FernStone

Recollections: Primal Sinister

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Interactions: Open
1pm. South Side, By the River

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Getting nearly killed at work had its benefits: namely, getting off early. After a short nap, Vin had enough energy to go back out on some personal business.

They were investigating rumours of a medium offering to summon loved one’s ghosts.

Eerily similar to what their mom had done… Something Loni could do too. Vin knew it definitely wasn’t her, but she was part of the reason they were investigating. If Loni somehow caught wind of these rumours she’d freak out. Vin didn’t want that. She could barely deal with the Black Lux they had. So they had to squash them.

The question was con artist, or genuine Black Lux user?

The latter was more interesting, and came with a secondary motivation: get rid of the competition.

The location of this ‘medium’ was an abandoned warehouse just off the river. Calling it a warehouse now was generous, with Nyrah the ravager taking it and its neighbours out. A small section of this one survived, and the broken walls of that section had been ‘rebuilt’ with wood.

It was a smart location. Along the river front was a neutral area. No gangs ran it… at least, not this section. There was too much of a risk when the North Side might be able to see. Not that they needed another excuse to want to bulldoze the lower district…

Didn’t matter to them that it wasn’t a Hollow area. That hadn’t stopped them before. They’d spent their whole life beating up people with little care for what gang owned where. Who would come after them now?

Vin narrowed their eyes as they rounded a corridor onto the ‘waterfront.’ It wasn’t as quiet as they’d hoped: people trying to fish in the river, others doing questionable business behind half destroyed warehouses. Well, whatever. Everyone knew to look the other way here.

There were even more people hanging outside the warehouse hideout of the ‘medium.’ About five lining the wall. At a glance Vin could tell they were all sad. People with very little in their lives. The kind they could easily ignore.

“Oy. Ain’t you see there’s a line? Mystic Melinda don’t take line skippers.”

Vin was stopped from immediately entering by a burly arm. They didn’t bother hiding their snicker at the name. Mystic Melinda? Seriously. Fucking hell. Could’ve at least gone with Mystic Mel, to make it just a little less shit.

They slowly turned to face the bouncer- nothing more than a hired thug glowering at them. For a moment, Green Lux sparked underneath their skin… but they stopped themselves. There were too many people around. If any were One-Eye open they’d have to deal with that. Worse, one might have a fucking beast person fetish!

They couldn’t deal with that again.

Vin stared at the man, then smiled. ”Ain’t obvious, is it?”

Before there could be a response or a fist for talking shit, they stepped out of arm's reach and made their way back past those five people waiting. They settled in at the back, pulling out a cigarette and lighting them.

Two in one day… Loni’s gonna kill me.

It was frustrating they had to wait, but whatever. They had time to kill.

Iron and Honey: A Love Story [FernStone & AtomicEmperor]

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Act Two-Three

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Monday November 19th

Home

The week and a half after the assassination attempt, things fell into more of a routine. The two easily slipped into peaceful domesticity. At least, as peaceful as things could be. Casey still had work, and that still involved the Temple and long, awkward hours. But Trisha had the slowly starting honey business to concentrate on, and a contracting job she took that resulted in her working over most of the nights Casey was too.

So even when they weren’t exactly in the same room, they were close.
There were the nice constants. Going to bed together most nights, or mornings. Naps, cuddling and kissing on their big couch. A couple more low-key dates.

But as they moved into the second last week of November, it was like Trisha’s mood suddenly dropped. It wasn’t that she was short with Casey or anything, just much quieter in the morning. A bit distant. She brushed off any attempts to find out what was wrong, before escaping to the Greenhouse for the day the bees ‘needed checking up on.’

They didn’t, but sitting beside the large hive as they flitted to and fro comforted her down enough to think.

She knew what was wrong. Thanksgiving was next week. The holidays. Family events.

It was always a big trigger for her, together with Christmas. She started to sink down into a mire as the day creeped closer, and struggled to keep her more sullen side down. How could she when filled with dread, irritation and hopefulness about a call that would never come?

Year on year it was the same. A day she was forced to spend with the Vanburen side. Always an elaborate meal, always arguments, and occasionally a father during her first fourteen years. The numbers changed and reduced, out of town siblings rarely bothering to return for it… but it never changed the event.

She’d managed to avoid it the four years she was in University… but not since she was back in St Portwell. Attendance was required when in the city. Tansy insisted. She had enough material on them all to get her way.
Who was it going to be this year? Her, Tansy, Ezra, Sabrina… No, Sabrina ‘accidentally’ had an out of town fashion show. Just Tansy, and her oldest siblings. Even worse.

The initial calm from the bees presence backfired as she got more lost in her thoughts and her anxieties. A whole evening being torn apart. A whole evening without Casey, because he’d definitely be spending it with his family. Another family focused day where she’d be left feeling so alone… and it would happen again. Christmas. Then next year. She hated it.

How did she even talk to him about it? She couldn’t just open up and say ‘I’m feeling shit because I know we’ll have to spend thanksgiving apart and I really don’t want to.’ It sounded ridiculous and needy. It was just one evening…

It was late afternoon when Trisha dragged herself out of the Greenhouse and back to their house. She’d thought, felt worse, then tried to distract herself with the bees. But eventually she ran out of stuff she could fuss over… She just needed a distraction. Something to bring her mood back up a bit so she could pretend everything was fine till the dreaded event was over.

Thankfully her laptop was already in the den. She grabbed it, climbing onto the large couch and shuffling all the way to the back. There she curled up into a tight, tense ball, laptop beside her where she pulled up one of her more mindless games. It was good enough for distracting time wasting.

As for Casey, the particular day had him training a new class of security officers for the Temple. That meant he was out early, and was able to pass any mundane office duties off to Theo and Norm for the time being. Out early meant home relatively early, leaving the other instructors below him to take care of actual class administration for the evening schooling sessions.

Hence he was home. Doing what? Learning how to properly cook. Bags of ingredients, magically enchanted bowls and spoons and sieves; the kitchen looked like a Phantasia scene from top to bottom, and if someone hadn’t been in a bad mood, maybe she’d appreciate the harmony herself. Casey’s eyes passed from the pan of broccoli he was browning to the pot full of caramelizing sugar that he knew was too fucking hot. He didn’t even have to flash the thermal spell he had to know that, having familiarized himself with the smell of burning sugar back in the war.

Some people had the most amazing spells…

Turning the heat down, he still had a moment to admire the amber sap in the pot as it slowly congealed together into an even darker and thicker slop. It was meant for some flan, the custard component currently bubbling away in an oven-heated water bath. Ramekins were full of the sweet sticky pudding. Two were colored differently, marking out the ones that had been made with special Andrade ingredients.
There’d been another argument about that, though this time things seemed to be fully settled. Hence why he was so dedicated now to the action of cooking. He wanted to show Trisha that he was completely fine no matter what…

Even if he could feel the side effects creeping across him. Even if he knew that old layer of Oblivium had finally encompassed his stomach lining. It was fine… Oblivium wasn’t what killed people like them. A mostly aesthetic side effect that could very safely be ignored so long as one knew what came next. And Casey knew. The whole Richoux clan knew what second stage Oblivium infection looked like. They’d all lived through it and beyond.

She would too, if it came down to it. She’d be fine. He knew she’d be fine, because she was Trisha Vanburen. Tough as nails, smarter than the phone in your pocket, and backed by three very different royal dynasties. If anyone was set up to succeed, Casey was sure it was her. The love of his life.
Her mood shifts obviously hadn’t escaped him, and he blamed their last fight on that same problem. A dying joy, but seemingly zero intention to actually address the situation as it stood. Obviously he wanted to know why. To understand what the fuck the problem was so he could fix it.

But she wanted to fix things herself generally. She loved his company, but the occasions that saw his hand sweep down to guide usually wound up with her slapping the hand away. He got why she was aggressive about it… But also felt like she’d never get over any of it if she didn’t actually come clean.

So lost in thought, Casey didn’t notice the figure standing outside the glass front of their home. He hadn’t realized he was being stared at like a zoo animal from outside… Rather than moving from his busy post to open the door, his gloved hand flicked slightly. With a gentle pop, the door creaked open, letting the smiling face outside into their domain.

”Wooooow… Uncle Dre, eat your heart out huh?”

Casey laughed in return. Looking at his baby sister, he felt a little happy. She was clean today, didn’t seem lethargic or anything. She was dressed like she’d either been somewhere, or was planning to go somewhere. Slacks, nice close-toed shoes with heels, a blouse and a jacket. She and their older sister Elise found business attire in totally different styles, but Casey always preferred Mia’s sense of chic without her being overly pretentious. Elise sparkled, and while she always looked like the goth prom queen, Mia just looked…

Fun. Like she was the person advocating for the things others would be too scared to advocate for… Or maybe he was projecting.
”Yeeeeeah… This is my latest quest for knowledge. It’s gonna make Trisha feel even safer. And honestly, fuck- If it turns out I’m good?”

”Hey, nobody ever said you were a bad cook. Remember that Mother’s Day where you asked Uncle Dre’s help to make her that custard she likes?”
Casey grinned and lifted the caramel pot to show her the familiar substance.
”Oh, damn! Are they in the oven?”

Casey nodded his head, a smile on his face.

”Well that’s pretty cool dude… Uh, did you… Hear?”

”Probably, what?”

Mia took a deep breath. She looked a little nervous telling Casey this.
”Mom is going outside the family for planning this year's Harvest Feast.”

Casey nodded, thinking about it for a moment. He’d gotten the memo, sure. But hadn’t had to interview any event planners or anything in substitution. Curious, he took a mental note of the situation. At least the chicken was done, and he pulled the butterflied breasts from the pan to deglaze with a bit of cooking wine.
”Do you have any hand in it?” he asked casually, scraping the fond from the pan before letting the alcohol ignite to burn it all off.

”Yes. Technically. But, in all reality, Mum’s at it again.”

At it again meant so many things to Casey. Rather than verbally ask, the look he gave Mia encouraged her to continue.

”Actual outsiders. She’s obsessed with these, uh…”
Her head swiveled around the room, vaguely catching the sensation of Apparitional Lux deeper in the house. So she leaned across the island and whispered.
”Vanburen. There’s this bigwig event planner, and I’m pretty sure she’s related to Trisha.”

Casey’s face turned from casual interest to abject horror in a moment. He couldn’t hold it in. There was one last long pause, then his voice echoed through the house.

”........ Trisha!? Baby, come here real quick!?” he called.

It took a moment for Trisha to appear from behind the closed door to their Den, as if she was buried deep within a larger house rather than one room over. Her reluctance came from not particularly feeling up to talking to anyone yet, nevermind someone outside of Casey. She’d heard Mia and him talking, even though she purposefully didn’t pay any attention to it.

She was hit by the smell immediately. It smelled nice. Not that she’d expected Casey to be bad at something he put his mind too just… it was still a pleasant surprise. As she paused at the far end of the island, she had to actively order the bees crawling about her shoulders to stay where they were. Their instinct was to fly towards the caramelising sugar- something she couldn’t exactly let them do.

“Hey, Mia.” Trisha smiled slightly, raising a hand in a half wave. At the same time she moved around to the same side as the island as Casey was on, shuffling towards him. Then her body fully turned towards him, head tilting up.
“What’s up, Babe?”

It was pretty clear she wasn’t in any way out of whatever off mood she was in. There was that constant push and pull in her mind: seek comfort, or hide out until things improved. Even with all of the breakthroughs they’d made in a relatively short period together, she wasn’t comfortable with sharing. That fear of being rejected hadn’t been miraculously fixed. It was just easier to withdraw into herself for a little bit.

Mia waved back, all of a sudden far more uncomfortable than she had been giving Casey this news. Nothing had happened recently to make her nervous of Trisha, but she knew the look without any kind of White Lux interfering. Something was desperately wrong, and from the dream Mia had a few nights previous, this was only going to potentially make it worse. Interpretive things weren’t so bad in dreams; one could jump themselves into any logical direction they wanted.

But dreams that were like that? Déjà vu? She could only brace herself… The curse of prescience. The curse that she wanted to repress.

”So… Mia was just telling me about uh… The Temple’s current Thanksgiving plans.”

Mia felt words leaving her mouth before they even had.
”It’s the Harvest Feast for nerds like us. Y’know, pseudo-pagans.”

Casey laughed. At least he could dance around the topic a little longer.
”Which we’re not… Like, you know our-”

”That’s the point of the joke, dude. Why do you always make people spell it out? Takes all the air out of it.”

Casey playfully pouted, getting a couple of plates out of the cabinet and putting them down to start plating his and Trisha’s early dinner. They’d both be up later anyway, and that probably meant getting something delivered. It was easiest that way… But he could make sure they both got a good home cooked meal every day.

”Sorry… Anyway, we were talking about plans. I’m not sure what you had in mind, but uh… Ceremonially, I have a role to play. Like most of the things we do. I don’t want you to feel pressured like you have to go or anything… But I do.”

At the mention of Thanksgiving, Trisha immediately tensed up. It was like she was trying to curl up into herself. She just couldn’t hold back the reaction when it was a large part of why she was in such a bad mood.

Temple plans? Great, good, she definitely needed to hear about those. She loved hearing all about the things Casey would be doing while she was stuck at a dinner table between a boring business man and the most vapid, fake woman in the city. Sure, she’d known even without the role he’d be doing whatever his family- and Temple- were doing. It didn’t mean she wanted to hear about it. Not today.

And it was more than that. A role to play, like most things they did… that meant future events too. Christmas, fine, same situation. But the Temple was a magic pseudo-pagan pseudo-Catholic cult. That meant they might have ‘festivals’ or whatever for all the other days. Days leading up to it, days after it.

The twenty-sixth.

Trisha’s lips pressed into a thin line, and her gaze moved down to glare at her feet. Perfect. That would be so perfect. And this was what she’d been trying to avoid talking about. She couldn’t even pretend that she was completely unbothered by it all!

“I have to spend it with my family. If I don’t, Tansy will leak something I did as a teenager or whatever to the press to make my life harder. So I guess we’ll be spending it apart.” And she sounded absolutely thrilled about that.

Casey’s face turned to abject horror instantly. Mia’s, not so much. She heard it before. Wished she hadn’t. Couldn’t help it.
”To the fucking Press? Did you like… Beat an old woman to death or something!? Babe!?”

“No!” Trisha didn’t raise her voice, but her reaction was obviously agitated. It wasn’t like it actually mattered what Tansy leaked.
“Probably something about underage drinking or other shit- I’m a Vanburen it doesn’t matter if it’s minor, they latch onto it. Then they try find me, or they go to Ezra, which is just as bad.”

”Jesus… Well, like… Uh-”

Get it over with, Casey. Get it over with. Rip the bandage off, please.
Mia stared daggers at her brother now, waiting for him to stop faffing about with his food and avoiding the issue at hand.

”-Trisha… I think Lynette hired Tansy to plan the Temple’s events for the day. The Harvest Mass, and the Feast afterward.”

Casey’s voice hitched up as he was trying to find some slow way of breaking the news. The news that, for all intents and purposes, there was something strange afoot.

”And I’m certain that she knows who we are. That you’ll be there…”

Words like doom hung in the air. Casey could only watch Trisha now. The sugar was going to burn… A spoon magically stirred it, but eventually he’d either have to turn the heat off or risk it turning into leather coating the bottom of the pot. But he’d already felt the tension… For days he’d felt the tension.

Has this really been it? Fucking holiday trauma?
”Hey, what’d I say? I don’t want her feeling pressured like she has to go. If we need to keep a few deadbeat reporters quiet? What’s she gonna do?” Casey asserted.

