyes closed, breathing in paint fumes and trying to regain her bearings.

Carmen considered laying there for the rest of the exercise- that was how much that had hurt- but she remembered from an article she had read that breathing in paint fumes caused headaches, dizziness, and nausea. Not good. She didn’t even bother to find her earpiece again. So she crawled back to her elbows and scooted along, looking miserable until she found a vent going up. With shaking hands, she yanked the vent down and crawled up.

Bug, who was in the room above, would see a miserable-looking, paint-drenched Carmen haul herself out of the air vent, only to lay down on the ground and moan loudly. “Hey, Bug. Please don't shoot me. I think I have a concussion,” she groused, face fully in the ground. She didn’t particularly care about being found out anymore- she was in no shape to fight, anyway. In a normal mission, that would have killed her.

Honestly, she would've rather taken dying over the humiliation of being immediately blown up.


This mission just might go well.

Patricia leaned against the wall of the warehouse storage bay. Her eyes were focused on Blake as he spoke. For once, she wasn’t rolling her eyes at him, because what he was saying made actual sense. The seven of them had crafted the plan together, and although it wasn’t perfect (she had learned over the past year that no plan ever was), it was good enough. As long as it didn’t get completely blown up. She'd just be happy if it did go well. Well, happy enough. She was still bitter about their stolen vacation. For this mission, she had donned a long, plain, strappy black dress; tan high-heeled sandals; and a red purse. Among various other things, there was a gun, her fake ID (listing her as 21-year-old Patricia O’Connor), and a burner cell in the purse. Her ears were decorated with golden hoops, and she had several sparkly bracelets and a golden necklace on her person. Her nails were painted red. Her hair was done up into a loose bun on the back of her head, and her makeup (red lipstick, smokey eye, heavy mascara, etc.) had been applied perhaps a bit heavier than needed. Whatever. It had been Christina and Zoe who had orchestrated most of their outfits, anyway.

“Alright, then. Let’s go,” said Patricia after Blake spoke. She pushed herself off the wall, grabbed the blind-folded Brooke by the shoulders roughly, and shoved her along after Blake and Rumi. A stutter of fear ran through her at seeing the gangsters, but she quickly tamped it down. Oddly enough, she felt braver than she had last time they had all done something like this. It emboldened her. She kept an impartial face the entire time Blake spoke to the gangsters, although she had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at his stupid Irish accent. If he kept that up, they would absolutely be found out. There was no way anyone actually talked like that!

The gangster raised a brow at Patricia after Blake went in, to which she responded with a shrug. “Same story as ‘im. ‘Ere’s me pass.” She fished it out of her purse and handed it to him. Her Irish accent was much less pronounced than Blake’s because she actually had some semblance of dignity, but she still found it a bit fun.

The guard took a moment to scrutinize her pass, but he eventually handed it over to her. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Have a nice night, lass.” He then clapped her on the shoulder and ushered her in.

As soon as she was allowed in, Patricia followed Blake and made a beeline for the boiler room. She was trying to look like she was being as rough as possible with Brooke while actually not being rough, and it was a hard balance. If Brooke had been actually resisting, she probably would have been able to get away ages ago. The ship was opulent, Patricia noted, and crowded. If they were exposed in the open, they wouldn’t stand much of a chance.

Once they got into the boiler room, Patricia let go of her vice grip on Brooke’s shoulders and lifted up the other woman’s blindfold for a moment. “Sorry about that,” she said, sheepishly. Patricia fully realized it wasn’t the best first impression for someone who actually seemed quite nice. “Basically the same thing Blake said. Just sit here, look hostage-y, and if the Black Baron comes, well… call us and try not to die. Maybe don’t call Blake if he’s getting wasted though.” She gave a key and a cell phone to Brooke and then pulled her blindfold down again. “Good luck.” She left the boiler room after Blake and went back to the ballroom, fully ready to do some sleuthing.

The first rule of going undercover: Look busy. Patti headed for the bar and took up a seat a good ways away from Blake. Ordering a virgin drink might look a bit suspicious, so she just ordered a Shirley Temple. Her eyes flitted around the room, looking for the Black Baron. She knew he was old, but she couldn’t see anyone that resembled him. However, her eyes did set upon someone that made her blood run cold.

