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Recent Statuses

2 mos ago
Current I've gone back to school, so responses are going to be slower than normal for the forseeable future.
4 likes
2 mos ago
"Show them I'm the judgement call, the one who makes a kingdom fall."
4 likes
3 mos ago
"But! I should have known better. Nothing ever stays dead..."
1 like
6 mos ago
"There is no one in this room that can stand against me! The Hand of God be my witness, I am the Voice from the Outer World!"
11 mos ago
Took me 10 years to realize antagonists are way more fun to write.
8 likes

Bio

Your Local Antagonist

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°



Showcase:




"A million times I have done this charade. The moment people figure it out, I get the boot." she thought.

"But don't you want to see the fear in their eyes when they see who you really are...? Don't you want dominion of this place, just like how you were unchallenged in Vaal Kastrix?" said the Voice.

Ciara scoffed, immediately thinking of Gulliver and Valen. "I'd love to wipe the smirk off their faces."

"It starts by building a rumor. A rumor of power. This could be the place to start."

She took a deep breath, narrowing her eyes resolutely at the Undermage. "Head Advisor, with all due respect, you have no right to ask me about my intentions. If you want answers..."

She stood from her seat, rising to her full height.

"You'll have to duel me for them."


~*~
Iris Ascendis Roleplay (2023) | TikTok Tribute




Her breath caught when she felt the cold metal of a pistol against her temple.

"Put the heart down, and back the hell up if you want your friend to live," the guard said to Ellie in a rumbling baritone, digging the gun into Dream's head.

Dream squinted at Ellie, vision blurred as she tried to breathe. The heart, glinting in Ellie's hands.

The doctor, his face turning white every time she asked what would happen if they failed. Above all else, he said, they had to keep the heart safe. They had to, even if it meant...

She snarled, her boot stamping down on the guard's foot, a burst of light bruising the bone. He yelped, losing his grip. That's all she needed, and she tore away. But in her haste, she saw his free arm reaching for her, and she slipped on panicked feet as he pushed her off the railing.

She held back a scream, staring straight down into the boiling pit below. The guard wrapped a tight hand around her ankle, and Ellie could see Dream's other foot flailing; she restrained herself poorly from kicking the guard, desperately hoping she wouldn't die.

As her captor supported himself against the railing, his pistol pointed at Ellie.

"I'll drop her, I swear I'll drop her!"


~*~
TENEBRAE: The Rebellion of Shadows Roleplay (2021)




We have a RPer Appreciation thread?
This is beautiful, I'll bookmark it. (2016)
Another kind comment. (2024)
This is what makes it worth it. (2024)
I'm grateful for the ride. (2024)




Deep, golden orbs stared back at her from within the cave.

God, she couldn't breathe.

He was monstrous. The ground trembled under her feet as his rippling, massive body exited the cave. Thunderous footsteps left cracks in the dirt, his breath sent waves of heat creeping over her skin. The transformation was slow, but it looked like something from a nightmare with the way his long teeth were bared.

A great and terrible roar sounded from his gaping maw.

She needed to run. Now.


~*~
Academy 218 Roleplay (2014)

Most Recent Posts






Halloween Festival, Near the Haunted House
Mentions: @Punished GN, @AtomicEmperor







And just like that, Britney left. Along with Sabrina. Layla wasn't sure how she felt. Relieved?

No.

Abandoned?

How sensitive was she?!

Well, currently, exceptionally. It wasn't Britney's fault, some of the coven members actually really depended on her.

”Don't get soft on me, sweetheart.”

Layla stiffened, and turned her face away as Britney and Sabrina left.

I'm gonna stick around with Layla, make sure that we spread the firepower around a little bit, y'know?"
Mr. Devola


That piqued Layla's curiosity. She remembered… she remembered what she knew of Mr. Devola. She had met him near the beginning of the fight against the snake, when she was still so little. Never feeling comfortable calling him by his first name, she had instead opted to call him by his last.