It was very difficult for Trisha to stop herself from turning around and shutting herself away in the Den. Her body trembled slightly as she forced herself to take a deep breath. She was doing so well at not overreacting. Amazing. Great job not looking absolutely unreasonable in front of him, Trisha.

Of course Lynette had hired Tansy. But maybe that was better. If Tansy was busy organising a massive cult festival, she wouldn’t have the time to bother Trisha about her attendance. Trisha could just spend the day in bed with her phone turned off. No, on, just in case.

But… that meant Tansy near Casey. Near his whole family… some people who she was beginning to like. Mia herself, Hari, Ed… And Tansy was so good at making people believe her. Even if they managed to see through her falseness there were so many real things she could share. The kind of things people like Lynette probably already knew thanks to the digging but… fuck. Fuck!

“I don’t…” Trisha scowled. She didn’t, what? Want to attend? Want Tansy to be let loose? Be here at this moment? All of the above? Why couldn’t she just handle it. It wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t even that important. So why the fuck couldn’t she calm down over it?
“She’s just working, right? Planning it. She’s a good event organiser, if you can deal with her being a bitch, so I’m sure she’ll do a great job. If she’s been hired like that it doesn’t mean she’ll be attending. Not properly. It’s not like she’s actually invited, right?”

Casey’s face turned to Mia expecting some kind of confirmation.There was confirmation alright… The sullen expression told the tale of a nightmare come true.

”Mom was far too pleased for it to be anything that simple.”

He could only imagine her smug excitement. The prospect of landing the entire Vanburen legacy in one net… What was the obsession? Worse, was it chance? Or was there really some divine hand that wanted things to be like this, forcing Lynette’s plans into motion without any sort of ramifications…

”So, what? Invite whatever other member of the Vanburens will attend because she thinks they will? That’s bogus… It’s not like they’re like that, right Trisha? You… You said! Nobody’s really that close, right? Even if it’s just Tansy there, I mean…-”

He paused a moment before snapping his fingers.
”Oh! I’ve got it! There’s this girl in the Temple? Total doppelganger, can mimic anyone. We let you stay home, and she parades around as you all night! So we never have to deal with anything! What do you think of that, Baby?” he was desperate to remedy the situation however he could.

“Mimic me completely? Like, dragging twenty four years of memories out of my mind so that she can fool my older sister who makes it her job to know everything?” Trisha shook her head sharply. She wouldn’t let someone in there. And without that, how could anyone mimic her enough to fool someone who’d know her since she was born?
“And- and then she’d have to pretend to be with you! Tansy’s already seen how we are- and I don’t want that. That’d be worse. I don’t want someone else t-to hold your hand and hug you like that. Or to pretend to be me.”

She tried to take a deep breath, but it got caught in her throat. It felt like everything was working against her. Lynette, Tansy… Forcing her into the kind of event she hated. Putting the focus on her. It was something she’d desperately wanted when she was younger, but not like this. This was to mock her. It was just to tear her back down… when she’d finally been getting comfortable. Too complacent.

“Ezra will probably go too. Tansy will make him… he cares too much about appearances.” Her tone was flat as she tried to suppress the beginnings of a panic attack. Over this of all things. Just suppress, suppress, suppress…
“He knows it's a cult… I’ll need to go. Otherwise- I don’t know. Something will happen.”

She dragged her eyes up from the floor, glancing at Mia then Casey with a forced, obviously fake smile. Calm down, pretend to calm, pretend it’s not an issue, stop making it such a big thing when it shouldn’t be-
“It’ll be fine. No big deal, really.”

Casey wasn’t so sure. Mia… Recoiled in horror. There’d been a much bigger fuss in her dream. More yelling. She had cringed the moment that Casey said something about Mary-Lee, and had imagined that was going to be it. The end. But now she was in unknown territory again. A rare moment where her clear visions were wrong. She bit her lip, then shook her head.

”You said your brother cares about appearances… Why would he buddy up to a cult then?”
”Most people don’t think we’re a cult. We don’t keep leashes, remember? People are free to come and go? The outside insulates the interior? I know its hard to misconstrue that from our position, but… We’re just fuckin’ Methodists to those people, no different than the modern progressive Church.”

Mia gripped her face in strain. She’d never worn a cross around her neck, so it was hard to remember they were still a branch of the Levantine religious tradition. The whole thing often escaped her, and she could only nod in understanding. For Casey, he completely understood why Trisha had a problem with the plan. Thus, the plan was gone: Time for a new one.

Moving around the island, he took Trisha’s hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulder to comfort her.
”Y’know what? You’re right. It will be okay, Babe. It’s gonna be fine, and we’re gonna make the best of this. Listen… If this is really happening? That means Mom wants the Blinds involved too… There’s no way she’d only invite magical people to an event planned by a mundane person. Which means that we’re definitely gonna be breaking tradition this year. Maybe that’s good! Maybe she’s willing to break from all this because she wants us to be the hosts! That means we can do what we want, right!?”

Mia was always surprised at her brother’s ability to be positive. Like he always had another plan tucked away, or a pivot on the heel of his shoe. Slowly, her face became brighter until she was looking at Trisha with a calm, soldier-like affirmation.

“Yeah, then we can make it work for us. So it’ll be fine. No magical cult stuff, or bending to one person’s whim… Better than if we were apart, right?” Trisha managed to sound, and look, like she was alright with this new plan. Her scowl lessened to a more neutral look and her voice was more even. But Casey would be able to feel that the tension in her body hadn’t gone anywhere. All that coiled energy was still there, one push away from exploding into the smothered panic attack. Right now, she’d just managed to detach herself. Because she’d only look worse in front of them if she kept reacting.

It was her favourite technique: suppress, ignore, pretend everything was fine until she could run away.

It was true that being with Casey was better than not. But it was still a family holiday suddenly made bigger. The kind of place where she was always made to feel less than. This year there’d be even more people to do it. It would probably be worse. She didn’t want to host. She didn’t want that attention. Such was her conflict: hating when there was no attention, but also when she had all of it. Because it was always bad.

“Sorry for overreacting.” Trisha looked up at Casey for a moment, before her head turned to Mia. Pretending the issue really was put to rest for her. She definitely wasn’t going to sink right back down into the mood that had been hanging over her the moment she could.
“Especially to you, Mia… My family’s just difficult. You, uh- did you just come up to tell Casey about thanksgiving?”

Mia bit her lip.
”I… Really didn’t want it to be all. But if you need some time to figure things out, I understand. I was hoping to-” Get it over with. Assumed it would all be gone. Relieved that you’re even still standing here talking to me. “-I don’t know… I guess intrude. I had no real plans.” she said, shrugging and standing.

”Though, one thought I had was a gift. But, your birthday is next month, right? Gin told me. Its a wonder how the Hell she knows, but I can just save it for then… Like I said, I just-” don’t want to be alone. Nobody’s downstairs, except them. Don’t make me leave. “-want to make sure you have your private time. And, honestly, it’s really not that much of an overreaction. It’s your family, y’know? I certainly don’t want to get them involved, especially not like this. Whatever I can do to help, I’m here.”

Trisha tilted her head slightly. Why… Why was her birthday being mentioned? How did Gin know? Probably from the fucking Sycamore fanclub. It shouldn’t be a bad thing. Maybe people would actually remember about it this year. Be around. Maybe it’d be the same as always. And a gift? For… no reason? She was confused by that too, and it was enough for her to push down the panic just a little.

Not get rid of it. Just suppress it further.

Her instinctive reaction was to say yes, she did want private time. She just wanted to forget all about it. Pretend it wasn’t going to happen. But she had a feeling that after Mia left Casey would want to talk about it more. She didn't want to talk about it. She wanted to be with him, yes, to hug him and get comfort in his presence, but he'd want to talk to. She knew he would. Then… there was the food. Her head turned slightly to look at it. The full meal that Casey had made for them.

A meal she really didn’t have an appetite for. But she didn’t want to upset him. Not when he'd worked so hard cooking for them. The hint of warmth she felt from the effort helped her not just entirely withdraw. She could force herself. It would just be easier if there was less.

So yes, there was something Mia could help with.
“Well… since you came all this way, you may as well stay for a bit? Maybe you can eat with us- you can have some from my portion, I don’t really eat much.” She wasn’t able to look at Casey as she offered that. Because she felt bad about it. She knew he’d noticed her poor eating habits, and was trying to make sure she didn’t keep just not eating on days she forgot or didn’t want to.

“And yeah, my birthday is next month. I guess Gin’s gotta know for her fanclub? They probably have detailed sheets on all of us or something…”

Mia’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. She looked from Trisha to her brother, then back.
”I don’t really have to eat, like… I don’t want to take food out of your mouths!”

Casey’s brow furrowed, but then he looked down at the two plates. They were practically identical… At first he wasn’t sure what the problem was; he’d even gone through the trouble of dealing with his raw meat discomfort by getting familiar with a whole unroasted chicken… He’d touched it! Separated the skin from the meat while it was still raw, just so he could get the butter and garlic and all the good moisturizer and flavor underneath and into the meat!

But then he looked at Trisha, and then the plate again…
He’d split the entire chicken.
One half was sitting on his plate, and one half was on hers. The exact same. And the exact same mound of pan-roasted broccoli, three bread rolls without special flour on the side…

”Dude, you’re so fucking right… I didn’t even think about you not eating that much. Next time, I’ll split your portion in half and put it in the fridge so you can have it again the next day…”
Without questioning any of it, he got Mia a plate and her own silverware, and she happily sat down at the island to eat.
”You two portion it out…” he laughed.

Mia smiled and nodded, sliding the empty plate to Trisha for her to divvy out as she pleased.
”Can you uh… Go get the subject while we do this?” she asked across to Casey.

He smiled and nodded, then made way for the den where he knew their new friend had last been located. Mia was still smiling at Trisha.
”Thank you, by the way. Sharing your food means a lot in our family.” she giggled.

“Really? It’s… never really been a thing in mine. But you’re welcome.” Trisha smíled back, though it was obvious she still wasn’t fully relaxed. There was still a tension in her shoulders. But she was doing a good job at suppressing it. It would come back… but she could get through dinner. Maybe even cuddling with Casey after, if he didn’t try make her talk about it. Out of sight, out of mind.

She went about splitting the food on her plate between the two. The chicken was split perfectly in half, because Trisha had seen how much effort Casey put into it, while Mia got more broccoli and two bread rolls. Casey had said about splitting the portion in half next time but… half a portion was still a bit much.

“There you go…” Trisha moved away to sit down, leaving the spot in between them for Casey. It meant she was looking across from Mia, head tilting slightly. Her bees meandered about her shoulders, a couple slipping down her arms towards her plate.
“What do you mean by the ‘subject’?”

”Well, not bein’ nosey… Casey said you guys had a nice date out on Misty! Said you went to the carnival? Got yourself a new friend?”
Mia’s face was bright with excitement. She’d not done this in so long… Worried if it would be as potent a spell as it had been in her youth, she was thinking about a particular moment in her childhood to project with the spell. A moment of supreme confidence she hadn’t had when she’d last casted it.

”As it turns out, I have a thing for toys. It started with Casey, actually. He’d sit with me when I was a real little girl and play with his little army men. He’d call me ‘Private Mimi’ and we’d make believe that we were in charge of the army… Cute little kid stuff. When I Kindled, I would make them come to life and run around. Let Casey tell them what to do, and they’d do it. We’d spend so many hours some days that I’d pass out from using too much Lux.” she giggled.

Casey’s pounding footsteps meant he was headed… Upstairs? There was a lot of rummaging, then excitement as they could both see his fist raise up over the bannister of the loft. In it was Princess, Trisha’s massive new stuffed bee. Then he was making his way back down in a rush. As expected, Princess was tucked under one arm. However, in the other was a very old plush triceratops. Its horns and crest were tamped flat to its body from years of being held tight to his chest. Mia only lit up more.

”Stompyyyyyyyy!”
She got up, running to meet the stuffed dinosaur like it was an old friend. Wrapping her arms around it, Mia quickly went for her pocket and pulled out the hat to stuff onto her head. Before she could even get it on fully, the stuffed animal was already growing and growing in her hand.

Setting it down, its legs grew and its body became re-defined with rigid properties. The triceratops expanded rapidly until it was the size of the island they sat at for dinner, and then… The construct named Stompy showed Trisha exactly why he was named that. Rearing back, Stompy’s no-longer-plush footpads on its forelimbs smacked up and down on the floor of her home. It was hard to tell what the reaction meant at first until its swinging tail upended a lamp and sent it crashing into the floor.

Mia and Casey both laughed, and Casey handed Princess off to Trisha before raising his hands.

”Woah, woah! Good morning, big guy! That must’ve been quite the nap! Are you happy to see us!?”
The construct let out an elephant like blurt, stomping its front feet again in puppy-like excitement. Casey beamed at Trisha.

”Trisha? This is Stompy! Stompy… This is Trisha!”
The construct didn’t care… It was too wrapped up in its own nerves to pay much mind.

Trisha wasn’t entirely sure how to react to the triceratops in her house. She flinched slightly at the loud crash of the lamp tumbling over, before managing to calm down and take Princess. She hugged the plush bee to her chest.

At least it seemed… excited to see Casey? Like a massive dinosaur puppy. A plushie magically brought to life… It was hard to not end up smiling softly at Casey’s happiness. His smile just brought her warmth even when she was feeling off. The tension in her shoulders softened a bit.
“Uh, hello Stompy. Nice to meet you.” She slipped off her chair to move over to Casey, looking at the construct with a slight smile.

She then tilted around him a bit to look at Mia.
“So you can make toys move, and… grow and come to life as bigger versions of what they are?” She gestured to Stompy.
“That’s really cool. Are you planning to do that to Princess?”

Her eyes moved back to Casey, jokingly pouted.
“And you didn’t tell me in advance? You’re just springing the magical moving toys on me?”

Stompy’s front horn on his beak gently nudged forward to Trisha, bumping softly into Princess and backing up. His tail hit the nearby chair, causing him to swing around and kick the table near the fireplace. Casey had an instantly nervous look on his face and reeled back, pushing up and placing his gloved hand on the construct’s side. Like a size slider, he slid his palm down and brushed against Stompy until he was the size of a small dog.

With an almost intelligent indignance, the little thing looked back up and began to stomp all fours by hopping up and down. Casey laughed.
”Sorry little man, you’re making a mess.”

As he scolded the little thing, Mia stepped closer.
”It was only my plan if you wanted it. Obviously, I can’t force you to accept. And I wouldn’t expect you to if I were you either… If I saw my mother, I wouldn’t trust me either. I mean… I don’t.” she laughed through the sad expression that cropped up on her face.

”My point was, I have a memory that would make a particularly stable Forest Friend. Something I think you could benefit from. And when Casey told me it was one of the big oversized carnival animals, well… Everything’s better when you have more room to work with.”

Trisha looked at Mia, eyes narrowing slightly. She’d have to be blind to not notice her expression. Trisha wasn’t really the comforting type… she had so many of her own problems she barely made a dent in. But she was trying to be a bit better.
“I don’t not trust you because of your mother.” She paused, frowning. That didn’t come out right.

“I don’t mean I don’t trust you.” She didn’t, entirely, but that wasn’t Mia. It was her. Trisha didn’t fully trust anyone. Casey was the closest, but even then… she couldn’t say she completely trusted him when she was still scared he’d turn around and leave, could she? But the last time she’d said something similar to Mia about her view on ‘sisters’ it hadn’t ended well.
“I do… as much as I could for how long we’ve known each other. I definitely don’t think you’re going to put some kind of White Lux spying on my bee plushie like your mother would.”