Malady. Shit! Patricia immediately averted her gaze and tried to school her expression into something resembling neutrality. She hadn’t seen the other girl since April, and she would be lying if she said she’d been looking forward to seeing her again. Why would Zero be here? If they were after something here… well, then, it was bound to be a shitshow. Hopefully, they didn’t realize that there were “hostages” in the backroom. She took an anxious sip of her drink and reached for her phone, fumbling. She checked behind her before she did to look for any over-the-shoulder creepers, but she took a discreet picture of Kat and sent it to the group chat, along with a text.

im at the bar too. spotted malady. for everyone who doesn't know, she's an extremely dangerous, classified villain. dont let her get you alone and dont let her touch you. hopefully she wont be a problem, but we should probably let christina know about this later.

dont have any ideas. maybe we should wait and just watch the entrance to the boiler room? we should maybe talk to some of the mobsters around

also blake pls don’t drink that entire martini i stg i WILL hurt you
Patricia










Chad easily beat Jamie to the volleyball court, of course. Despite her head start, Jamie certainly wasn’t as good a runner like him. She tried not to look hurt and grinned instead. “Ooh, Starbright’s coming? We should totally wait for him!” A 2v2 would be much better than one of the other things they had thought of.

Jamie took her strappy sandals off and deposited them on the ground next to the court. It was no good to play with those shoes- she would trip!

Before she fully realized it, Starbright had arrived, and he was talking about teams. Jamie almost volunteered herself to be his teammate, but Chad got there first. Oh, well. Being on a superstar’s team was fun and all, but she had Joseph! And he was… Joseph! She couldn’t think of any volleyball-related positive qualities of his.

“Ooh, I love serving!” Jamie caught the ball effortlessly. “Heads up!” She threw the ball into the air, put her hands together, and hit it onto the other side of the net.



Before Carmen knew it, everyone was heading to their respective places, and the start of the exercise was nigh. A look of panic briefly flashed over her face. She was useless, and she had no idea where she should go. Maybe she could enter through a broken window? Sneak around until she managed to distract someone? It was the best she could come up with. Carmen knew her own limits, and she knew that she was smacking right up against one with this exercise. She was made for going undercover, not… whatever this was! Useless, useless, useless.

Ben started to speak, and Carmen only half-listened before he said her name. She jumped and turned to look at him. Carm...you should probably come with me.” Ben smiled at her, and a slight blush tinged Carmen’s cheeks. ”Don't want you getting caught out by one of them and getting shot.”

“O-oh! Okay!” She smiled back at him, not picking up on how forced his was. She hadn’t been expecting that, but she supposed she should have. After all, Ben was so nice! Hopefully, she wouldn’t bring him down much. He was arguably one of the most useful on their team at the moment, and she wouldn’t want to cost them the win.

Once Nadia told them they could go, Carmen followed Ben into the building. Although not good with guns, she was not terrible at stealth, so she made no sounds. She gazed around the first floor. It looked abandoned like they thought it would. If she was right, there wouldn’t be anyone down here- it was a vulnerable area. But they still needed to be careful. She crept after Ben, holding her nightstick rather than her pistol. With her mouth shut, she watched him shoot out the cameras. “Impressive,” she whispered, although she was sure he already knew how impressive that move had been. She nodded at him when he spoke again.

There was a loud, almost deafening sound when the paint bomb went off. Carmen jumped, startled. Thank God she hadn’t walked into that thing! She followed Ben up the stairs and into the dilapidated cubicle and glanced up at the air vent.

Ben seemed to have the same thought as her. ”Carm, this is perfect...you can climb right in and head around the whole floor from above! Just watch out for any rats or loose screws.”

“You want me to... get in there?” Carmen considered the vent for a long moment. She was certainly small enough to fit, and it wasn’t like Ben was asking her to snipe anyone from the vent. She should probably get in.

But then, Ben seemed to have a second thought. He climbed up on the desk and started to jimmy open the vent. ”I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to. Just an idea. I mean, I can go, it's just, you know, Nadia made me go through air vents all the time on missions. Because of the height thing,” Ben said. ”But I don't want to volunteer you, y'know...I'll do it, actually,” Ben said quickly, starting to step onto the desk and head into the vents.