Her gaze shifted to look up at him. Was he really concerned about ensuring everyone was safe? Or was this… something else?

What had Linqian whispered to him? Why had they acted so secretive for a moment?

And… Did Mr. Devola consider her weak? …He’d be right. For now, if she could help it.

Layla pursed her lips, and tried to shrug the thoughts away as Mr. Devola spoke.

"So how have you been, Hon? Not sure if you remember me at all, but my name's Greyson. I didn't see you at the meeting the other night, you not want to show up? You didn't miss much."
Mr. Devola


“I was there… briefly. I guess you would have missed it, I had a new buddy with me.”

She sighed. “Only Anya seemed to agree with me. She's got her head on straight, I'll have to talk with her again. But I was… uhm… called out before the meeting concluded.”

She paused, wondering how much she could tell Mr. Devola. Did he know anything? She… she hadn't had a chance to talk with Miss Vorpal again since their first fateful meeting. No, that wouldn't take place until sometime after the festival.

Maybe she wouldn't talk about her new friends. Their plans. But she could maybe share some of the burden, some of the pain in her heart, yes?

Maybe… At least one other Sycamore member would get how she felt. Because currently, it felt like the world was against her, and she was alone.

Betrayed and alone.

Brutally betrayed and alone.

Layla clenched the cloth of her bee costume before she held up a wrapped hand. The bandage was removed, unwrapping layer by layer until Layla showed Mr. Devola what was underneath.

Fresh, deep bite marks marred her skin, cuts and tears of sharp teeth blemishing porcelain skin.

She held it for a moment, before quickly wrapping the bandage again, hiding the marks. She didn't want anyone else to see.

Rage bubbled in her, tears pricking her eyes.

“They took… Everything from me.”

Arms wrapped around herself, still feeling cold despite the wringing out Sabrina performed.

“Now… Now everything is back to normal. What my life has been for the past twelve years.”

A sick laugh escaped her throat. “Maybe I should thank them. Who was I to think I'd ever be free?”

The laughter died out, and Layla hung her head, staring at the ground.

“We should… uh… move to the Haunted House.”

Before she remembered.

“Oh, uhm…” Now she felt a bit awkward. “Were… there any more leads given during the meeting? Anything I missed?”

What if she was missing something crucial?




Isabella Blackthorn &


A collaboration with @NoriWasHere


The Night Before…




Isabella Blackthorn stood on the cold night, the tiny ember from her cigarette lighting up her face. She grimaced before blowing out a smoke ring. Tonight was a big deal for Mother Cards.

Why?

Well, the new paintings they ‘acquired’, of course. Apparently they were an entire set, and everyone, especially thieves, knew your haul was more valuable when you had every candy in the tin.

She held a small briefcase in her other hand, containing everything she would to make this deal go as smoothly as possible. They were artists, they would dig this, she had no doubt.

Isabella flicked her stubbed cigarette down, stomped it out, and glanced at the parking lot. A car idled in the darkness, her ‘bail out card’ in case things went south.

Doubtful, though. No one ever complained when there was money to be made.

A scowl settling on her features, Isabella pulled on the brim of her hat and stepped into the building.

As she stepped through the door a small, hidden button captured Isabella as she entered the building. The halls were empty, but a few stray heads leaned out random doorways watching the arrival of a potential client. Right in front of the door there was a large painting of a road that stretched to the horizon. On either side of the road there were soldiers in armor, some with guns, and they numbered in the hundreds. On the road a small black dot began to grow larger. It was hard to make out at first but soon it was clear enough that a singular person was walking down the road in the painting, and as it grew larger the painting began to shimmer. The face of Alex soon appeared through the painting, and they stepped out of the painting itself.

“Welcome,” Alex spoke as they raised their hand towards Isabella, “to the 317.” It was well past their normal closing time however Alex was roped into this deal. Good money could be made, money that could be put back into the community and money that would help expand their operations here. They were skeptical however, did this break their rules on staying neutral? Would this bring unwarranted attention back on themselves? All Alex truly knew was that Faith had agreed to meet, and that it might take a lot of convincing to make a deal.