She offered Mia what she hoped was a comforting smile, though it fell a bit flat. But it was clear she was trying. Trying to be as honest as she could be, to make Mia feel a bit better, and to not let her own background bubbling issues get in the way.
“I’d like that. For you to do the same to Princess… I was just joking about it being sprung on me.”

As she spoke, Trisha crouched down, holding out a hand towards Stompy hesitantly.
“Uh… how long does it take? Maybe we should eat first?”

The miniature monster happily rolled off its feet into Trisha’s hand, scratching its back along the ridgeline and promptly flipping back over.

”Really? Wow… Uh… Do you… Do you think the Queen would want any help? I know for a fact that I can easily joint-cast this spell with other people. Apparitions. The last time I used this was for Ren, so she has a friend sometimes.”

Casey couldn’t help but smile and laugh, both at his little old friend playing with his beloved Trisha, and at his baby sister’s excitement. As soon as he’d shown her a picture of it, she had expressed wanting to do this. So, he was more than happy that it was happening.

”Let Trisha figure that out over food. Sit, eat. Have a couple of these too.”
He’d baked himself a massive batch of rolls with Andrade’s specially provided ingredients, and the bulk of his nutrition from the meal would come from them. Everything else just… Tasted good. Six of them was all he really needed for dinner, so he slid a few more to Mia. She didn’t eat so much, even with their condition… Mostly on account of her own personal condition.

She eyed them, then looked at him and grinned.
”Real Andrade behavior now, huh? Y’know, whenever we got a letter home from the Government while you were serving, Mom would always say that we got a letter from the ‘baker.’’

Casey laughed and smiled.
”Oh, dude… Before you were born, or like when you were really little, I used to spend way more time in the kitchen with that guy. She used to call me ‘The Little Baker’ because I would always beg him to make the croissants, and so we’d make them and I’d come home with a big fuckin’ tray of them. Dad would eat them all.”

Then they both laughed, and Mia stopped herself with a bite of Casey’s biscuits. She chewed, and chewed a little more, then swallowed with a little difficulty. Casey laughed, having started to split one and fill it with butter before she could stop herself.

”Dude, moisturize it. It’s still bread dough, it’s not like I magically made it not the driest thing in the world.”
Laughing, he filled the steamy and fluffy interior with a slathering of butter and stuck a piece of chicken into it as well. Then it was gone in a single bite, with him chewing on it again and again.

He did smile at Trisha, pleased with himself for cooking something tasty.
”The same goes for your rolls, Babe. Put some butter or something inside, or you’re gonna need a glass of water.” he giggled.

“I’m going to need water anyway with all this food…” Trisha laughed slightly, smiling back at him. She reached for the butter, splitting one roll in half and spreading it across it. Even with her portion split with Mia, it felt like a lot. But it was also food that Casey had made for them.

She hadn’t had a proper home cooked meal in a long while. Not since she was in university, when Cass got so sick of her ordering takeout that she ended up cooking for the both of them. Her and Diyah took turns, while Trisha just paid for most of it. So it felt nice, and she didn’t want to waste it, even with her lack of appetite and another person eating with them.
When did she ever have an appetite anyway?

“Mm, it’s really good,” she commented as she dug into the chicken first. It looked like it was where the most effort had been put in, so she concentrated on eating it with her now buttered roll first. If she couldn’t finish the broccoli… it wasn’t the end of the world.
“It’s unfair. You’re already attractive, dependable and empathic… but now you can cook too? Leave something for the rest of us to do, Case.”

”I’m functioning at a pretty high level right now. Don’t worry, it’ll balance out.”
He gave a very ominous smile across the table at Trisha, eating another biscuit sandwich. But Mia laughing made him laugh too. She had a chicken leg in her hand, and was half way to actually taking a bite when he made the joke.

”He’s kidding… Well, maybe not with all the brain stuff, but he never gave us trouble in the few months he’s been home. Besides being a little nosey, but… I forgive you.” she smiled warmly at him, and he replied with the same.

”Though, he’s kind of always been like that. Insecure, you know? Our Dad told us that the only way to fix that feeling is to earn it… And that our family had been ‘earning it’ for eight hundred years, but that’s not the point! The idea was always, if you don’t feel good doing something, do it more. Practice, and learn, and get better. We were supposed to feel better getting there.” she chuckled to herself, clearly not believing in the philosophy.

”It does work for some of us. Cooking for you-” he pointed at Trisha with his fork. ”-makes me feel good. If I keep learning how to do more, naturally I’ll feel even better. Its hard if you’re prone to failure spirals, like…”

”Yeah, yeah. You try living with what goes on in my head and see how long you can keep up the positivity.” she shook her head, but was still smiling.

Trisha nodded slightly - it wouldn’t be obvious to the other two what she was agreeing with. Mia, more. The whole ‘try until you get better’ thing sounded nice until you tried and tried and never got anywhere. Failure was just inevitable at that point, so of course the more you failed the more it’d affect you.

“If you don’t get better no matter how hard you try, it’s natural to spiral,” she offered, as if it was some kind of comforting agreement rather than the story of her life.
“I have a friend who struggled with something like that. Always seemed hard... So I’m glad you don’t, at least, Casey.”

Casey’s face turned into a frown. It was empathy, of course.
”Eh… I am lucky like that. I guess when I put my mind to something, I can do a good job of perceiving the slow and steady progress of improvement. I’m not really intimidated by messing anything up over and over again.”

”You don’t have Daddy’s voice constantly booming in the background when you do this.” Mia intoned, finally taking another chicken bite.

”That’s probably it. I’m certain that’s why I was never worried about Drillstaff when I was in basic training either. In the FFL, some of my officers spoke French and would Drill in French. It actually was… Comforting. But, I’m also certain that’s why I spent so much time with Uncle Andrade as a kid.” Casey’s finger casually tapped at his temple as he spoke.

”You know it’s crazy to think about what kind of a guy he is sometimes. Never once have I heard him yell. But that time that those Nazis made it down into the Temple’s halls?-” she spoke, eyes passing from Casey to Trisha.
”-He was just like an anime character. Him and that knife. I remember being scared of him!”

”Which, obviously, is nonsense. Nothing to be scared of, because he’d never do anything to any of us.” he said, knowing full well what Andrade was actually capable of.
”But he is extremely comforting in that regard. You know anyone scary like that babe? Anyone from the old coven?”

“Scary like Andrade?” Trisha furrowed her brow. She hadn’t experienced him like that, and it was a bit difficult to imagine. When she thought of scary, the first thing that came to her mind was her Mother. Not scared for her life scary, but the fear of her judgment or lack of care almost felt worse.

“Was kinda hard for anyone in the coven to be scary when we were fighting a world ending snake,” she said with a deadpan expression, before her lips twitching up into a teasing smile. As if there wasn’t much trauma to that- like her entire time in the coven wasn’t one big mess of trauma.
“There was this one person, a Green Adept… their magic was all blood and bone based. But it was the way they got all excited over the different places to stab people, and torture, that was scary. Like they wouldn’t hesitate to kill you… it was pretty creepy.”

”Oh, damn… Can I ask Gin if she knows who that is? I’m kinda curious now, like… Sounds like a serial killer in your midst! Maybe they’ve got something to do with Father Wolf!” she sounded like someone who had a classic infatuation with true crime and murder stories. The kind of attitude that made someone fall in love with Ghost Face from Scream.

Casey shook his head.
”I… Don’t think so, Mimi. I really doubt it. As far as Hemomancers, there weren’t many in the old coven… And as far as I know, the only one confirmed is dead.” he shrugged, knowing full well who Trisha was talking about. Just another piece of information magically piped into his skull from a compendium thousands of pages long.

”So you know?” Mia asked with a higher pitch in her voice. She was hungry for it now.

Casey’s hand directed back at Trisha.
”She told you literally everything interesting. They died fighting the Stygian Snake, so there’s no big legacy. Nothing hiding.”

”But maybe that would just make it more plausible! What if they died to the snake, and it turned them into its new vessel or something!?” Mia’s wild gaze turned back to Trisha, practically pleading for engagement.

“No way, we buried their body. There was magic of some kind involved… it’s way more likely to be a living member,” Trisha shrugged. From her memory, the person in question- Saskia- was unlikely to murder any of them, aside from Drake and Emily, if she’d still been alive.

Well, it might’ve happened if they’d survived and Ella hadn’t.
“There’s so many coven members with the capability of becoming a serial killer. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was Greyson, or Anya, or Sloane… it could be anyone. Definitely not someone already dead. That’d be… unlikely…”

”Definitely not Greyson. Did I even tell you what happened after our date the other week?” Casey intoned, gossip column mode activating.

“No?” Trisha shook her head.

”Apparently Leon got a call from some undisclosed source? Pointed him to the abandoned power station East of the city? Picked up Greyson, Linqian, and supposedly her little brother from an Elite torture facility, said all three of them were banged up pretty badly.”

Explaining it now, Casey remembered why he hadn’t brought the news up to Trisha… It wasn’t for her benefit either. But, he’d told the scenario without bringing anything up about who else had been there in the raid.

”No way a dude who gets kidnapped twice in a week would be some mastermind killer, right?” he joked.

“Seriously? Twice?” Trisha’s lips parted in shock, before she let out a little, snorting laugh. She wasn’t surprised that Greyson was doing shit that was getting him kidnapped like that, but… it was just too funny. The fucking smug bastard. She could just imagine how much it’d pissed him off.

“You’re right.. If he was Father Wolf it’d be putting the rest of us to shame. Plus, it would’ve been the perfect time to murder Linqian…” Trisha trailed off, shaking her head. As much as she wasn’t close to the woman, she didn’t really want to think about her possible murder.
“Were they, uh, alright after Leon got them out?”

”Yeah, apparently. Leon escorted them home, I guess.” he gave a very simple answer without much thought besides avoiding any mention of who else had been there. Though, Theo had been called… He only hoped that the typically quiet and reserved individual didn’t find the time to start yapping now.

”Man, I don’t know how you guys can be on call for stuff like that. Or, even like that Dude from the Siblings? The one who interrupted your guys’ date?-”

Mia’s head tilted to Trisha.
”-Real sorry about that…-”

Then back to Casey.
”-I just don’t know how I’d deal with being on edge like that?”

”Probably how you usually deal with pressure.” Casey gave her a side-eyed response, and she huffed slightly in reply.

”Hey… It’s been a pretty good couple weeks. And, Leon said he thinks he found a secure place he can bring Kane and Abel! So, no more nightmares!” she said happily between the two of them.

It had become a problem for a few nights… For whatever reason, they’d been particularly cruel, and were purposefully waiting for vulnerable crossings between the roof and the safety of the hidden floor beneath them. Casey considered opening up a staircase directly down into one of the apartments, effectively increasing their living space while also offering a more direct passage for both guests and daily life. But, if they were really going to be gone, at least he could take it slow and plan better.

“Really? He’s really going to move them?” Trisha tried not to sound too excited at the prospect. But her attempt to play it off calmly didn’t really work… She really hated the cats. She hated how they dragged up all her deepest insecurities. How they hurt Casey too… and it was all her fault now. But if they were gone…

She’d still have nightmares, sometimes. But it wouldn’t be the same.
“I bet it’s cause they’re bothering Cass, isn’t it? Not that… I’m upset, because Cass is my friend. Just a bit annoying he waited this long, right?”

Casey’s face sagged into a flat grimace like a displeased frog.
”It's a bit more annoying because she reports zero issues. From what she’s told me, and what Lee’s said, she just… Eats the nightmares like they’re candy. Though, recently she had trouble with one, so maybe that was the real impetus. Leon didn’t go into details.”

Mia shrugged.

”Some people just aren’t prey, y’know? I don’t think we ever had a chance, they were allowed around us as babies. So many pictures-” She faced toward Mia ”-of the cats like in or near our cribs. Like, hello? Mom and Dad? The menacing Maine Coon cats? No? Nothing?” she laughed again, but a little bit more nervously this time.

She only hoped they’d never forced the kind of dreams on Trisha that they had on her. Nobody deserved to see those sorts of things.

”Either way, I’m happy for all of us.”
She playfully raised the last bit of her chicken drumstick.
”To peace in the Cannery!”

Trisha laughed lightly, really hoping that Leon got rid of them soon. And that they didn’t know… because she had a feeling they’d only get worse if they did. It was like they were doing their best to make sure she was knocked over after every step she took forward. Not that she needed much help with that when her anxieties did such a good job.

"To peace," Trisha raised a piece of bread, before eating it quickly. She’d gotten through about half her chicken, half of that… she was already starting to struggle. But she’d soldier through. Had to, to make Casey happy. But she’d need to change the topic to do it…
"Oh, Mia? When you asked earlier about if the Queen would want any help, what did you mean by that? Help with what, how?"

Mia brightened up reactionarily, swallowing the bite of food and uncannily cramming a buttered roll into her mouth to swallow just about whole.
”Ehemmm… Mmmm… Th-... The process for making…-”
One last gulp pulled the bread down.
”-The process of making a Forest Friend, which is what I call them, basically takes me using the spell to imbue an inanimate object with… Life? Not really life, but I can’t explain it. I watched that toy movie when I was little, and I felt inspired! So, like, they come to life.”

She smiled just thinking about the memory she had for Trisha. It’d be the most powerful Forest Friend yet! Especially if-

”Anyway, when I cast the spell, I can pretty easily invite other magic into the weave of the spell, meaning that its influence can impart a great deal of individuality on the… Friend?”

”Constructs, Mimi. They’re constructs, you provide Luxal Attunement, and through that you can project a semblance of sapience into just about anything. It’s a pretty common thing for Orange Adepts like us to do. Y’know, you inspired me to make something like that one time?” Casey said, beaming.

Mia smiled.
”Thank you, Old Man. We’ll get back to that when I’m not explaining myself.”

She didn’t really snap. In fact, she sounded pretty playful despite chastising him like that. But Casey had a terrible habit of side-tracking conversations and taking the reins away. But in his defence, he was more saying it to compliment her than to interrupt with a story.

”Hey… I just love you is all.”

”I know, I know. Anyway, the original point. I mentioned that to say that if the Queen, or if you could muster up enough of her energy to do so, would like to influence this Forest Friend, the option is available. Unfortunately, the only uh… Example-”

She pointed down at little Stompy, who was chowing down on a broccoli head at the side of Casey’s plate.

”-is Nervous Nelson down there. Stompy is probably the most skittish of the entire line I’ve enchanted. He’s nervous and scared of just about anything that isn’t a blanket and pillow, and you absolutely cannot make loud noises around him. He only freaks out more, hence why he started to…”

She pointed at the broken lamp and half-crushed furniture.

”And that’s purely because that was Casey’s influence. I took what little residual magic he had around him at the time, and that’s the trait that came up…” she said with a small grimace.

Casey laughed.
”It checks out. I was a nervous little kid.”

“You’ve changed a lot, then,” Trisha said softly, reaching out to rub Casey’s arm. She smiled at him warmly, then turned that smile towards Mia. It wasn’t as warm, but it was still genuine.
“I understand… I don’t think I’d be having any kinda anxious influence, at least.”

That was a lie, of course. She definitely couldn’t be the one to do it. If she did, she’d end up with a massive plush bee with attachment issues… or any of her many negative traits. She didn’t want that. But the Queen… then she’d be calm. That would be nice. It’d certainly balance Casey’s anxious friend.
“I doubt I could channel her energy like that, so I’ll have to ask her. If that’s alright? I’ll be, y’know, holding a conversation in my head. Kinda feels like texting at the table.”