Carmen’s heart stuttered in her chest. She didn’t want to be left down here alone! Especially if the other team was hunting them. Plus… well, she knew she would lose in a fight. This was the only way she could be useful, damnit! “Wait!” She tugged on his jean leg with force, stopping him from entering the vent. “I didn’t disagree, did I? I’ll go. It’s a good idea, and… well, I am shorter than you,” she joked. “You’ll be better down here than I will.” Then, she practically yanked him off of the desk and stood on it herself.

It wasn’t hard to get into the vent. It took a bit of wiggling, but Carmen fit her shoulders into the vent (it was so dark), and then her butt, and then her feet. Once she was fully in, she started to wiggle down the little path. It was dark and claustrophobic, and she definitely heard a couple of scurrying sounds, but… she was in! “I’m in the vents,” she whispered into her radio. “I’ll report back in once I’ve seen something. Babel out.” She squinted as she saw light ahead. Could that be an opening, maybe?




This alarm business was depraved cruelty, even for PROM.

Horrendous beeping awoke Carmen from her three hours of sleep. “Nooo…” she groaned, a long and pained sound. She had absolutely not set an alarm for 7:00 AM on a Saturday morning, so why oh why was one going off? She had studied nearly all night, and was so tired. Sluggishly, and with her head still buried in her pillow, Carmen pawed around her nightstand for the source of the horrible, horrible sound. Her hand closed around her phone, but that wasn’t it! Weird. She didn’t own anything else that beeped, unless…

Yup, it was her AP Watch. Carmen’s hand closed around the offending device and drew it onto the bed. It had only been three months since her tenure with PROM had begun, so she hadn’t really gotten used to the device yet. It was like an Apple Watch, but… better? Hers was pastel blue and came with an advanced translation app. Was this something it did? Was there anything important? Carmen drew herself up to investigate and squinted at the bright orange lettering.

It read “EMERGENCY”. Carmen gasped, her lethargy suddenly gone, and scrambled up from her bed to her wardrobe. She wasn’t entirely sure what was emergency appropriate wear, so she wrestled herself into a pair of boot-cut jeans, a green-blue graphic tee with a small, white turtle sewn into a pocket near the upper left neckline, and tennis shoes. Once she was what she thought was appropriately dressed, she scoured her backpack for her earpiece and clipped it into her ear.

“What’s wrong, Hiram?” she whispered, careful not to wake any of her sleeping family members. She played with her hands, anxious.

A pre-recorded message sounded, and Carmen waited with ramping up anxiety through static. "Good morning, agent. Mandatory training exercise at 1700 Coolidge Road in Swindon in exactly 27 minutes. Failure to attend will result in significant consequences."

Her anxious expression turned into a peeved frown. “That’s it?!” So much for an emergency. Hopefully this wasn't a waste of a morning. She groaned, picked up her backpack, and looked around her bedroom for anything she might need. Carmen’s room was an organizer’s paradise. Her desk, nightstand, and dresser didn’t have much clutter. Her desk had a laptop, some (normal) pastel pens all lined up in a row, and countless boxes of flashcards piled up on it. There was a small bookshelf right next to it, which had plenty of foreign literature stacked in it. Her one concession to a break in her aesthetic was the terrarium. It sat in the back corner of her room, in which a heat lamp shone onto two large red-eared slider turtles. Carmen cooed at her turtles as she went over to grab her phone from her nightstand. On a normal day, she would’ve made her bed, but she had only 25 minutes to get coffee and get to Coolidge Road. Wherever that was. Her bed was twin-sized, with a pink quilt bedspread and a mass of stuffed animals spread over it. It was a lot of stuffed animals for a teenage girl, certainly, but they brought Carmen joy.

Carmen wasn’t entirely sure what to bring for a surprise training exercise at 7 AM, so she just dropped her phone, a water bottle (it was purple!), a white scrunchie, and a case of her special pens into a mini backpack. Was she supposed to bring other things? Was there some sort of unwritten rule as to what to do in this situation? Would everybody laugh at her for doing something wrong? Oh God, she hoped she wasn’t doing something wrong. Carmen slung her mini backpack onto her back and rushed to the kitchen to pour herself a travel mug of black coffee. Only her mother was awake, watching telenovelas in the living room, but Carmen just offered a short explanation about having to go to the park for a club meeting. And then, once she hopped onto her bicycle, she was off.