Isabella watched with intrigued as the painting shifted, and an entire person came out. Abstractions really were a wonder to behold, she thought.

Taking a step forward, she shifted the briefcase to the other hand and extended her free hand forward in a handshake. “Miss Blackthorn, at your service. Thank you for seeing me.”

She glanced around the lobby before her gaze returned to them. “Will the boss be joining us tonight, or will it just be us?”

“The boss is expecting you,” Alex responded as they waved for Isabella to follow. They walked back to the painting and they pressed their hand on the frame. The painting shifted slightly in front of their eyes, a second path splintered off from the main one, leading to a staircase down towards the bottom left of the frame. “Alex,” they gave their name with a weak smile, and offered their hand for leverage, “you’re not going far.”

Alex knew the meeting was on site, and they knew that keeping the layout of their operations a secret was needed, but it was literally one flight of stairs. Sometimes they did not understand the needlessly dramatic flair. Faith said it was to demonstrate the ability to transport people, assets, and more to and from the venue discreetly, and to Alex that made sense. But who would want to walk through a painting on the first meeting?

Isabella watched carefully as the painting shifted, then stared for a longer moment at Alex's outstretched hand. She couldn't tell right off the bat how this abstraction worked, but it was clear there was a lot of power in being able to move freely in and out of paintings.

Her head tilted curiously. Where did the stairs lead? What if this was a grand ploy to kidnap and trap a House of Cards member?

C'est la vie, mademoiselle. Isabella thought with a shrug before she took the hand offered.

“Good, good. I'm looking forward to this, Alex.”

Alex took a step into the painting, and turned back to face Isabella. “Do not stray from the path, do not interact with anyone but me, do not make any threatening gestures towards anyone else or me, and do not linger.” With that said, Alex turned around and entered the painting in full, pulling Isabella as they did. Alex was the first through, and as always the inside of this realm was a perplexing place. The soldiers that the painting had shown on the outside were very real now, and they flanked Alex on both sides of the road. In the distance, they could see several square and rectangular outlines. These were dormant paintings that they’d paired to this one in the past, and the outlines were barely visible now. The path cut sharply to the left, leading to a staircase that descended downward to darkness. At the end of the darkness was another rectangular portal, much like the one they just stepped through.

As they walked past the soldiers, a light went off in Isabella's mind. This was how the 317 managed a part of their security. How convenient to have full control over the ‘doors’ of their abode, especially when it came to less than legal activities…

The thought almost made Isabella smirk. Almost.

She stayed in step with Alex as they descended the staircase to the next portal.

As they neared the portal Alex looked back and saw each soldier staring directly at Isabella. All were equally annoyed at the outsiders presence, but content with the fact that they would only intrude on their realm for a short while longer.

“Hurry up now,” Alex stopped before the portal, “the boss is waiting for you on the other side.”

There was a scowl on Isabella's face as she felt eyes on her. The painting really was alive, after all.

She glanced at Alex as they stood in front of the portal, “Best not make them wait.”

She adjusted the collar of her dress, and stepped through without another moment's hesitation.

Isabella would be greeted by the sight of six paintings, all on the corners of a hexagram rug, with the painting she stepped out of being a short distance away. In front of these paintings an ornate chair was positioned to allow those who step out of the paintings a comfortable view of the show. In the middle of the rug an empty display case was positioned.

“So you must be my appointment,” Sypha spoke up as she left her office. “Sypha, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Miss Blackthorn, the pleasure is mutual.” Isabella said as she stepped through the painting, regarding the room and the regal person approaching them.

She gently held out a hand for a handshake before nodding to the office. “We have much to discuss today, in a deal I feel will be beneficial for both parties. Shall I follow you?”

Sypha was once again dressed well. She had on a vintage purple dress, gloves, and her overcoat was still on.