She laughed in return, thinking about how silly that would’ve sounded from any other Aberration she knew. But Trisha? She was so mundane with all her habits. Everything seemed like she was a Blind. But here she was, one of the remaining heroes who destroyed the Stygian Snake… How time healed wounds…

”We’ve watched our Mom break down into full ‘Beam from God’ mode several times. Talking to your Apparition Partner is basically just talking to another person sitting here with us.” she joked, laughing about Lynette’s habits.

“We’ve had very different upbringings,” Trisha laughed.
“Though I suppose my older sister having a fit over us being ‘rude’ not paying attention to her at the table is similar enough.”

But she nodded, turning more inwards. The Queen had been more responsive recently. Even helped Trisha with her magic recently, even if there hadn’t been much steps.
Have you been listening?

It was silent in her mind for a little bit, but she’d learned to wait. Eventually she heard those sleepy, dulcet tones.
Distantly. I know what you want to ask.
Will you?
You have the strength to do it yourself.
I don’t want to. It won’t turn out well. I’d like you to… you said you’d help. Please

The Queen didn’t reply for a moment.
Very well. But… only if I get a taste of that bread. Ah, the memories it would bring back.
I’m already eating bread?
Not that bread. The other bread.

Trisha’s gaze moved from where she was staring right ahead, slightly vacant, to Casey’s remaining rolls. She frowned a bit. Was it worth it for her influence on something like this? But it would… make the sentient toy calm. Trisha needed that more than anything.
“She, uh, wants to taste the bread. Your bread.”

Casey didn’t hesitate, handing over a roll from the tray.
”The bread? I mean… They’re as clean as I can make them, Babe. Goliath grain, supposedly recovered from some ancient abandoned temple in a cave outside Nice in France. We started growing it, and it has the properties we need… So, I guess she probably knows more about it than we do, huh?”

“Probably, she talked about memories with it,” Trisha laughed a bit nervously as she took the roll from Casey. But if he was handing it over so easily it had to be alright. He wouldn’t let her have anything that’d hurt her.
“It’s good to know she can be bribed.”

She took a little nibble first, not particularly feeling like eating more. Not when it was something that provided so much nutrition. Surely it’d be more filling? But the Queen wanted some, so after a nibble she took a couple of bites. She managed to finish half of it before putting it down.

Ahhh… Just as I remember. The sweet pollen my children used to collect for me. A pleased sigh echoed around Trisha’s mind.

Then golden light started to pool across her shoulder. It delicately formed a beautiful Queen bee the size of a small dog. Trisha’s head twisted around to stare. She hadn’t expected the Queen to come out to do it. Did she need to? She supposed it would make things easier.

”How is my assistance required?” The Queen asked in a soft, melodic tone.
“Uh… we’re still eating…” Trisha said, looking between Mia and Casey.

The two onlookers shared a new look of shock and surprise as they came to the realization that the Queen was literally just that. Casey had expected some immaculate humanoid form incorporating bits of bee anatomy. Mia had imagined a far larger and more intricate looking portrait of evolution from the times of Paradise Lost.

But she was just a big, chunky, fuzzy Queen Honey Bee. And she was fucking adorable.

”Oh my God! The Queen! That… Royalty! In my house!”

Mia looked at him and laughed, but he wasn’t joking. He stood, grabbed Mia by the arm, and in a moment they were both kneeling on the ground before Trisha, and by proxy, the Queen.

”Your Grace? I am Ser Casseau Richoux of the New Dawn’s Holiest Order of Banded Knights. This is Damzel Mia, my Sister and honored seeress of House Richoux. You honor us with your presence, and the abode is yours to do with as you please. I bear offerings of hearty Bread, Elder Wine and many modern fruits should you desire.”

This was part of his “programming”. The knowledge of formality.

Trisha wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. It felt like an awful joke meant to embarrass her… but she knew he was being serious. That was worse. It was mortifying. She really couldn’t bear it, her head tilting back to look up at the ceiling. But that didn’t stop her from hearing what Casey said and knowing they were kneeling. What the fuck?!

That ‘royalty’ had always been in their house… she was just too lazy to come out of Trisha’s body. Something Trisha hoped would continue with Casey’s reaction being like this.

Of course, to the Queen it was the welcome she deserved. She sat radiantly upon Trisha’s shoulder and looked down at the two respectful humans with an air of pleasure. If she could smile, she would be. Her host had chosen well with who she surrounded herself with… finally.
”Your gracious welcome is much appreciated, Ser Casseau and Damzel Mia. There are few who would pay such respect for an an Ancient Monarch such as I in this age. Perhaps I was too quick to judge Mankind. Your offerings are unnecessary. You already provide my dearest Beekeeper with all I could ask for.”

Trisha really couldn’t stand it. Her hands clenched into fists beside her and her face was becoming more and more red. She was clearly getting agitated too, that mood she’d managed to suppress wriggling its way back up.
“Oh my God, stop it! Get up off the floor, Casey! You too, Mia! She’s just a Ghost! She’s been sleeping in my body for years she was always here. This is ridiculous! Please fucking stop.”

Casey smiled softly at Trisha, still kneeling. Mia moved to get up, but Casey’s hand reached out to hold her by the sleeve. His other one reached out and crawled up to hold Trisha’s hand.

”Baby? Trisha? When have you known me to do dumb, pointless things? Ridiculous? Maybe. Maybe to you. But to the Queen, who as far as I’m aware you’ve been doing your absolute best to maintain good relations with, is gracing us here in a physical form. Something she’s probably ill-comforted to do… And she’s technically doing it for you. So, in my opinion, I think it's only fair that Mia and I should at least respect royal conduct… We are nobility, after all.”

Unlike most, Mia and Casey didn’t have to stretch too hard to confirm their link to Charlemagne: The very first entries of the Richoux Tomes are pages directly copied from the Holy Roman Emperor’s own book of Orange spells. Gifts given to one of his many sons, and where the Richoux line would eventually appear a few hundred years later.

”I understand that this makes you feel uncomfortable too… But in the long run, I’m sure that Our Lady would feel far more inclined to participate in your life knowing that you have this level of knowledge and support at your side.”

He looked up at Trisha with eyes wide, practically pleading with her for a moment more spent considering what this could mean. She called him empathetic before, so she had to know that this was a possibility…

Trisha’s whole face was scrunched up now, lips pressed together and eyes squeezing shut so she didn’t have to look at them. The hand Casey had held gripped his tightly, enough that the tension in her whole body could be felt. Her head shook from side to side instead of saying anything. What was the point, if he was convinced? She’d just look bad.

She knew it wasn’t for her. But she hated it. She just wanted to be normal. It brought up all sorts of feelings- feelings that weren’t the Queen or Casey’s thoughts, but were there. Inadequacy. Inferiority to the Apparition resting in her. Worthless without her. Only there to maintain good relations with someone who’d ignored her for so long.

”He is quite right, Dear Beekeeper. It has been long since I’ve been shown such respect outside of my children. It is not often I allow humans to witness my radiant splendour. To do so to those that do not respect it is… distasteful. I appreciate that you surround yourself with intelligent ones such as these.” The Queen’s soft voice didn’t bring Trisha much comfort.
”But you may both rise… I do not wish my dear host to be distressed. It’s rather difficult to regulate the emotions.”

Don’t regulate them then! Trisha thought to her Apparition, lips still clammed shut.

Casey hadn’t taken his eyes off Trisha. His hand holding Mia released her to stand, but he stayed closer to his beloved for a few more seconds. Then, coming up, he kissed her gently and rubbed his thumb against her cheek.

”I’m sorry… I love you. We’ll talk more about it later…”

Clearing her throat, Mia hoped to take a bit of heat off Casey.

”S-so… Your Highness? Presumably you’d heard of my plan through Trisha. T-the…-” she pointed at Princess the stuffed bee. ”-The necessity would be a small amount of your energy. Preferably, a positive and courageous energy. One that you and Trisha should discuss fully, so you know what traits you’ll impart. Not just emotionally, but physically as well.”

The Queen had floated off Trisha and onto the table, moving gently around Princess to inspect her.
”I understand. We shall discuss it.”

Trisha still wasn’t particularly happy, but she’d given Casey a nod of agreement. There was nothing said… partly because she was worried what would come out now that all that suppressed agitation was seeping into her mind with nowhere to go. It was difficult for her to just get rid of it.

The Queen floated back over to Trisha, gently speaking in her head.
What did you have in mind?
Calm… like you.

The Queen chuckled.
I believe she means more than just personality. This bee could become a weapon. Or perhaps, a way to transport the children. Maybe something to focus and boost your pheromones?

Trisha furrowed her brow. She hadn’t actually thought about that. She’d just assumed Princess would become a larger, living toy… but still a toy. What did she want?
Something to defend and carry the bees? So they have somewhere to go when they’re hurt… something they’ll be safe on.”
And something they can go to and from the Hive without having to travel long distances?
If that’s possible.
Anything’s possible with magic.

Decision seemingly made, the Queen moved away from Trisha and back onto the table. She seemed to look up at Mia.
”Do you need to know what traits we wish to impart, Damzel Mia?”

Mia looked down at the adorably blown up face of the little bee Queen, eyes massive with adoration for the miniature size. She was like a pug…

”No! No, your Highness. If you have the intention, I’ll read it in the weave.”
An extra benefit which made Mia’s golemcraft a cut above others: White Lux. She could read, translate, reconstitute and train anything she was exposed to into her own work… It didn’t even take much brain power.

Just a very strong booting cost. She was willing to pay it for Trisha…

”Beneficially, linking your essence directly to it will also allow both of you to activate it without Orange Lux influence. Quite the benefit in my opinion.” she grinned.
Her fork fell down and snagged another piece of broccoli. As there was enough motion, Stompy had become curious of what this new big bee was doing… So he’d come to nudge the Queen with his horn, pressing into the fuzzy abdomen of the Apparition.

Casey didn’t see… He was still trying to comfort Trisha. He had his head in her lap, just laying there and hugging her by the hips now. Hoping that his weight and his affection would both keep her calm and still while Mia did what had to be done.

Mia fixed her hat just a little tighter on her head.
”It really won’t take too long… Usually it takes longer for someone to actually lock down what they want in their head. But, I trust you and Trisha made it easy for me. So, I’m ready when you are.”

Luckily for the small triceratops, the Queen was gracious. She recognised it’s inferior life form and lacking intelligence. Below that of her bees, even. So she didn’t react negatively as he nudged her, just floating out of his reach after allowing him a sufficient nudge to feel just how fluffy and superior she was.

And luckily for Casey, Trisha wasn’t in a moving mood. Her body was still stiff underneath him, but one of her hands moved to grip the fabric of his shirt. She curled inwards slightly as she silently watched.

”Don’t worry, young one, I have a clear picture of what we want.” The Queen sounded almost amused, but still gentle. A bee plush that embodied her calmness and rationality. She reasoned there was enough fluff on this bright orange thing that once its size increased it would hide and protect the bees, if it was strengthened. Then a connection to their hive. A clear final form.
”I am ready.”

Mia nodded and smiled. One hand placed itself on Princess, then the other stretched out open for Trisha or the Queen to occupy. Once one had, she took a deep breath and fell backwards into the pit of her mind. Air rushed from below her, forcing all the fabric and hair upward toward the sky as she fell. Down, down to the vault where the most precious treasures were kept.

The memory played over for her like a slideshow with long gaps between takes. Mother’s office. Cold reception. But firm conviction. Standards. Ideals and beliefs not broken. A confrontation that, she felt, took a lot of guts to have. And a lot more to leave peacefully from…
At first, the echo of the magic bubbled up across Princess’ bulbous body. But then the hand that held the contributor flared up into a strangely shaped orange mass. Like basalt pillars, or the combs on a hive, small hexagons formed and stacked atop one another until they cracked open to reveal an illusory throne in the orange light.

It was then that the energy of the contributor was pulled, and when Princess’ life would truly begin.

Golden light entwined with the orange, encapsulating Princess in a honeycomb formed of pure magical energy. Her plush wings started to lightly beat as she grew. Orange and black fuzz became as strong as steel while retaining its fluidity. She grew and grew and grew, until she was nearly as large as the island. The honey coloured magic focused in on her centre, fueling a connection with the hive. Both a two way teleportation for bees only, and something pheromones could directly go through to call them. The link would only allow small groups of bees through at a time… but it was impressive nonetheless.

A large, plush bee fortress. The light withdrew as her transformation was complete, and Princess hovered there calmly.

“... Wow,” Trisha whispered, watching the whole thing. She was still tense, but it didn’t stop her awe at the combined spell. Princess turned as if recognising her and flew over, pausing right in front of her. Trisha could tell through her connection with the Queen that the plush bee could do everything she’d asked for. If she called the bees through, they’d come.
“Thank you, Mia.”

The absolute blasting of Princess’ wings was filling the entire house with gusts. Loose papers flew about, and above them the hanging garden’s occupants wobbled about. Mia’s hair flew about, and the hat was blown off her head. Not that she could care…

”Can… Can I hug you? I’m just… Really, really proud of this. Of her! I mean, look! The wings work! God, I never expected the wings to work! Like… Work!” she exclaimed in an all over the place fashion.
Her feet took her closer to Trisha, if not a little bit instinctively, but she didn’t automatically reach out like she wanted to. But Casey was still there clinging to her. He didn’t even look up… They’d have plenty of time later, he was sure.

”I mean, you’re welcome of course, Trisha! And, blessings to Her Highness too! Frankly I don’t think we’d be quite this far without her!” she attempted to impress her excitement upon them both.

”Don’t give yourself too little credit, young one. Your magic is impressive. I felt your strength and conviction. Truly impressive.” It was the Queen who responded first. She sluggishly floated up, golden light brushing past Mia. She would feel the warmth against her cheek where the large, glowing Queen bee almost touched her.
”I shall return to my slumber. It was a pleasure, Damzel Mia, Ser Casseau.”

Then she disappeared into Trisha. Trisha was still staring at Princess. She wasn’t purposefully ignoring Mia. She was just a bit lost in the flying plushie in front of her. Her free hand reached out to touch her, and the bright orange bee pressed against her fingers. She was still so soft…

Her head turned towards Mia finally, and she managed a smile. She wasn’t upset at Mia. She wasn’t even really upset at Casey… She’d just been set off. Casey hugging her offered some comfort, but it wasn’t enough to truly calm her down. She didn’t know what would. She just felt off.

But she could suppress it just for a moment. Try to be better. At least, pretend to be. Be reasonable for once. Don’t take it out on someone who doesn’t deserve it…
“You… You should be proud, Mia. She’s amazing. She’s exactly what I wanted.” While subdued, Trisha did manage to get some of her excitement across as she looked up at Mia. It was there, a spark in her eyes and in the way she kept glancing at Princess.
“And you can… hug me. If you want.” She patted Casey’s shoulder, before awkwardly moving her arms up to let Mia move closer.

Mia accepted Trisha’s reaction after everything. She’d been bombarded by Thanksgiving news, then dealt with whatever that was. Casey seemed to know something Mia didn’t, because he just refused to move entirely. But, she still moved in and gave Trisha what she thought would be a decently proportioned hug for the person and situation. Relatively short, but tight to convey the depth of affection.
Before it became too cloying, she pulled away to look up at Princess just like Trisha had been.

”Thank you… I’m really just… I guess I’m excited. I don’t know what using your powers is like, but not using one after a long time isn’t like riding a bike. I had to practice all last week before this.” she smiled.

Finally, Casey looked up. He looked up at the giant plush bee, then back at Trisha. Then Mia. She caught his gaze, and the two shared a knowing nod. Casey conveyed thanks and love and appreciation all in the same instance, and Mia picked it up instantly. Pulling back a little, he patted Trisha’s leg with a subtle smile on his face. Doing his best to stay comforting.