At this time of the morning, the sun hadn’t quite yet risen. The sky was a dusky grey, but the sun could be seen barely peeking out from over the horizon. It was also quite chilly- or what Carmen would just call cold. Maybe she should’ve brought a jacket. Carmen pumped her bike pedals with urgency. According to Google Maps, it would take her 25 minutes to get there on a bike. But being late would only incur the wrath of Mrs. Sokolova, which never ended well, so she should definitely go fast. The suburb where Carmen lived flew by on her bike, and then she was riding along the main street.

Exactly 18 minutes and 46 seconds after she had left her house, Carmen pulled up in front of the construction site with a squeal as she pumped the brakes. She got off her bike, opened the gate (was this where she was supposed to go in?), parked her bike on the inside, and then headed to where she saw everybody else. She wasn’t last to arrive, thank God. It was never a good idea to be late- it just drew attention to yourself.

Although she had about a million things on her mind, Carmen tried to keep her mouth shut as she approached everyone else. “Morning, ma’am,” she said to Nadia, who just gave her a curt nod and gave her the same directions she had given everyone else.

Oh no. This is a combat exercise?!. Carmen gulped and felt her eyes widen. The last time she had had to engage in combat… well, that was in Timbuktu, and she shot a car with a bullet instead of her target. No one had gotten hurt, but it had set off a car alarm! Well… practice is perfect. A resigned sigh. She picked a pistol and a nightstick out of the bin, fastened one of the vests onto herself, and went to join the group.

Director Sokolova was, as Carmen had learned in some arduous ways over the past year, well-known to be a hardass. So, despite the mass of questions were brewing in her head, she elected to remain silent as Nadia explained the exercise. It was better to not have your questions answered than have an irritable ex-KGB Russian woman with a paintball gun be mad at you. But this exercise did leave a lot of questions to be answered, and against her better judgment, Carmen found herself raising her hand… right before Ben got shot. Ow. Her hand went right back down to her side in a hurry not to be noticed. That must’ve hurt. Poor Ben.

Once Nadia was done explaining the exercise, Carmen went to go join the rest of the responders' team. As she plodded over, she thought. Erik, Ben, Oliver, Vanessa, and her, hm… it wasn’t a horrible mix. She hadn’t looked into most of her teammates’ strengths and weaknesses, but she knew the basics. A plan started to formulate in her head.

While they were walking over to the group, Carmen glanced at Ben and jammed her hands in her pockets. “Are you alright?” she asked, low enough to not let anyone else hear. He had become a fast friend to Carmen in the past few months, and friends checked on each other when one of them was in pain.

Carmen had opened her mouth to start talking just before Oliver did, but closed it shut when he started speaking. She listened along to his plan and nodded along. That was pretty much what she was going to suggest but in far fewer words. “That’s a good plan, Oli- I-I mean, Agent Static.” She really needed to stop calling people their real names. “I was thinking along the same lines, but you definitely know everyone way better than I do! I manage okay in combat, but I’m probably better as a distraction. I don’t have any suggestions. I don’t really want to spend my Saturday cleaning paint with a toothbrush, though. I have studying to do.”

Well, that was a lame finish, Carmen! Couldn’t have picked something cooler? She winced and pulled her hair up into a ponytail with her scrunchie. She waved a goodbye to Erik and kept an eye on the building.

It looked like she was getting shot today.




Before Chad could respond to Jamie beyond a smile and a wave, Joseph called out to them. "Hey, Jamie! Chet! You guys got any plans on what to do yet? Because I don't really have any ideas except sleeping, or waiting for Starbuster to finish unpacking so I can obliterate him in beach volleyball." Jamie waved. Now they had a proper little group going!

“Joseph!” Jamie’s smile stretched a little wider at the sight of her friend. Oh, it was nice to see him. They hadn’t gotten to talk or hang out in a while- work had been getting in the way, as always. She clapped him on the shoulder, perhaps a bit harder than necessary. “I don’t really know what we’re gonna do. I was just asking Chad if he wanted to have a bit of fun.” She gestured to the teenager in front of her, eyes on Joseph.