“Yes, please. Step into my office,” Sypha said as she led the way inside. She sat down and crossed her arms. “So. So you’re looking for a place to make a sale. Tell me more.”

Isabella smoothed out her dress as she took a seat across from Sypha. In one swift movement, she set her slim briefcase on her lap, rolled over the numbers, and clicked it open. A photocopy was place on the table, containing a snapshot of oil paintings framed in carved wood. Another photo was placed, showing a singular painting with an English countryside as the subject.

Isabella gestured to the photographs. “The late Arnold Turillo crafted paintings beloved to the auction house and the art scene in St. Portwell - an esteemed figure such as yourself would have heard of him.”

She gave the collection photograph a tap. “Now, his singular paintings are valued fairly well. $50,000 here, $90,000 there. But-”

She held up a finger, then drew an imaginary circle around the collection. “When you have the entire set, the estimated value skyrockets. We've calculated it to be worth about $1 million.”

Isabella paused, then carefully leaned forward in her seat.

“What we need is a fence to sell the collection as a whole. In the bustling art scene of St. Portwell, I know this won't be an issue for you.”

Now was the kicker. Isabella set her face straight and serious as she spoke.

“We're willing to split profits 70/30. Or…”

It was set unfairly, giving them only a sliver on purpose. To encourage them to choose the second option.

A gleam in her eye.

“We give you the entire profit. We only ask for one thing in return. One of your… in-house artifacts.”

Sypha slid backwards in her seat, losing their pristine posture for just a moment. Their eyes slid from the photocopies, to Isabella, before back to the photocopies. If these were authentic, then the estimate was mostly correct. If they were authentic. They’d need to verify that first and foremost. The question, as always, was what the turnaround time would be, and what kind of exposure would this cast on their lowly art collective? These paintings were well known enough that it’d be the actual government coming for them, and they had resources and tools to track down those paintings. A million dollars would be a decent amount of money for the collective though so Sypha was still interested.

And they knew the first offer was a joke, and they knew it was meant to be as such. That begged the question, which artifact could they be after? They needed more information before they could continue. They interlocked her fingers as they leaned back forward.

“Which one?”

Isabella's answer was quick, without hesitation, betraying a slight excitement that was devoid from her face.

“A bound monster and its object. My boss tells me it's your organization's… lesser-known speciality.”

A single smirk crossed their face. Finally. Sypha leaned forward as they reached into their bag and grabbed a small notebook. “Well,” Sypha paused as they began to write, “Let’s say your boss is right. The paintings are your foot in the door,” they paused as they leaned back, “a cover charge for the party if you will. If you want to dance I’m happy to talk more about the cost of the event.”

Isabella nodded. She came prepared to empty the Cards’ coffers on this deal. Mother Cards specifically said that this particular deal was of the utmost importance for the future of the Family, and their plans to enact Void's last will and testament. Isabella had full power to direct and seal this deal, from the mouth of the Mother herself.

“Sypha, you have my full attention.”

“To start, you’ll need to provide this” Sypha paused as they slid the notepad across their desk. It was a single sentence and it would be one that Sypha knew would be much harder for them to acquire. It was ‘one evil person’ circled several times. “you’ll need to find the base. The worse the better and you will need to prove that they’re a bad person.”. Sypha paused as she pulled the notebook back and wrote down a large number. “Second, we’ll need an additional five hundred thousand dollars as a deposit. We’ll split the painting seventy thirty, seventy to us thirty to you, when the collection sells. A return on the deposit if you will.”

Isabella picked up the notepad briefly, eyes narrowing slightly. An ‘evil person’ would take some time to procure, but she could think of a few places to start.

She nodded at Sypha's next statement. “A deposit can be done at a moment's notice. Cash, wire transfer?”

A slight pause, before Isabella held Sypha's gaze carefully. “Sixty forty, and you got yourself a deal.”

One of the first rules of business was to never accept the first deal. A little haggle, and everyone would be satisfied, she was sure.

“When do you need the base by?”