”Happy birthday, Princess… Right, Babe?”

“Mm, sure, it can be her birthday,” Trisha agreed quietly, hand reaching out to grasp his. Seeking comfort even after days of doing the opposite, even when she wasn’t quite sure what she wanted or why she’d reacted. Well she did know, but she just felt so… unreasonable. Stuck. Wanting to withdraw, but not wanting to. Trying to pull herself out. Or at least pretend to.

“I really appreciate you practicing and doing this for me… and Princess,” she continued, looking back at the calmly hovering bee.
“Can I… change her size like Casey did?”

On reaction, the spell in control of Princess’ life and existence reacted to the innate desire of the main controller. Thus, with the simple suggestion that Princess change her size, she began to shrink back down slowly, waiting until Trisha’s mind took note of what the “perfect” dimensions would be in her mind.

“O-oh.” Trisha stammered a little as Princess shrunk down to just a bit bigger than her nonliving form. She hadn’t expected it to just happen because she thought about it. Maybe she should’ve… but she really wasn’t used to using magic outside of her own. Magical objects were still foreign to her.
“That’s… really impressive, Mia. The way she reacts… Wow.”

The now smaller Princess moved forward, flying onto Trisha’s shoulder and very awkwardly resting there. She still had to flap her wings to stay up, such a rotund body not made to rest on narrower surfaces…

Casey looked up and could only laugh.
”Poor girl’s shaped like a fuckin’ egg… If you ma-”
Cutting himself off, he didn’t finish the thought. She didn’t ask for the suggestion, and his first reaction didn’t need to be to give it out.

”-Ehhh… Honestly, this is cuter. She blows your hair all around.” Casey giggled up.

”She will compress tighter… For the record, of course. In case you need to sneak her in anywhere or get her through a gap. Easier to store too, if you think you want to bring her anywhere. Compress her, then retract the spell; she’ll remain whatever size you last left her.” Mia explained the intricacies of the spell at this point, her mastery of the concepts having improved drastically over the many years of thinking about it.

”That’ll be good too. Maybe we can improve her with some technology too… If we have prep time, we can strap a harness on her to carry bigger guns. If she can get big enough, and the spell is strong enough, we’d be able to get some massive bee ordinance.” he giggled upward playfully.
”Do you boys have to weaponize my babies?” Mia chided back down at him.

“You’re already arming the bees, how many weapons do you plan to have me carry around?” Trisha added, though she wasn’t sure she was entirely against the idea. At least… not if there was a risk of assassins like during their date. Having access to something like that would at least be useful. She tilted her head down to look at Casey, head tilting. Her tone turned somewhat playful- though it was still flatter than normal. She was trying to follow along and joke with him, at least.
“And do you ever think about anything other than guns?”

”I think a lot about you.”
He grinned so widely that he could’ve split his lip on his teeth. Mia scoffed about as loudly and with as much exaggeration as she could muster.

”Holy fuuuuuuuuuuck I’d say get a room but I’m in your houuuuuuuuse!” she finished with a laugh, dusting her hands off like she’d just done hard work.

”So, I mean… I guess I’ll leave you guys alone? Casey, can I sit in your office and eat this?”

He looked at Trisha, not exactly wanting his little sister to feel like she had to run away, but knowing full well that the last half hour was probably enough to drain poor Trisha twice. Ultimately, it was their place…
”Of course. Just leave the plate there when you’re done, I’ll make sure it migrates back up here washed at some point.” he offered.

”Take a few more of those rolls too.”

She nodded, piling a few more on her plate.

Trisha also felt a bit bad about Mia feeling like she needed to leave… but she was really at her limit. She could feel the agitation crawling back up. The longer Mia was around the higher the chance of Trisha lashing out. Not that it wasn’t a risk with just Casey, but… less, maybe. He seemed to know what to say a lot of the time, and hadn’t left yet…

“Thanks again for Princess,” Trisha said quietly, raising a hand to wave Mia off as she left. She picked Princess up off her shoulder, looking at her for a moment before deactivating her. The now still bee plush was put on the island in front of her.

She still had a bit of chicken and about half of her broccoli left, but… she really didn’t feel like eating it. The thought of eating more made her feel a bit sick. Her body tilted forward, torso bending to curl around Casey. Her face pressed into the top of his head and she took a deep breath. Then another.

It didn’t really do anything for her, but maybe it’d look like it did? Like she was calming down from days of tension and then a second probably completely ridiculous looking blowup. Way to go, reacting so negatively to everything.

“Do you want to… finish your food, and then go into the Den?” She asked quietly, still not quite sure as she weighed up the want to be close to him versus not wanting to talk.
“Maybe… watch a movie or something?”

All Casey thought was: What a silly thing to ask.

His arms scooped up under her, snagging her off her feet and bringing her close until she wrapped around him on her own. The left hand deftly scooped out, popping Princess into the air.
”C’mon, Stomps! C’mere boy!”

The tiny dinosaur took a running leap off the side of the island to follow along behind its best pal. The supposed Nervous Nelly, once everyone’s back was turned, wasn’t so nervous… He’d do whatever it took to keep close to his pal. Courageous Mia following her older brother off the side of that rock. Following Daddy. The warm summer day upstate.

Casey slipped through the door of the den, setting Trisha down and letting her slide off to wherever she was going to go. Assuming she was probably going to wait for him to get comfortable in what had become his usual spot, he instinctively scooted himself up to the very back of the couch.

Trisha hesitated for a moment, kneeling on the edge of the couch. Her hands pressed into the fabric in front of her, clenching and unclenching. Trying her hardest to push down the feeling of wanting to run away or withdraw to the opposite corner. But she also wanted to hug him so badly.

She hated feeling stupidly conflicted like this. There was obviously a right answer.
Which she chose, after a little bit, shuffling across the couch towards Casey. She silently wriggled up against his side, one arm draping across him and her face nuzzling into his chest. Her legs curled up towards her torso, knees resting on him. Her body loosened up as she cuddled up to him.

“I missed you today,” she mumbled, as if she hadn’t run out of the house to ‘work with the bees’ the moment she had the chance early that morning. Unnecessarily, when he was on his way out anyway. But it was true, she had missed him. But she’d also withdrawn. Both because she didn’t want to talk about what the problem was, and she didn’t want to risk snapping at him about it. Because that might be the final straw. Each time it happened could be the last time… even if he was so confident it never would be. She still wasn’t there.

“It was strange knowing you weren’t just downstairs.”

”Well, it’s been strange knowing that you aren’t in the office just behind me.” he offered in return.

Of course he knew what he was doing there. Mentioning the idea that she had been doing something different probably wasn’t what she wanted. But he did his best to use his understanding of tone to avoid it sounding accusatory. He’d had to start using it quite a bit now that his position was settled in and he was handling daily things.

”I miss you all the time you’re not right next to me. Maybe I’m a little obsessive though, huh?” he asked, redirecting the negative emotion back onto himself so she didn’t feel like he was attacking her. Without using White Lux, it was all a guessing game…

Trisha rubbed her face against Casey in what seemed close to a shaking motion. She liked that he missed her like that, if it was true. If for some reason he wanted her right there even when she was obviously feeling off. It was enough to stop her reacting to being told she was the one hiding somewhere further away than normal.

He was right. She knew he was right. She’d known what she was doing the whole time, even if she didn’t ever try to step back and stop herself.
“It’s not that obsessive. Obsessive would be… locking me in the office to make sure I was there, or something.” She suggested an extreme and unrealistic scenario. But she really didn’t think he was a little obsessive… probably because she was the same.

“I’ve just been in the Greenhouse, though. It’s not like you can’t visit…” She said evenly, like she didn’t know that it was viewed as her space. Her and the bees. Her neutral, slightly soft expression turned into a frown of frustration. Not at him. At herself. Why couldn’t she just get over it, or properly pretend everything was fine? Why did she have to get stuck in this in between state?
“Are you… upset at me… for it?”

Casey frowned, but shook his head no. He was a little annoyed that she wasn’t doing what they agreed to do.

”At most, I’m sad. Sure, I could visit, but I can tell when you’re not feeling good. I don’t need any kind of magic to feel you clam up on me. You’re not quite my bouncy Trisha-Bee. I leave you alone, because we said we’d talk about things, and I trust you enough to come to me with your feelings.” he offered the whole truth to her, bracing for impact and praying that she would at least see the logic that he was working with.

”But I swear to God and everything I stand on that it doesn’t make me love you any less. I love you more. Because you need it.” he explained.

She didn’t understand. Love her more when she was pulling away? How? That didn’t make sense. Wasn’t that when she was at her least loveable? Why… she managed to clamp down on her instinctive reaction to tell him it couldn’t be true. Her hands clenched in the fabric of his shirt as she tried to think about what Casey was saying.

Of course he could tell. She knew she wasn’t hiding it well. She never did. And she felt guilty because she hadn’t planned to come to him. She’d planned to wait it out, until it all blew over in a week and a half. Even though they’d promised to talk… it had always been a promise she knew she couldn’t keep. Because she just wasn’t good enough.

“You’ll think I’m being stupid if I talk about it,” Trisha asserted, like it was a solid fact. There was no way he wouldn’t. It was all her overreacting. An overreaction that started one year and continued the next, getting worse and worse. It was the same earlier. She should just be able to accept things at face value.
“Then you’ll… well… then I won’t deserve your love…”

What the fuck could you possibly say? What on Earth would be so stupid that I’d feel that way?
Casey’s face nearly remained stationary, the gentle and reassuring smile still on his face. But there was a vein near his hairline, thankfully covered up by a loch of hair that had been tugged out of place. There was also a subtle motion of his hands, fingers gently wriggling against Trisha’s hips as he held her close.

He was getting mad. Mostly about the fact that it seemed like every single thing in her brain was telling her to go against his wishes. Was this what he’d seen so many times? That look… He could see himself, practically like a mirror shimmering in her eyes. It was identical to that man in those moments where his frustrations were starting to boil over.

You are not Maxwell Richoux. You are Casey Richoux. You are not like him. You are like you. Do the right thing.

”I… Sweetheart? Look at me.-” he said, getting a little closer to her face so that he took up her whole field of view.
”-I want you to try me. Seriously. Make it sound as stupid as you can. As bad as you think it sounds in your head. Don’t hold back.”

Trisha bit her lip, having no choice but to look at Casey. There was no escape. And she knew she’d put herself in this position by cuddling with him. Maybe she’d wanted to… maybe something deep down wanted it dragged out. But she didn’t know. It was just so stupid.

“I’m- I’m upset because I don’t have a family to spend holidays with. I’m forced to spend time with people I’m related to but- but we’re not a family. And you do! Even if it’s far from perfect there’s people that love you and I can’t even latch onto it because I have to appease my sister. But more than that- I can’t stand the thought that you’ll probably have some Temple event you need to go to on my birthday because there’s no way a Christian cult doesn’t extend Christmas into the next day. And it’s so fucking stupid because I’m not a kid. I’m almost twenty-five and I’m upset about all of this stuff because I’m selfish and needy.” It all came spilling out, a mess of words dragged out from where they’d been stewing in her head.

Casey deflated all at once. It wasn’t anger anymore… It was the understanding that there was still a little kid inside that body screaming for something more than what she’d been saddled with in her life. He couldn’t be mad. Only empathetic as he had come to be.
”You didn’t get many birthdays, did you? I bet it always got wrapped into Christmas, which meant you shared it with whoever else was young enough to celebrate Christmas at the time… You think I won’t make the Temple’s Christmas celebration all about you? I mean, I wouldn’t, because I know that you wouldn’t want it. But, if you told me to? To make you feel better? Trisha… This shit means nothing to me if it’s hurting you.”

He was still so close to her. He only blinked to wipe the tears that were slowly creeping in from the corners of his eyes.

”For once, Trisha… Tell me what you want. We have time to plan.”

“I… Anything as long as it's with you," Trisha replied without much hesitation. Just like every time something like this had happened, she was shocked by how well Casey responded. It wasn't like she expected… And each time added a tiny drop to her confidence about talking about things. Small, slow, but it was happening.
“J-just be with me… I want someone to spend the day with me for once…"

That was honestly all she wanted. For everything. Someone who'd prioritise her. Someone who'd choose her.
“It never even really got wrapped up in Christmas… because no one remembered. Dad didn't, so none of my siblings did- aside from Tansy. But when she stopped trying to replace my mom she started ignoring it… Like my actual mom. She doesn't care."

Her eyes slowly moved downwards, as if to hide how upset it made her. As if her even almost monotonous delivery was all that mattered when her face screamed dejection.
“You really don't… think it's stupid- that I'm unreasonable and awful- for… getting like this because of Thanksgiving?" Her voice dropped until it was barely more than a whisper- but no matter how quiet, Casey was close enough to hear it.

There wasn’t much of a pause for Casey to answer this one. There wasn’t any room to think about it further. His arms curled tightly around her, and he purposefully let his hair fall around her like he had before. Their private little world within their private world. The ultimate safety of being totally and completely covered in him.

”It only hurts me that you’ve chosen to try and go through your pain alone again. But one day you’ll get it hopefully. And in the mean time, all I can do is be patient about it. Most people can’t admit when their family is a sore spot, so… I keep hoping that because we share the ability to admit it, that we would also freely admit the traumas that they’ve created.”

All Casey really wanted was to dedicate himself. To anything that would accept his hundred percent. The hope was truly that Trisha would be able to one day.

”Can I… Do you mind if I have a little conversation in my head? I need to ask someone some questions, but there’s no way I’m leaving you right now to make that phone call…”
He had a stern look on his face… That same look he had the last time he confronted Lynette about something and Trisha was involved.

She looked back up at him, mind stalling for a moment on what he'd said before asking. He was hurt by her trying to deal with it alone, and not talking but not… upset at her. At least, that's how it sounded. If he was willing to be patient. Because she really was trying. More than she had before, even if she stumbled at every hurdle.

Would she ever get to the point when she could freely admit it? Where she could just open up the moment she was upset? Maybe, if he was patient enough… stayed with her long enough.

“If you're staying, and I know-" that you're not ignoring me- “it's fine.” She curled up against him, a tight little ball seeking as much comfort as she could. Very quietly, she added.
“I really am trying."

The instantaneous permission meant an equally expedient discussion could take place.
”I know you are, Baby… It’s gonna be okay.”

He was shifting in his seat until his glove could be slid out from his back pocket. Trisha would be able to see his fist tightly gripping it as if he was trying to crush the poor ratty accessory. In reality, he was determined, and still a little pissed off. The massive burst of White Lux was the magical equivalent of kicking someone’s office door in to start an argument. There was an equally brief but noticeable moment of resistance for Casey as he projected the telepathic signal to its source… But it still picked up.

At that point, there was no conversation. Conveyance between two White Lux users of such skill was as simple as projection. Every little emotion that came with the instance was fully expressed through officially non-verbal means. For Casey, it meant having an argument faster than the speed of light, and negotiating just as quickly.
On the outside, it looked a bit like he was having a stroke as one side of his body drooped forward. Trisha would be able to hear him babbling something without any kind of intellect behind his words.

Then he snapped back to reality, fully inhabiting himself once more. Now he just looked annoyed.
”It’s exactly what I thought.” he grunted, wiping the drool away from his mouth onto the inside of his shirt.

”She’s doing it on purpose, and we both know why, and-”
Now wasn’t the time to worry about the expiration date on his Coven’s Archmatron.
”-she says… I’m in charge this year. Which, by proxy, means we are in charge…”

He wasn’t sure if Trisha would take this like good news, or bad. He could see both, but already had his own perception of the situation.
”If it’s really like that, we should take the chance to make Tansy’s experience miserable. Let’s be difficult the whole time. Lets make it about us. That I’m thankful for you, and that the entire Temple can suck it.”