"Actually, my name is Chad... Uh, I'd love to hang out with you guys! I was going to go to the gym, but I'd be cool with building sandcastles or playing Volleyball!" Jamie waited for him to continue, knowing that to interrupt would be rude. Duh! But Chad paused and stared off into space for a few moments more than normal before appearing to snap back into himself. "I-I'm pretty good at Volleyball though, so watch out haha..."

A dramatic gasp from Jamie. He had to be kidding! “The gym? On vacation?! You must be crazy. I don’t even go to the gym while I’m working.” Jamie shook her head and made tutting noises. “Come on. We’re gonna go have some fun and play some volleyball. We don't have even numbers, but it's not really that big a deal. We'll just do a 2v1 or maybe a three-way. I’ll race you to the court!”

As soon as she finished her sentence, Jamie was off, jumping off the boardwalk and onto the sand, running as fast as she could to the volleyball courts. Unbeknownst to her, Chad had super speed, making his win inevitable, but, well… racing was still fun!



If she was being honest, Calypso had been in better hotel rooms. Not by much… but better.

The coven had purchased two rooms for them- the one Calypso was in and also the one she had declared the girls’ room, and the one she had banished Caleb, Arken, and David to. This one was objectively better. It was bigger… and, well, that was it. It was mostly bigger to accommodate the pull-out couch by the window, but there was also a whole extra chair! How fun. Just like the other room, theirs had two queen-sized beds, a desk, a TV, a coffee table, and a small minifridge. Calypso assumed that everyone knew the universal rule of “don’t take anything out of the minifridge”. They’d charge you for it!

After checking in, Calypso had dashed to the room with the speed of a cheetah on cocaine. She was the first inside, but rather than put her bags on one of the queens, she plopped it onto the pull-out couch. Just to be nice, you know! It was right next to the window, too, which was nice. She’d get a good view of… Calypso opened the curtain, and frowned. Brick wall. Great. But she could totally see if there was a vampire outside of their window. Totally.

Calypso sat on the stiff, leather couch, and watched the door as the rest of the girls trickled in. If one of the guys walked in, she’d abruptly yell “NO!” and point to the other end of the hall. Once everybody was in, she smiled and started to talk.

“It’s an… alright hotel room! We’ll have to share beds, unless someone wants to sleep on the floor. Kota and I can share the pullout couch, and the rest of you… well, you can figure it out! I say we get some pizza and we invite the guys in and we try to guess where the vamps will show up next,” Calypso said. The thought of sharing a bed with Dakota made her feel a bit tingly, but she wasn’t quite sure why. They were friends, and sharing a bed with your friend was normal. Right?

It took a few hours, but once everyone agreed on their sleeping arrangements and started to settle in, they ordered pizza, and Calypso spread a map, a laptop, the mission folder, and a few pins across the coffee table. She then cleared her throat. It was time for a brainstorming session.

“So…” she started, and opened up her laptop. God, she was glad she had brought this thing. Typical of Calypso, the laptop was covered in cute stickers with plenty of positive messages and bright colors. “Could somebody get the guys in here? I wanna talk about what we’re gonna do tonight.”

Once the guys were ushered in and the pizza had come, the door was closed. Someone made sure to cast sound-sealing, warding, and locking spells on the perimeter of the room, which Calypso was sure she would’ve totally forgotten if someone hadn’t remembered for her! With a slice of cheese pizza in hand, Calypso opened up the laptop, logged into the Wi-Fi (it took a minute), and started to browse through the news.

“I think we should be looking for obituaries and news about strange assaults,” Calypso said. A few people were gathered around her laptop, while most of everybody else was either fucking off or looking at their news too. “If we find a hit on an obituary matching the causes of death, we can find where they’re buried, and… uh, go there! Because the vampires will probably be there. Right? We know what we’re doing. I don’t think we should fight them just yet, but we should totally follow them and see where they’re going.” Calypso explained her reasoning in a rather unsure manner. She really didn’t know what she was doing, and anyone’s suggestions would definitely be welcome.

Calypso ran a hand through her cloud of hair, and kept browsing the Internet. It took about 20 minutes, but the group finally found a hit. In the Baltimore Sun, there was an article about the assault and death of a 22-year-old woman named Madison Hawkins. According to the paper, she had been at a nightclub a few nights ago when she had been found in the bathroom, unconscious and with two puncture wounds above her collarbone. The cops had attributed it to her being drunk… but Madison had been the designated driver that night. She had died two days later in the hospital of a mystery illness.