“I’m firm on the percentage,” Sypha paused as she sat forward, “And we can’t move forward with the spell until we have the base. The sooner, the better. I will reiterate, we need someone evil. I expect you’ll bring proof to verify this.

Isabella paused for a moment, before she nodded. Within the briefcase, she pulled out a checkbook. In elegant, practiced cursive, she wrote out a check for $500,000, signing the back and leaving the recipient blank. With a crisp tearing, she held the single check out to Sypha.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Sypha. I have the paintings on stand-by, we can transfer them over to you tonight.”

“Likewise, we’ll be in contact I’m sure. Alex!”

Alex was waiting on the other side of the door, ready and waiting for their guest to get bored and leave. Sypha shouting was the alert and Alex opened the door and motioned for Isabella to follow. They led them back through the painting, back out the the other side, and watched as they exited the building.

@Blizz Oooh, DMs.
Nice, I'll add it in.
So I just found Adora...







Halloween Festival
Interactions: @Punished GN, @AtomicEmperor, @FernStone




Being told to ‘buzz buzz’ only put a sour look on Layla's face.

"Hi, Ms. Nour, I'm Sabrina VANBUREN,"
Sabrina


Layla blinked as she held onto Britney's sleeve. Did ‘Vanburen’ mean something? Did… Sabrina have ties to the scum of the world that was the 8th Street Coven?

Then her eyes darted to the black cloth growing in Sabrina's hands. Her intrigued was piqued as she considered Sabrina's abstraction having more than one application…

Of course, a lot happened in that one moment. By the time she looked back, Linqian was freezing Vashti, and Vashti… Vashti was about to take a shot at Linqian!

Layla took an audible gasp, sucking in snow and rain as her eyes widened.

“No need, Ms. Vanburen, no need! We're just fooling around,”
Vashti


And just like that, the situation de-escalated. Or so it appeared. But with the crocodile who appeared high off her rocker, and who ran with the packed dynamite that was Emily, it was hard to tell.

“Which reminds me, if you see Sloane tell her to drop by the manor again tomorrow.”
Vashti


That caused a small spike in Layla's blood pressure. ”What?”

Was Sloane fraternizing with another coven? Layla hoped that Vashti was just trying to sow doubt between members, and Sloane in fact hadn't done so.

But… why did it matter to Layla?

Layla swallowed painfully.

If Sloane’s ties did in fact lie elsewhere, this was a risk that needed to be looked into at some point.

“Love your costumes by the way. Very cool. Very, very recognizable. Real easy to spot even in this weather.”
Vashti


The thinly veiled threat increased the pained grimace on Layla’s face. She watched carefully, with the wide eyes of a stunned deer, as Vashti slowly took her bear and shambled off.

Her eyes glanced to Britney, then passed across the group to Linqian and Edict. Before she noticed Linqian stand on her tippy toes to lean into Edict's ear.

Why do they look cute together?

Layla stared for a moment longer, before shaking her head and looking away. Linqian had given her a look. The kind of look that was a mix of contempt and smugness.

Does she know?

Layla suddenly felt sick to her stomach, arms crossing over her body. She felt so powerless… So. So… empty.

Fuck.

Her anger bubbled up briefly. She felt sick of feeling so powerless. Just because she didn't have hands. Just because she didn't have her companion to protect her. Is this really what she had reduced herself to? A sniveling, shambling girl?

Her lip curled into an unconscious snarl as she glared at the wet ground.

No. She was better than this. She had to be.

Perhaps a talk with Miss Vorpal was in order. Perhaps another talk with them was also in order. She needed some semblance of control. Some semblance of power. Some semblance of… Of… Of… well, it was her quiet secret. But perhaps… she would find herself quite busy after one little night of fun. She'd hang around a bit, and call it a day.

The devil waited for no one, after all.

”Though going to a haunted house at our age is fucking lame without getting absolutely wasted first.”
Linqian


Layla swallowed for a moment, breaking out of her thoughts before she offered a sheepish smile.