His eyes screamed revenge. A lust for conflict.

Trisha frowned, her fingers pressing into his abdomen where they rested. She didn't like being the centre of attention like that… not when she could fail. And then everything would be worse. Everyone would know just how much of a fai-

She took a deep breath. It wouldn't just be her. She wasn't going to be alone and… the look in Casey's eyes gave her a strange confidence. He really believed that they could do that. And he was upset enough on her behalf to possibly ruin a whole event over it…

“Alright… but it won't be easy to actually upset Tansy. I've been-" She frowned, face scrunching up a bit. She didn't really want to admit it, but…
“- difficult my whole life. She's used to that. You saw how she was. But maybe- maybe if it's the two of us. If your focus is all on me…"

A part of herself liked the idea of that a bit too genuinely. Of him just being thankful to her in that way. It wasn't a part she liked, and she squashed it down.
“But what will other people think? Like- Ezra if he's forced along? I guess he already thinks I'm difficult, that doesn't matter… but Mia, Hari, Ed, Gin… Won't they think badly about me after?"

Casey felt the reluctance. Maybe this was too much for her right now.

”Well… You’re spending it with me no matter what. Quiet, loud, in people’s faces, out of it… I want you next to me. You don’t even have to look at anyone you don’t want to.”
Overcorrection was natural as a reaction to this sort of thing. Casey just wanted her to feel better… Because he could feel her worse.

It was… A little fatiguing. Nothing he’d never done before, but the fact that it was so consistent meant he just had more of it to look forward to. More of her needing him, maybe…
Not so bad.

”You’re the woman I love. I just want the world to know it. But I’ll do whatever it takes for you to feel like you can count on me for anything.”

The tension in Trisha's body reduced slightly. She was still curled up, but it wasn't like she was about to snap and flee. Her hand clung to his shirt like she'd somehow fall if she didn't.

“I’m not used to having someone to count on," she admitted quietly, as if it wasn't something Casey already knew. It was obvious. And it was easy to tell why so many of her relationships didn't work out. The withdrawal, the difficult reactions… The self sabotage.
“I- I know I can depend on you it's just… I don't know…" What if it got taken away one day? What if I can't cope when I'm left alone?

She shuffled herself up a bit so her head was resting on his shoulder. It was slightly easier to tilt her face up to look at him. She chewed her lip for a moment. What did she want to say? It was so difficult to figure it out…
“I was upset thinking we'd have to spend a day I hate apart, but then having to deal with Tansy and Lynette together felt just as bad. I know it's not, because it'll be us... And I don't mind being in everyone's faces, I like that you… love me that much and want everyone to know. I'm just worried that if…" She curled her head forwards, thick hair falling across her face.
“If I'm built up too high it'll hurt more when someone tears me down."

Casey didn’t know how to convey what was in his head for once. How could he say what was closest to the truth without Implying something? She would have to learn how to love herself one way or another, because there was no way he was going to let her-

It’s not about money, idiot… It's not about financial stability, or being able to take care of mundane bullshit. It’s fucking love!

But what if there was a finite amount of this that could be taken? What if she really never got better? This was the first woman who he actually liked in a mutual fashion… Sure, women had made passes at him before, especially prompted by Lynette. But he felt like he knew enough to know that she made him feel different.
Maybe because he knew it wasn’t a setup… It was something that came organically; that all he had to do that night was give her the pie and send her on her way. But he hadn’t. He felt empathy then, and it allowed her to expose herself to him in an equally organic way.

It had been real. Not part of his mother’s manufactured world. It was, strangely, the same sentiment he had upon joining the military when he did. It wasn’t a fantasy world; there was a real war happening, and people could use his help in a real way, even as a non-Adept. But, he’d stuck with that. He’d stuck so hard he made a career out of a war. Lost his mind and got bits of it back in the same lifetime, and did the last part without magic.

He took her hands. Both of them, slipping them away from where they’d been to brush up against his face. So she could really feel him when he said what he had to.

”I’m gonna ask you what it is you think I’m supposed to say as a reply to that. I feel like if I say that you’ll never get torn down, I’ll just be setting you up for failure. Life is full of personal anguish that I’m not always going to be able to help you with…”

But the frown on his face was full of sadness and empathy. The only real responses that were appropriate as far as he was concerned.

”But, like… I would never purposefully do that to you, Trisha! I’m not here to hurt you! Even if we did break up, which would only happen under the most extenuating circumstances that I don’t even want to begin thinking about right now, there’s no way I would treat you with any less respect than I’ve given you already! Do you hear me!?”

“I- I know!” Trisha’s eyes went wide with panic and her fingers pressed into his face. He’d misunderstood. She didn’t think he’d hurt her. Not on purpose… Not when he hadn’t shown any signs. She’d been in enough relationships like that to know the red flags, even if she’d never heeded them. But he didn’t have those…

“I didn’t mean you- I know you wouldn’t, I really didn’t mean you would, i-its other people, not you… I’m sorry, I know you wouldn’t hurt me, I do, I- I-” She sucked in a deep breath, pushing through the sudden panic. She couldn’t just shut down… It was just that reactive fear, and desperation to make sure he understood she did hear him- and really knew he wouldn’t. Desperate honesty shone in her eyes as she looked at him.

“I wouldn’t… I’ve already told you more than I have anyone else. I know it’s not much, I know I’m going to keep failing, people will still pull me down but I also know you’d never do that… I really do. I… said that because I’m- I’m trying to explain why I find it so hard.”

Casey could only frown again. Frown, then try to comfort. He nodded, taking her in as close as he could for a moment before letting her back into a position in which they could look at one another. He didn’t make any kind of speech or try to lecture her further… He just wanted her to look at him. To see him, and to see the pain in his eyes…

So she could see that she wasn’t feeling it alone…

”If that’s how it is, then… I’m sorry. I guess I’m wrapped up in feeling selfish, even if this really doesn’t have anything to do with me. I hate that you hurt, and it’s worse when you do it all alone.”

His face got a bit closer to hers, rubbing his nose against hers slowly.

”I love you. And we’re gonna spend Thanksgiving together. And we’re gonna spend Christmas together. AND we’re gonna spend Trishmas together. Official Temple Holiday, December twenty-sixth.” he tried to be very sweet about the attention.

“As long as it’s only select Temple members invited,” Trisha replied softly, managing to smile at him. Her posture softened and she slowly calmed down. It was difficult to push down the guilt she felt from making him feel bad too. That was one of things she didn’t want… Even though she kept repeating the same actions that led to it.

“Maybe five or six for some of it, but mostly just the one.” She tilted her face downward so her forehead rested against his. Just taking in the warmth of her favourite person. Finally letting go of the tension under his comfort.
“My patient, loving boyfriend… Thank you for not giving up on me. I know you won’t…” Or she tried to, at least.
“I’ve never had the chance to try and… break my bad habits. It’s- it’s like what you said earlier. Practice, try, and learn… even if I f- stumble.”

He nodded, and gave her a much warmer and more living smile. Hearing her at least acknowledge that things were going to be okay was enough for him to prepare for the next fight. It was coming soon apparently…

”Even if you stumble. Because I’m here, and if you do stumble, I’ll catch you. And if we stumble, then… We’ve gotta trust the people we surround ourselves with. It’s the only way. And if they fail, well… Shit, y’know? Life’s like that. Shit.”

With her hands still in his, he rubbed his thumb across the backs of them slowly. There was a pattern, though Trisha may’ve not noticed; the Ohm, at least in some basic summation. White Lux channeled from his body into hers, resonating against the mark of Absolution. He knew exactly what it was at this point, having done a little more prodding.
Like a set of chimes in the wind, Trisha would be able to feel the warmth of a spring day. Like being in the bee sanctuary, there was a great comforting wave that washed it up and over them.

”Everything else could implode. You could take my arms, my legs, my tongue… If you’re here with me, I’ll scream my love for you with my eyes. I would defend you with my fucking teeth, and the gums if they knocked those out. I will do whatever I have to do to make sure you know that I’m yours… And I’m here for the ride.”

Trisha's fingers curled into his hands, and she looked up at him with wide eyes. There was love, warmth, softness in them but also that ever present anxiety and hesitation. She tried to not hide it even though all she wanted to do was curl up in his arms and have that moment last forever. She didn't know what he had to do so she'd know that. No, she knew, the problem was accepting it… Trusting it. And the problem wasn't with him. It was with her.

She didn't feel that she deserved it.
“You do need to lose anything like that for me to know… I hope you don't. I don't think I could handle you being in that much pain." She shook her head. Getting too caught up in the hypothetical. He wasn't literally going to lose all of his limbs and his tongue and his teeth. She really hoped not… she didn't like seeing him hurt just like he didn't her.

“I know that you are. I know, I just…" Her grip on his hand tightened.
“The worries don't just go away. Because it's… not…" you it's me. She couldn't say it. “I don't want you to think I don't know, or I don't believe you. Everytime you tell me… it helps. I promise, it does. It's just slow because…"

He was fighting against a lifetime of being unloved and abandoned.
“I’m not used to it." She was trying her best to be honest, even though it was like tearing the words out of her throat. But when he'd said something like that… when he made a declaration of his love like that… she was able to try to push through, even with her anxiety bubbling just underneath the surface.

All he could really do now was accept what she said at face value. There wasn’t any more comfort he could give her besides being this close… Besides just dealing with it. So he made sure he was still mostly filling her field of view, and he gave her the biggest and brightest smile he could possibly muster.
”Then, all we can do is be patient, right? I’ll keep showing you. I’ll be your harbor.” And now I’ll never be able to erode. I won’t fall into the sea. I need to keep you safe. I need to do it. I need to.

Recollections: Primal Sinister

---

Interactions: Elena @Qia
St Alexia’s Practice

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Symphony: Modern Magic

---

13 Mourningdove Lane

"I had a date wi’ the lake’s sea serpent- and Eau de Dockwater is a must to attract 'em," Cailean didn’t seem bothered at all by Lena’s mocking joke, instead joking back with a grin. They stopped cradling the bust to straighten back up with the pie.

"Aye, well, looks like my da was right ‘bout never going anywhere empty handed." They didn’t get a chance to open up and offer the pie… because the man of the hour was finally there. The Archivist.

Of course he was an elf. Of course he was a fucking English prick. The moment his mouth opened and that grating posh English accent hit Cailean’s less pointed ears, they were irritated. It was more than that.

The way he held himself, that air of arrogance and condescending gaze, were a reminder of their inferiority. It was a look they’d first experience when their mum took them to the Western Isles and the Elvish Clan she’d been banished from. She’d hoped that after the years, and with a child in tow, they’d change their mind. At least, she’d wanted Cailean to meet their grandparents.

All that had met them was disdain.

Then, him. Not when they first met… but eventually. Eventually he’d looked at them like they were nothing.

Cailean met the Archivist’s disgusted look with a harsh glare. There was a visible change in the previously excited person, as they clenched their fists at their side and extended their body as tall as it got.

Which wasn’t very tall.

"Tha rop cac ort (You’re talking shite)," they muttered under their breath.

Arrogant bastard. Was it really just the lake water that made him look at them like that? Was that the sole reason for his comment? Or was it because of their ‘tainted’ half. The non-elvish side… It was probably that too. Elves like him tended to dislike any but full blood elves, and one that wasn’t even half-human?

They weren’t the only one that was unhappy. Questions came from all over and they were mostly harsh. Good.

They were annoyed, but not so annoyed they didn’t laugh at one woman calling him Santa. Now there

"Of course you’re fucking English! It’s the double asshole combo!" Cailean exclaimed, lips pulling back into a sneer. "Y’think cause you knew about this shit you’re above us all, huh? You ain’t the only one who read some fucking musty books on magic… "

Not that they’d actually read any. Their mum had. She’d told them about them sometimes, but it was all based in memory… the books her clan held and protected. Of course, it was all useless when it came to Cailean’s magic. Theory, really. Nothing useful.

But that didn’t matter, it was the principle of the thing. This fucking asshole acting like he was better than all of them.

"I second all of her questions," they pointed to Belladona. "I ain’t from around here, I ain’t even got an address… so either you’re a creep as fuck stalker or you’ve got creepy stalking magic. Either way… how do we know you ain’t just gonna take us down to your murder basement and slit our throats for some crazy ritual? Wait, you wouldn’t get your hands dirty- I bet you have some minions that’d slit our throats instead."

They then glanced over at Rowan. "Oh yeah, also what you need from us if it ain’t our bodies in a ritual sacrifice."

The Symphony: Modern Magic

---

13 Mourningdove Lane

The Archivist finally turned up, and he was an absolute fucking dick. Of course. No normal person would go around stalking people and sending out magical letters. But the fact he was acting like he was so much better than them was infuriating.

Old, old, soooo old!

Bea raised a hand to cover her mouth at the very accurate whispers of one of her new shadows.

”This is why nobody likes old elves.” While the comment was directed to Rowan, who’d unnecessarily covered for Bea’s mistake, she didn’t bother being quiet about it. If the old fucker heard it, he heard it. She quite frankly didn’t give a fuck.

Nor, it seemed, did Matt. The moment she got a whiff of sweet, sweet smoke in the air it was over for Bea. She started to get twitching, the urge to smoke clawing at her. It wasn’t something she could resist. Not when someone else was already doing it. She pulled a cigarette out of her pocket, rolling it between her fingers.

Bea patted Rowan on the shoulder in as close to a comforting gesture as they could give, before moving over to Matt in what was becoming the smokers’ corner. They lit their own cigarette and leaned against the wall next to him, taking a long drag.

”Y’know, smoking too much gives you cancer,” she intoned to the increasingly animal like man. There was no care or fear for the fact that he’d probably just admitted to killing someone and hiding the body… it wouldn’t be too much of a loss if his claws turned on her.

She smoked away as Mason also asked a few questions. All about magic and controlling it… Bea didn’t care about what caused it, but controlling it would be nice. Not that she’d be bringing that up herself. Her little talking shadows seemed far too like a hallucination. Especially when no one else could see them.

Glub glub glub glub-

That one was getting especially annoying.

”I got a question,” Bea spoke up when the other two were done. Nobody else jumped in immediately, so there was a chance for them to get in. ”What the fuck do you want from us? I want to know that before I go any further into this creepy house.”

The Symphony: Modern Magic

---

---

Twin Pines, 11:50

"For fucks sake, Da, I ain’t a kid! What d’you think’ll happen, I’ll walk in and get stabbed. This ain’t Glasgow!"

Cailean had made what they now realised was a mistake by calling their parents. They’d figured it’d be a good idea to let them know about the whole magic letter thing, but no, of course they were overreacting.

“You’re still my kid,” came his annoyingly reasonable response. “I don’t think you should go, Cailean. It could be dangerous. You don’t know who the sender of the letter is… so yes, I do think something could happen. You shouldn’t go.”

"C’mon… I’ve got magic. You’re the one who said I should go on an adventure. This is adventure."

“I told you to see the world. Not go to a small town and camp by the lake in hopes of seeing a sea serpent… which I hope you haven’t actually been doing.”

Cailean gulped. They weren’t technically camping, they had a room in a motel… but they had spent most of the day on the lake. Maybe taken a dip. Was maybe still a little damp from it. But there was no need to tell their dad about that. He was, after all, an overworrier. They’d figured calling would alleviate those worries.

"’Course not… just, I gotta know more about this magic shit. And whoever it was already sent me the letter!"

“It’s not safe. You can learn other ways… why don’t you come home, and we can help you with it? Then you don’t have to put yourself in danger. You know how much I worry about you…”

"Not this again… Da, I’m thirty-four, I can do it myself. Y’know what, put Ma on! I can’t take anymore of your nagging.“

There was some grumbling before the phone swapped hands.