Of course, witches knew better.

As soon as she saw the article, Calypso knew they had found their hit. It was sad, but… it was just what they needed. She didn’t smile, but she did smack a pin down on the place where the article said she was buried. “I think this might be it,” she said. “It matches up. We should go there tonight, I’m thinking.” The group talked about it for a while, and eventually they agreed on how they’d go about staking out the cemetery. Arken, Dakota, Iris, and Rebecca would sit in Arken’s car and wait outside to see if any vampires showed up, while Calypso, Alayna, Hana, Iris, and Caleb would actually head inside the cemetery, cast an invisibility spell over themselves, and maybe get to watch some vampires dig up a body. And then follow them home. And then probably go home themselves.

When that was settled, they finished off the pizza, gathered up all the weapons and a few stake-out snacks, cast a spell so they wouldn’t be seen by the hotel staff, loaded themselves into the cars, and drove off for a graveyard stake-out.




A few hours later, around midnight, the two groups had been waiting in the graveyard for hours. The vampires still hadn’t shown, and Calypso was starting to get a bit frustrated. Nobody had spoken in the actual cemetery for nearly 30 minutes. The tension and the exhaustion hung low in the air, although their eyes were still peeled.

The cemetery was tightly packed with graves, but well-kept. Polished headstones and freshly overturned dirt marked the area they stood in as housing newly-dead people. There was a chapel on the hill, but it was far off, and the groundskeeper was nowhere to be seen. A lamp lit much of the sidewalk and some of the graveyard, but the area they were in was nearly pitch black. Calypso, Alayna, Hana, David, and Caleb stood under the boughs of an oak tree near the grave of Madison Hawkins. Calypso’s eyes, at least, were drooping. They were still under the cloak of the invisibility spell, and she had been carrying the brunt of the spell’s power for about an hour. They had planned to stay here until 2 AM, and each had agreed to carry it for about an hour. Her hour wasn’t over yet, however. So Calypso pouted and simply kept holding up the spell.

She had been stunned by the power of the wellspring a few days ago, but even now it felt a bit lacking. Being in such close proximity and coming off of almost zero power had made her feel high off of the new, foreign power for a while, but now it felt almost normal. A few days ago, she wouldn’t’ve been able to do this wide of an invisibility spell for even 15 minutes. But now, that she could do it? Calypso felt herself wanting a little more. It was strange.

But for now, they were on a stake-out. Calypso leaned back against the tree and sighed. If nobody was here by 2 AM, they’d go. That’s what they had said, and it was starting to look like no one would come.

God, this was such a waste of time. Why, oh why had she thought this was a good idea?

Just when Calypso was considering going back to Arken’s car and trying to bum a cigarette off of Dakota, two figures came walking through the grass, making a beeline straight for the grave they guarded. Calypso’s eyes flicked up, her attention caught. From what she could see, they were two men- both pale, but one shorter than the other. And more human-looking than the other. The shorter one had brown hair, what looked like green (or brown?) eyes. The taller man was pale, dark-haired… and he had eerie, red eyes. Calypso shivered. Those were them, alright. Red eyes… he must be old. The shorter man was carrying a duffel bag and a sealed canister of some sort, while the red-eyed vampire walked unburdened in front of him. They spoke among themselves, softly.

“This bag is heavy, Dmitri,” the short vampire complained. “Why can’t you carry it?”

The red-eyed vampire- Dmitri, Calypso guessed- chuckled. “I am your elder. If I say you carry it, you carry the bag. Now come. Her grave is just right over there. We shouldn’t keep Ingrid waiting for long.” He pointed in their general direction and Calypso froze in fear, but then realized he was just pointing at the headstone.

Calypso stayed still as a statue as they approached the grave. Her heart thumped in her chest like the roar of a lawnmower. Could vampires hear heartbeats? She hoped they couldn’t. She glanced furtively at the other witches standing around her, all under the invisibility spell she was holding. Oh God, she had to hold the invisibility spell. Calypso put extra willpower into keeping that up, squinting as the vampires grew closer.