“I don't know if I feel comfortable getting drunk in the open. Not with… Everything going on.”

Yeah, everything. No need to elaborate on that.

“You all can get drinks, I'll wait. Then we can go see some spooky ghosts? Try to forget some… not so great people are here too?”



Elys Adair

Oratorio, //O3 - The Pallid Mermaid
@ERode



The crack across the skull told all. A direct hit, that sounded like it would be an exceptionally hard one to simply walk off.

“I’ll tell ya where a naked blade can be best used.”

Elys listened as the cylindrical mass was placed on the floor - a bucket. Her lips gently pursed as she heard the scraping of cloth and boots on worn wood. The one-handed man was thrown out, and she had no way of knowing exactly how close to death he was.

Serves the bastard right.

She stood there for a moment, the chatter of the tavern swirling around her as she considered the bucket in front of her.

She was willing to kill rats, was she also willing to wash floors for a lead?

She was used to taking whatever work she could find to scrape by, be it bodyguard duty or eliminating pests. Surely, she could do this too.

There was the promise of a lead afterward, and the mess was partially caused by her, anyway.

The only question left was how to start. She couldn't see what was on the floor. It could be painted roses for all she knew. The rest of the patrons seemed to be minding their own business enough that she'd have free reign to tackle this her way.

And she at least wanted to avoid having to wipe down the entire floor.

She could see the steps she took in battle in her mind. The likely direction of the spray of blood, and how it trickled and was wiped as the man was thrown out. So, there was likely a blood trail on the floor around the bar, which then led out to the door.

She would give more of a buffer to the trail, just in case she was off her calculations and missed a spot. But the owner would at least not say she didn't put effort into cleaning up her own mess.

She gathered the hem of her robes and held them at her hip, to the side so as to avoid the wet floor as much as possible. Her staff was placed leaning against the bar, and a careful ‘eye’ was kept on its mass. Stooping down and following the scent of blood, she reached into the lukewarm water, found a cloth, and proceeded to wipe up and down on the worn wood. Her hand wasn't practiced, but she still took the time to give the surface an even wetness.

She followed the presumed trail, scrubbing back and forth, going a little extra out of her way to ensure the floor was still cleaned if her assumptions were off. It took more time, but she was a stranger in this city. She needed a lead beyond simply diving head first into the Abyss that called her, needed to know what she was getting into, and needed to get to know her new home.

How could she share her influence without even knowing the people of this dizzying place?

So, she scrubbed. She scrubbed until her hands ached, and then she scrubbed a little more. Finally, she had cleaned every part of the floor she had wanted to. With a slight sigh, the cloth was dropped into the bucket, and the bucket was returned to the owner.

”I've done what I could. If there's spots I've missed, you'll have to mark them with your feet.”

She picked up her staff from the edge of the presumed bar counter.

“What can you tell me?”

Thank you, ma'am, indeed!

She didn't like him to be in pain. She didn't like anyone to be in pain.


Still warm at heart, even though she's upset with her father. Again.

She was a walking Kintsugi piece. Beautiful, whole, but still more fragile than before.


I could picture this perfectly. I've heard of these pieces of art before, nice use of imagery! :>

After a stumble, he collapsed on the stairs with ragged breathing, fighting hard to not lose consciousness.


Noooo, Theoooooooo!!! (So dramatic, I absolutely adore it.)

That means it's Angel's turn now!


Ciara Ventura

Acendia, Room 103 Fountain
@Nanaya



“Right. It's a win for you guys, you punched a hole in my PB."

The moment the professor said that, the adrenaline and endorphins that were masking the pain of Ciara's injuries pulled back like a scabbed bandage, reopening the wound. Ciara hissed where she was on the ground, dropping the borrowed sword numbly.

"I thought it'd be a lot to ask for day one, but you all pulled through. Nice work.”

Ciara blinked where she was. The professor was back to his old self. Or, was his ‘old self’ just a mask for who he truly was - what she truly saw - when he was on the battlefield? How he shamelessly associated her with Umbralists. Now what? Was she just supposed to forget that?