“It ain’t smart, Cailean. I ain’t happy you got magic at all.”

Cailean let out a light huff, their mum of course agreeing with their dad. Like they did for everything… but Sìne could be convinced. Reo was much too cautious, hypocritically for someone who moved to the other side of the world and married an elf. But Sìne appreciated pushing boundaries for learning and academics.

"But I got it. Shouldn’t I learn how to use it? It’s like a whole new field of study- I could pioneer it!"

There was a chuckle on the other end. “That you tryna convince me to let you go?”

"Well, it ain’t like I need permission. Again, I’m fucking thirty-four! And in a different continent. I was just calling so y’guys knew."

“Mm, ‘course.” There was some more shuffling as the phone seemed to move a bit. “Y’know we can’t convince them when they’ve got their mind set on something.”

“But that doesn’t mean we should just say it’s alright, love,” Reo grumbled.

"I’m this close to just hanging up, Da!"

“Now don’t you dare hang up on us, y’here me?” Sìne said firmly. “Be careful. You dunno the people here, or who sent this letter. Anythin’ happens and you get out, alright?”

"Yeah, yeah, I’m no’ stupid."

“But you are reckless.”

"... Alright, I’ll be careful, Ma. Promise."

“Good.”

“Yes, be careful. Don’t do anything stupid… what are you bringing with you?” With his wife agreeing, Reo seemed to relax a little. Or at least, Cailean could tell he was less actively panicking.

"Uh, nothing? It’s a weird letter telling me to come to a creepy mansion."

“What did I always teach you? A halfling never…”

"... shows up empty handed," Cailean grumbled.

“Exactly. You have to bring something. It’ll make a good impression on whoever’s there.”

"You were just worrying about ‘em stabbing me!"

“I still am. But halfling hospitality is almost as important. I assume you don’t have the time or facilities to cook something?”

"No…"

“Then you’ll need to pick something up. Maybe… a pie would be a good idea. Americans love those, don’t they?”

"Fine, I’ll get a pie. There’s a diner… But I gotta go now otherwise Ima be late. Bye, love you!"

Cailean hung up before their dad could start listing off other halfling traditions. Fucking… did they really have to get a pie? Yes. Yes they did, otherwise they’d be shaming their heritage… Fuck!

Grumbling under their breath, they changed course. Now that had to walk to the diner then the creepy mansion.

---

13 Mourningdove Lane, After Midnight

Finally, everyone was given a reprieve from the flickering lights. Enough time to breath, see, and introduce themselves. No more annoying flickering, everyone must be there-

The door creaked open again, and the lights turned off. Then on.

STOMP, STOMP, STOMP, STOMP.

Clearly, there was another Goliath on the way. Or a monster. Or maybe it was the Archivist themselves, deciding to use the front door to subvert all expectations. This was going to be it. The big reveal. The stomping got louder and louder, until…

Anyone looking at the eye level of a normal human, or taller, would be disappointed. There was no one there.

But looking down, there they were. A few inches shy of five feet, Cailean held themselves with the confidence of someone much taller. Their long, dark hair fell in curls down their back. The front had been pulled back, with intricate braids joining the curls. Pointed ears poked out, adorned with multiple gold hoops. They wore a nice, light blue shirt tucked into slightly… damp slacks? A faint smell came off them. A warm apple, with something mustier underneath. There was a white carryout box under their arm.

The illusion shattered a bit for anyone looking further down. At least five inch platform boots were clearly the source of the loud stomping. It also meant they weren’t nearly five feet… they weren’t much over four.

The mysterious, almost graceful air they seemed to have shattered as they spotted Pom holding an open box of bright red goop.

"Oh shit, you broughta pie too? That’s so fucking sound!" The Glaswegian accent that spilled from their lips was distinct, but not so strong that it was difficult to understand. They bounced up to Pom, holding up the white box. "Glad I ain’t the only one that had the idea!"

As they got closer to Pom and Azure, the smell behind the apple pie in their hands got more… obvious. At least, anyone who’d lived in Twin Pines long enough would recognise the smell of someone who’d taken a dip in the lake. Their slightly damp hair and slacks only strengthened this theory.

"I hope ahm no too late- Got sidetracked! I’m Cailean- it ain’t spelt how it’s said, so don’ try- is that a fucking floating fireball?!" Cailean’s head jerked towards the ball of fire. Then, beyond it, they saw a tragedy. They ran over to the broken bust as quickly as their little legs could carry them. "Who did this t’you?!"

Their hands shook slightly as they tried to fix the marble bust, little pieces moving with them touching them.

Because magic. Of course, they weren’t very good at it yet, and couldn’t merge rocks together so they just clattered back to the ground. Cailean let out a sigh, wiping an imaginary tear from their eyes.

"Aw my poor wee man, rest in pieces."

The Symphony: Modern Magic

---

---

Bea was getting a headache from the flickering lights.

It was probably because of the tumour in her brain. She shoved a hand into the pocket of her leather jacket and pulled out a pair of red tinted shades that she slipped on to protect her sensitive eyes. It hid the strange glow within them each time it went completely dark. It made it more difficult to look around the strange room they’d ended up in. Fucking rich people decorations. Felt the opposite of homey. Who the fuck made their floor pink?

From behind the shades, her sharp green eyes swept across the other people as they appeared. None too impressive. All looked a bit outta place with each other. A strange gathering… made sense when it was cause of a letter about magic.

There were a fair few 'familiar' faces. An elf who worked at the diner Bea had been to a few times with her dad. A couple of people she was pretty sure were in school when she was. The kid- no, he must be an adult now. Maven? Mason? She remembered he worked on Coney Island a couple of times as a highschooler. Had she been in highschool to when he first did? She didn't remember. Didn't matter. She didn't think she'd been assistant manager then, at least.

”Definitely planning to kill us all, or build an underdogs team to succeed where actual heroes fail,” Bea muttered under her breath to Rowan.

All fail, all fail. Failures. One of Bea’s longterm shades whispered. They gathered around her, jagged edges flitting around the room as the lights went on and off. Nobody else could see them but they were constantly there.

More too. Fuck, there was more of them.

Buuurrrnnnn… One of the new ones, edges flickering like flames, pressed against her leg. She frowned, ignoring it, and trying to focus on what was happening.

Everyone was doing introductions, like they were in an alcoholic anonymous session going round the circle. The prankster- Lena- even suggested they share their magic. What next, their deepest problems?

No thanks.

”Bea.” She said shortly. Only Lena with her fireball and another guy, Ethan, admitted to having magic. Some were chattier than others. Her gaze moved over to Belladona, who'd had an equally curt response. A kindred spirit. Someone she'd not have to talk to. Thank fuck, cause the rest of the people in here were shaping up to be annoying.

Not that she expected to have to be around them much longer. Just to find out whatever was up. Preferably a way to get rid of the fucking whispering shadows haunting her.

Never… leave you…
Stuck, you’re stuck with us.
We’re yours.

How comforting. Some of the shades she hadn’t been able to get rid off, no matter how hard she tried, crowded her. The new ones joined in the fun too and their whispers started to fill her head, completely blocking out what was going on around her.

Burrrnnn… WHOOSH!
I’ve found you, I’ll never leave, you’re mine…
You’re nothing…
I’M FALLING AHHHHHH!
Everyone you love will die.
Glub glub glub glub.
They’ll fear-

”Will you fucking shut up for one minute!” Bea hissed, eyes narrowing into a glare. Nobody else could see the moving shades or hear their whispers. Only Rowan knew about them. So she could be talking to anyone.

Recollections: Primal Sinister

---

Interactions: Elena @Qia
St Alexia’s Practice

---

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

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

Again, the deadpan humour itself went over her head…

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

---

Ten Years Ago

---

”Again.”

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

”Vanessa. Did you hear me?”

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

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

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

She felt sick.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like Father.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More, more, more, more-

Everything went white.

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

Vanessa’s head snapped up.

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

She’d killed him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

aching, breaking, trying again

Deciduous Apartments, South Side, Westwood “Junglelands”

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”Calm down! I’m fucking coming!”

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

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

Like her.

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

”Today?”

“It’s Monday.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine. Tomorrow, or you’re out.”

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

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

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

I’m already guilty…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She’d need to get more food today.

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

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

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

It was good enough.

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

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

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

Nessa wasn’t going to get her hopes up.

Recollections: Primal Sinister

Nessa Mendoza

[+]

Alternate Theme

"I’m just someone trying to survive. There is nothing special about me."

_______________________________________________ Vanessa Sidhaya Charlotte Beaumont Nessa Mendoza She/Her | 23 | Filipino-American | 5’2” | 89lbs _______________________________________________ Progeny _______________________________________________ Skills & Talents "Just as useless as I am." ___________________________________ [+] Want to be Wanted ⫻ Nessa is good at flirting. She knows how to act to get someone to like her in that moment, and how to use her body and words to get what she wants out of them - whether a bed for the night or a relationship. She also knows when to use her magic to help with this. While these relationships rarely last… there’s very few people she hasn’t at least slept with after targeting them. Something about desperately wanting to be loved pushes her to do everything she can to capture someone, even if it never works out. Magical Upbringing ⫻ Since Nessa kindled at a young age, she’s been taught about the Paranormal on the side of intensive spell training. She has a deep understanding beyond just what’s been taught - one that comes from years spent within the minds of other Paranormals. Her knowledge around Emotional Fields is especially intimate. There are gaps, namely around Apparitions and their sealing, but her understanding of Adeptal magic, the intricacies of Abberations and the protection Paranormal have against each other is incredibly solid. She’s also good at learning spells, even if it’s a slow process for ones that don’t align with her - but it’s all she’s ever done. Father’s Legacy ⫻ If there’s one thing Nessa’s father left her it was a preparation for the worst of humanity. She’s seen people die - she’s accidentally killed them herself. From a young age she was forced to witness horrific magical human experimentation that no one should ever see. Not only did she have to see it but she was forced to participate in it. While the circumstances she’s found herself in now suck, she hasn’t seen anything worse than she already has. It takes a lot to actually disturb her and she’ll do almost anything for her own survival, because it can’t be worse than what she’s already done. Her not so healthy paranoia helps keep her alive, and she has a high pain tolerance thanks to years of constant, magically induced migraines.

Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "You can take a closer look somewhere private if you want..." Nessa’s looks are something that naturally draws the eye, something she easily catches with a seductive smile. Her short, slim build is now verging on unhealthily skinny. But this isn’t noticeable to other people, aside from how easy she is to pick up and a few places where her bones can be felt through her skin. She has nice curves, with an average sized chest she accentuates with clothes and more noticeable curves at her hips. She’s not afraid to use this to her advantage, and is very confident in her body and sensuality. But the year and a half struggling to survive has taken its toll. Her light brown skin is no longer smooth and unblemished. Cold showers and lack of care have led to it getting rougher, just like there are places that are uncomfortably bony to touch (but thankfully nowhere important when it comes to offering enjoyment to others). She’s often covered in scrapes, with small scars all across her limbs from violence she’s experienced since ending up in the South Side. Aside from smaller ones, there’s a larger, obvious knife wound scar on her back. Her medium brown eyes, with a hint of green at the centre, are often tired looking with dark bags underneath them. Thick, dark brown hair falls to her chest in messy waves, now often kept tied back so it's off her face. Freckles splash lightly across her nose and cheeks. While Nessa wouldn’t have been found dead without makeup on before, she has to be much more conservative with her supplies now. As a result she only wears it when she wants to look attractive to someone else. Base makeup is kept light, covering up blemishes, and her eyeshadows are done in darker, more sultry tones. Her round lips are painted in soft pink or a bolder red. She has two lobe piercings and one helix. Right now she wears simple gold hoops or studs, except for a cat claw dangle earring always found in her right ear. A once expansive wardrobe has now been cut down to the bare minimum, with the majority sold for cash that’s beginning to run out. It all fits in one suitcase, because that’s all Nessa has to work with. When alone Nessa wears tank tops and one of the two pairs of cargo pants she has left - now stained with dirt and dust. For outings and time spent with the constant cycle of partners, Nessa’s kept a selection of clothing that makes her feel and look sexy. Low cut crop tops, bandeau tops, or bralet tops are paired with tight, barely covering everything skirts and shorts. There’s also revealing and tight fitting dresses, nicely highlighting her body. Occasionally she’ll wear the few cuter, comfortable dresses or skirts she's kept. She dresses to get what she needs - which is normally someone to fall for her looks and give her a bed to sleep in.

_{Psychology
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}
"Is who I am now really a lie if I was never myself before?”

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Right now Nessa just wants to survive. The past year and a half she’s been in survival mode, and she doesn’t see herself getting out of that anytime soon. Pay rent, get food, don’t starve to death. The simple things. Beyond just survival, Nessa wants to get enough money to move away from Cloverfield. She wants to go somewhere that she can just be her rather than her father’s legacy.

Ultimately, that’s what she truly wants. Nessa wants to just be herself - and she wants someone who sees her and loves her for that. She desperately wants to be loved, and even as she’s struggling to survive she’s still trying to find that. She wants someone to see her.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Everyone leaves eventually. Nessa believes in always prioritising herself, and taking what she can from other people while she can. No one else will be there for her - it's been proven time and time again that she can only depend on herself. If you survive, it doesn’t matter how. Nessa believes that nothing comes free in life. Everyone wants something from you. For her, it’s always been her body or her magic. And everything is always conditional. What is given can, and will always, be taken away.

SECRETS ⫻ Nessa’s true identity is a secret. Vanessa Beaumont is the wanted daughter of a once millionaire criminal mastermind. Nessa Mendoza is a poor girl from the coast who moved to Cloverfield a couple of years ago for reasons she doesn’t want to share. It explains away the more neutral accent. Her magic is also a closely guarded secret. To the rare Paranormal she’s met since, she keeps it vague - trying to focus on the yellow and pink side. She keeps all of the spells her dad taught her a secret. That she has a spellbook filled with even worse spells is something she’ll never tell anyone. The only thing stopping her burning it is the part of her that still loves him. Then there’s her active participation in his human experimentation. That’s a secret that eats her alive, and has done for most of her life - only now there’s no curse to keep it trapped in her mind. Only a shoddily put together mental shield.

Outside of the secrets that would see her in a jail cell right next to her dad, there are Nessa’s more personal secrets. How much she fears being abandoned by every single person who comes into her life. How beneath her snappy, confident surface she’s incredibly fragile. How much she actually feels things. That she craves her father’s affection and pride, but at the same time she hates that she does. That she hates herself so much sometimes that she doesn’t think she even deserves to live, but at the same time she’d do anything to survive. Just what lengths she’d go to for someone to love her, but she doesn’t feel like she deserves to be loved at all. All things buried beneath the flirtatious, attitude filled surface that she never lets anyone past.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Whoever will give her shelter and safety. While Nessa considers herself bisexual, her actual preferences don’t matter to her anymore. The past year she’s been with mostly men - they fall much faster, even if it’s only a shallow, physical relationship that ends abruptly.

FEARS ⫻ Nessa has as many fears as she does secrets. She has a deep seated fear of abandonment. From a young age, both parents threatened it - and her mother eventually saw through with it. Forced isolation was her father’s punishment of choice. Because of this Nessa spends every moment she’s with someone fearing that they’ll leave her. Now her fear of abandonment is deeply entwined with her fear of not surviving the cruel reality she’s found herself in. She’s dependent on other people, and each person that drops her leaves her closer to the edge. Because she fears being abandoned, she also fears letting anyone in. It will only hurt more when they eventually leave her - which they will. That’s just reality, and she hates it. Being alone terrifies her, and this all pushes her to form incredibly unhealthy and borderline obsessive relationships.