The shorter one dropped the duffel bag onto the ground and pulled two shovels out. He presented Dmitri with one, which he took. Calypso sucked in a breath. They were going to dig up her body!

Dmitri plunged his shovel into the ground… and then stopped. He raised his head, and cocked it. “I sense another presence here,” he said, and Calypso’s heart hammered against her chest.

No. Vampires didn’t… they didn’t have magic! They couldn’t see them, no no no…

The younger one suddenly looked interested. “A human?”

“Perhaps. Whoever they are, they’re close. I can feel something else here. Another sort of energy.” He started to walk right at the tree, and his horrible red eyes focused right on them. Hungry.

Calypso’s eyes went wide. Fuck. This could not be happening right now. She sidestepped, quick, and ushered the group along with her. They needed to get out of here, now.

But before everyone could get away, Dmitri swatted at the group with his hand. Calypso didn’t know how, but it was almost as if he could… sense where they were. He had a sick smile on his face, and on his third swat he landed someone.

Hana. Calypso’s mouth went dry as his long fingers closed around her wrist, and lifted them to his mouth. He wanted to bite her. In Calypso’s shock and terror, the invisibility spell broke. She felt it shatter around them, felt her magic break. They could see them. The younger vampire stared right at the group of them. His fangs popped out, and he smiled.

“Witches!” Dmitri yelled loudly while yanking Hana’s wrist to his face.

Then, in a flash, the younger vampire pulled out a dagger and darted at them, quick as lightning. A slight female figure appeared out of seemingly nowhere and joined the younger vampire in darting at the witches. Calypso took a fighting stance and started to cast a spell. She had been hoping this wouldn’t happen, but it seemed they had no option now other than to fight.




Arken’s car was parked on the side of the road, lights off with everybody inside. Calypso hoped they had thought to cast an invisibility or even a night-seeing spell… otherwise, sitting in that dark car would get old fast. The car was parked so that both sides could clearly see the cemetery gate, the walls, and the sidewalk beside it. On the other end of the street, there were apartment complexes facing the cemetery. It wasn’t a nice neighborhood. After all, who would want to live next to a cemetery?

They had been sitting there for a few hours when there were six flashes by the gate. Maybe someone got out to investigate. Maybe someone didn’t. Whatever happened, three of the figures jumped the fence, and the rest just stood by the gate, idling.

Eventually, there were screams from the cemetery. The vampires on the ground and the group in the car could hear Dmitri’s warning shout, and some ensuing screams from the witches. The people whispered among themselves, seemingly wondering if they should go and assist.





Gary, North Carolina was a small town. For most, it was only a rest stop on road trips, or a stop for tired truckers. As you exited the freeway and drove into town, homes with large properties would begin to pop up in the countryside, gradually growing closer and closer together until you were in the town square proper. That’s where the group would find the Williamson’s Inn. Or, well, motel. It was a motel. A shabby, run-down place with a neon sign on the front. Jean-Luc’s Audi probably looked quite out of place compared with the atmosphere there. Moldy walls, the ice machine, the dirty pool, and the flickering neon sign all created a certain vision of the place. The ‘am’ bit of the neon sign had lost power, so it just spelled “Willison’s Inn”.

When they got there at 10 PM, the town was dark and quiet. The only places with lights on were the motel, the nearby dive bar, and a 7-Eleven down the road. When the group would head inside to check in, there was an older, scruffy-looking middle-aged man sitting at the desk, watching TV. Checking in didn’t take long. The man was brusque and gruff, but getting their keys only took a moment.

Both rooms had two queen-sized beds (which looked slightly questionable) with floral bedspreads, stiff, squeaky mattresses, and yellow-ing sheets, but one of the rooms had a pull-out couch. The carpeted floor was also questionable-looking, and They both had doors and windows that faced the parking lot, and both doors had deadbolts on them. That likely wouldn’t be enough for the witches, though. Wards and magical locks on the rooms and cars would probably be set before they went to sleep, too. Somebody probably went to go get food. The only places open were the 7-11 and a McDonald's five miles down the road. It seemed that there were a few more restaurants in town, but none were open at that hour of night.

However, it was late, and maybe they all wanted to go to sleep. Driving for 8 hours was a pain in the ass. Or maybe they went out to go and do something, hunt some vampires. The night was their hunting grounds, after all.


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