Ciara narrowed her eyes, a sour taste in her mouth as they claimed victory.

"Let me go! I was almost able to really teach him a lesson. Then he'd learn not to take us so lightly."

Ciara's scowl deepened, and she roughly held Chloe down. “It's over, stand down.”

"Thanks for that. I'd have done it myself, but apparently I overestimated where I stand in comparison to our 'amazing' instructor.”

Rio's response surprised Ciara, and for a moment she was at a loss for words. Positive reinforcement wasn't something she was, well, entirely used to.

She stared for a long moment, before offering a weak shrug. “It's nothing.”

After Rio heartily chewed Chloe out, Ciara slowly released her, satisfied that she was finished and they could put this messy battle behind them. Ciara shakily got to her feet, removing a sock, tearing it into two strips, and tying the gashes at her inner elbows with the help of her teeth.

It was with a bandage half in her mouth that she caught Iraleth's eyes, and the subtle nod. An understanding. Ciara gave a nod back. It took two to pull off the final move. One to restrain Chloe, one to restrain the professor.

Of course she admired the light. Of course this upcoming duel would be more challenging because of it.

But she couldn't afford to lose. Even if rebound took her that evening.

With the pet missing and the professor bribing everyone with a pizza party back in 'their world’, Ciara found herself listening carefully to Otis's words.

“Follow the dark.” Thought the Voice.

“What if the dark one is wrong?”

“So? It isn't tasty, not like the light.”

Ciara bit her lip. The Voices referred to the pet, of course. Expendable.

She considered her options for a moment, before she picked up her sword, re-established her barrier, and glanced at the professor.

“Ready.”
Thanks for the update, Days! No rush!



Cracker Island, Halloween Festival
Interactions: @Punished GN, @Atrophy, @AtomicEmperor, @FernStone




OY, WE’RE HAVING A FUCKING PRIVATE CONVERSATION HERE, BRO! SHIT!"
Vashti


“It's your lucky day, sweetheart.”

Almost immediately, Layla was torn between letting Britney get taken away into what couldn't possibly be a good situation, and stepping in.

No, bad thoughts. Everything is fine, remember?

Layla's lips pursed. These two had history. Bad history. Nowadays, if Layla was correct, Vashti ran the 8th Street with Emily. bad news was as bad as it gets.

Nothing compares to my last week.

“Some way to greet an old friend, Vashti.”

Near immediately, she flexed a hand, and… nothing. No phantom hand. No easy power in her complete control and grasp.

No Void.

Layla swallowed, feeling the weight in her heart, before she placed a hand behind her back. The rain couldn't be a good sign. It never was, when it came to Vashti. If push came to shove, she could offer Vashti a gift. Surely no one would miss her…

Still, Layla hated to rely on an unstable power, and she suddenly felt… a lacking of Void. In the sense of having a second pair of eyes on her, watching, playing the role of bodyguard. She had relaxed in his eyes, after they fought.

Now? She was alone, Britney didn't have the Noble Vow, and Layla couldn't even rely on her own curse.

She gritted her teeth, hating her helplessness.

"Clear the fuck off, Nashty Hoor, before someone calls animal control."
Mr. Devola


That's when Red Riding Hood and a mafia boss joined the crocodile, beekeeper and two bees.

Layla felt a bit of reassurance, seeing neutral coven members coming to their rescue. Neutral as in they knew nothing about what happened last week. At least… She was fairly certain. How fast did word travel around the coven…?

A queasy feeling seeped into her gut, one that wasn't easy to shake.

”Focus, sweetheart.”

Layla took a breath before giving a wave and smile. “Mr. Devola, Linqian. You have uh, good timing.”

She paused, before she held onto the sleeve of Britney, frowning at Vashti.

“Go away.” She said, eyes narrowed.

Her gaze turned up to Britney. “Let's just go, Britney. I wanna see the haunted house…”
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