On top of this, Nessa fears someone finding out who she actually is. There’s the surface level fear of being handed in and meeting a similar fate to her father for something she unwilling participated in. But beyond that, there’s the fear of people’s reactions. Disgust, hatred… All things she feels towards herself but can’t handle from others. But more than anything, she fears that things will never change. She’ll be stuck here forever. And she’ll always just be seen as Vanessa Beaumont, useful Blue-Pink Adept, rather than Nessa, and all the broken pieces that come with her.

WHAT DID THEY DO DURING THE CATACLYSM? ⫻ Nessa was hidden and protected by her dad’s magical protections and many, many mind controlled Paranormal.

FLAWS ⫻ A person of many contrasts, Nessa is a damaged individual. She pretends she’s strong - projecting an incredibly flirtatious, sharp spoken persona. And that is who she is, but she’s also someone who desperately wants to be loved. She jumps from person to person, coming on strong but at a physical, surface level. She tells herself every time it’s just for survival, and it’ll never go any further. But she’s also someone who gets attached incredibly quickly, to an unhealthy degree. When Nessa likes someone even just a little bit she can be aggressively obsessive. That person is the key to her surviving, but also a band-aid over all the insecurities she has within herself. There’s very little she wouldn’t do for a little affection. On the other hand, she holds everyone at a distance. She never lets them in beyond what she wants them to see, hiding all of her trust issues and insecurities. This leads to strange toxic relationships, where she’s both in too deep but it’s barely more than a physical just about exclusive deal. She picks the wrong people, and suffers through abuse she shouldn’t because there’s a chance they’ll end up loving her. She doesn’t know what it’s like to be honestly, truly loved - for her whole life she’s been chasing the love of an abusive father. So she continues to repeat the pattern of enduring for love. But then there’s a sign that they don’t care for her, or something that triggers her various issues, and she immediately lashes out. Explosive fights lead to breakups, which leads to a toxic cycle of dating, obsessing, and getting abandoned.

Nessa is unforgiving and resentful to the people who made her life this way. She’s constantly shifting between blaming everyone but herself, and thinking that it’s really her fault. Really, even though she tries to blame her father it always comes back to self-blame. She hates herself and everything she’s done. Her guilt constantly haunts her. There are days when she doesn’t feel she deserves to live because of this, and makes no effort to. With no healthy coping mechanisms, her many issues manifest in an incredibly snappy and scathing person. She hurts the people around her because of how much she’s hurting. Her love and hate for her father is perhaps one of the things she struggles with the most - and that relationship colours how she is with everyone. She always expects the worst. If someone is nice to her, she waits to see what they want, or goes on the attack before they can get something from her. Because why would anyone actually love her with how she is and after everything she’s done?

_{Backstory
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}
"It wasn’t my fault. None of it was my fault- but I still chose to do it, didn’t I?"

Vanessa Beaumont was born to Charles Beaumont and his wife, Malaya Mendoza, in Cloverfield. She’d fallen in love with Charles and put her own career, as an engineer specialising in military defences, on hold to marry and have a child with him. Charles was an incredibly successful business man, one of the richest and most well known in the city. He had his hands in many industries and the name Beaumont was known across the North Side of the city.

But behind his perfectly polished reputation as the rich tycoon who could save any struggling business was a more sinister man. Charles was a Blue-Pink Adept with great mastery over his craft, and a long spellbook he’d developed via human experimentation. His unique lux blend allowed him to breach Emotional Fields, using curses to manipulate the mind to the point of mind control without active casting. In his mid thirties he began small, with Blinds and weak Paranormal, but with each year he grew stronger. His lust for power meant he wanted to be able to control and change even the strongest Paranormal. So he found stronger and stronger ones, each one cracking under his curses until he morphed their brains into something unrecognisable while retaining their magic.

It was a cruel process. Blue lux used to breach Emotional Fields, allowing Charles access to his subjects' brains so that he could completely rewrite them. Intense pain was normal in the process, and the stronger the Paranormal the stronger they’d fight back. But they all succumbed to him as he grew his spellbook, fine tuning curses to cause pain at just the thought of disobedience and developing more unique and complicated mind altering on the fly curses. It was something he took great pleasure in - and something he could use to one day control not only the city, but perhaps the entirety of Dazzle.

It was this that Charles truly wanted an heir for. A child to inherit his Blue-Pink Lux, so that he could pass down his wealth of spells and have another hand in his bid for power. As he had what he wanted with Nessa’s birth, the marriage between him and Malaya quickly fell apart. They divorced when Nessa was only one.

Nessa was bounced between the two households - but her time was spent with Charles more than it was Malaya. He was the one that had really wanted a child, after all. Nessa’s early years were marked by neglect - pushed to a nanny who only cared about a paycheck with very little in the way of familial love. From a young age she was attached to both parents she barely saw, but never got that affection back. Still, she saw them both…

Then, when she was five her mom remarried. Less than a year later she was pregnant again. Nessa was distraught when her younger half-brother was born, shoved to the side in her second home. She had to watch as he got all the attention she never had. It made her start to act out - and that began to affect her time with her dad too.

So to placate her, he got her a pet cat. Something that actually loved her. Blossom was her best friend - and only friend, because little Nessa just couldn’t make any at school either. She lashed out too much, and very few people wanted to be around the sullen young Beaumont.

Those two years were the best she had. It was the only time she had consistent companionship - something that looked to her for food and safety, but didn’t have any other expectations. There was no need to read ahead of her age just to get a smile from them, or to not cry because it wasn’t ‘becoming of a Beaumont.’ Blossom loved her unconditionally, and Nessa loved Blossom.

Nessa kindled at eight. It wasn’t a natural kindling.

Charles didn’t plan to wait for Nessa to kindle naturally. It could be years - he’d kindled at ten thanks to his parents’ intervention, but Nessa would kindle earlier. After all, there was a lot for her to learn. As for how to cause a strong enough emotional reaction? That was easy.

Nessa’s eighth birthday was the first one her dad attended. Her mom didn’t, but that was fine! At least she had dad and Blossom with her for it. While Nessa was desperate for her mother’s attention and love, it was her dad’s that she craved the most. He only had her. She should have his full attention. And as she turned eight, it seemed she finally was getting that.

Unfortunately for her.

There were no presents. No happy birthdays sung around a cake as she blew out a candle and made a wish. Not even a birthday wish. Only a cat brutally slaughtered in front of her by the very man she’d been so excited to see.

Fear, sadness… and the want for her father’s love. The three emotions combined as she kindled into her three types of lux. There was no sympathy from her ancestors, knowledge that she could barely understand quickly pushed at her before she slipped out of the Kindling-Event recollection.

Nessa cried and shouted at Charles, and she tried to hate him. But she also wanted him to love her - and suddenly he was paying attention to her. He calmly explained why, which she didn’t understand, and apologised - even though it was barely an apology.

The next day he even got her a birthday present. A single earring, beautifully made from one of Blossom’s claws. It, and the subsequent appointment with a piercer, was the only gift she ever got from him. Strong sadness at the companion she’d lost, fear of what her dad could do to her, and that horrible love-hate she felt towards her made her emotional attachment to it stronger than one she’d had before - and it became her Channeler.

Unfortunately, Nessa was a disappointment from the start. Charles hadn’t known his ex-wife was an Adept too, and viewed Nessa’s Yellow Lux as a taint on the perfection of Blue-Pink. But he had to make do with what he had. So Nessa was told to ignore that part of herself - there was no need for protection and hiding with the power they both held.

Now Nessa went from barely seeing her dad to seeing him nearly every day. Mondays and Tuesdays were spent with her mom - watching her love her two other children unconditionally, while only paying enough attention to Nessa to tell her to study harder. But the rest of the week was with her dad. After school she had her ‘extracurricular’ classes with him, on Saturdays it was whole day learning and on Sunday it was special ‘mind sharing’ time.

Charles taught Nessa the basics of Pink Lux first. Reading surface thoughts, speaking to others through her mind, and similar. She practised on the household staff. It was easy with the Blind, though it took Nessa time to get perfect control. With three lux types to contend with, the pure Pink spells were often tinged with an addition of the other colour. An accidental curse as she read a maid’s thoughts had her in bed with a migraine for a day, her nanny’s voice dampened by yellow lux for thankfully only a few unnoticeable moments. Each mistake came with a punishment. Small, for small mistakes. A day spent locked in her room.

For someone so dependent on other people, who’s fear of abandonment was instilled in her from a young age with threats from both sides to leave her, just that was a nightmare.

But they always spent Sundays together, no matter what had happened. They were the days Nessa looked forward to the most… and would look back on with a horrible mixture of disgust and fondness.

Charles would spend the day inside Nessa’s head. Teaching her using his finely honed Pink Lux - correcting her where she’d gone wrong, and showing her the neural pathways to change. Subtle touches that Nessa didn’t even realise were being used on her even as they were demonstrated. From the day she kindled he’d put his curse on her - an infection on her Emotional Field that allowed him access to her mind whenever he wanted. The primary goal of his time in her mind wasn’t to teach her. It was to layer curse upon curse on her, ensuring his complete control of his daughter. These curses were his speciality - triggered by specific thoughts to cause debilitating pain. It ensured she couldn’t disobey him, couldn’t run away and, most importantly, couldn’t tell anyone.

By the time she was eleven Nessa had a basic list of both Pink and Blue spells - from the basics of telepathy to the more complicated mind control, one she naively had no problems with because ‘it didn’t hurt and the Blinds wouldn’t remember.’ Then there were basic curses - blisters that washed away with water, migraines from negative thoughts, making someone's appearance more monstrous. It had taken longer than her dad had hoped - something he made sure she knew.

With her mother, things had only gotten worse. Nessa’s half-siblings were now old enough to truly bother her, and her mom expected her to cater to their every whims. Nessa didn’t want to. She hated them. And eventually she snapped. It started with scathing words at her entitled half-brother, and ended with her blasting him with enough magic to leave him in a dazed, barely conscious state for days.

As an Adept herself, Nessa’s mother knew exactly what had happened. Not only was her young daughter a failure in the one thing she wanted her to succeed in - academics - bringing down her own reputation, but she was throwing around magic with little care for the consequences. Malaya didn’t want to handle it. Nessa wasn’t ‘punished’, in the traditional sense.

Instead her time at her mom’s was drastically reduced to a weekend every few months. Selfish, a failure, not my daughter, you never should have been born. Nessa internalised everything her mom told her as she was thrown away by her.

It was exactly what Charles needed. There was no comfort for having her already distant mother essentially abandon her. Instead, he took her training to the next stage - now there was little risk of her mother getting involved if she found out.

Only eleven, Nessa found herself learning things about her dad she never wanted to know. She was taken to the dark underbelly of his business, the laboratories filled with people he kept deep underground. Cells upon cells of things that could barely be called human anymore. They were Blinds and One-Eye-Opens he’d cursed to become monsters, painstakingly giving them Abstractions while turning them into mindless thralls. Even further through were the ones who were already Paranormal when captured. Mostly human in body, they were in varying states of mind control.

This was where the true lessons began.

“Human experimentation,” her dad explained, “is the only way to further the field of Adeptal studies. How else do you perfect curses and mind manipulation if not on human subjects?”

Nessa was horrified. While her upbringing had been isolated with almost no positive guidance she still knew right from wrong. This was wrong. It was kidnapping and it was torturing people. She didn’t want to participate in it. But if she didn’t he’d leave her just like her mom had… then she’d have no one.

So Nessa tried at first. It wasn’t so bad. She had to start with the most basic - the curse her dad had developed to crack an emotional field, allowing him to gain untethered access to Paranormals’ minds. She started with the weaker Paranormal he had, before moving on to stronger and stronger ones. At the same time she continued to practise the Pink Lux spells she’d learned before, just applying them to people who’s emotional fields she’d breached. It was almost a year before she’d learned the spell to the point that Charles was happy about it.

After that came the dreaded point - being forced to participate in the actual human experimentation. This was the first time Nessa truly rebelled against him. She outright refused. Just the thought made her feel sick.

The words ‘I won’t do it’ had barely left her lips before her mind exploded in pain. Her brain fired off pain signals to every part of her body until she was left curled up, sobbing and shaking. It was unbearable. Excruciating. All consuming. It felt like that moment, the pain, lasted forever.
“I didn’t raise a failure.”
Her dad didn’t say anything else to her. He didn’t have to. Over the year of learning a single curse he’d explained the basics of the rest to her - she’d seen his spellbook. He had cursed her too.

After that, Nessa was left alone for two days at their overly large, yet empty, house. Charles nowhere to be seen, and a nanny only appearing to take her to and from school. She was essentially locked in. Just her, her thoughts, and books that didn’t stand in for human company.

The next time Nessa didn’t refuse. It wasn’t just the memory of the pain, but it was the disdain in her dad’s eyes. She wanted him to be proud of her. She craved his affection more than she’d like to admit, even though he caused her so much pain. She loved him, but she hated him. It seemed worth it for the small compliments she got from him. It almost seemed like he loved her then, like a father should love his daughter.

She knew his love was conditional. It wasn’t even love. He wanted her magic, not her. But it didn’t really matter, did it?

Nessa went into her teens with this constant conflict inside of her. She learned spells that forced people to obey her or face the same agony she was afraid of, desperate for the love of a father she spent the rest of her time pushing the boundaries with. Each failed attempt resulted in that same pain, and the same punishment - isolation. She began to project an outward confidence she very much didn’t feel. All she felt was broken.

She was both a willing and unwilling participant in her father’s crimes. The guilt haunted her dreams, but was she really guilty? She couldn’t say no. But she still chose to do it. She just wanted to be loved.

It was incredibly isolating. Even as she grew and changed in a way that got her more attention outside of her family. She blossomed, becoming one of the most attractive girls in her small incredibly selective (in terms of financial status) school. She made some friends, and started having relationships with people. In a way that was also a way to rebel against her dad - more time spent out of the house, less time forced to experiment.

But it was all shallow. Nessa couldn’t really be herself. She wasn’t entirely sure who she was. As a result, both friendships and relationships rarely lasted. But just like with her dad, she found herself chasing the small glimpse of affection. It was unhealthy, and borderline obsessive, but it was the only thing that made her feel less alone. Less worthless.

Because she was barely more than that to Charles. She didn’t have the same affinity he did with the spells he tried to teach her. It was a slow and painful process. She learned spells to transform blinds into monsters, implanting commands triggered by certain events, manipulating the brain itself. But there was a disconnect that meant she wasn’t as gifted as he hoped. Compared to most her age she was a talented Adept, having kindled so young and learned for so long, but it wasn’t enough. It would only ever be enough if she was as skilled as Charles was - impossible for spells that didn’t quite click for her.

She continued to rebel more, even through the physical pain it caused her. Nights spent at partner’s rather than at home, skipping lessons with him, and barely trying to learn. She began to find herself - even though the person she found was still that messy, conflicted, argumentative failure.

Charles doubled down too. More curses on her, more rules, more isolation. It was a continuous cycle of abuse and pushing back against it that only left Nessa more resentful, and more resistant.

Still he got his goal. At sixteen Nessa began to learn the more important spells, beyond what he viewed as fundamentals. Firstly, the very same curses he had on her. Curses that forced obedience, a type of mind control that was far more sophisticated by the brute force method. Then fundamentally and permanently changing subjects’ brains. Finally, a spell that could cause a painfully slow death.

Spells that Nessa didn’t want to cast, even as she became more attuned to them. She couldn’t deny that some of them clicked. It was that want for people to love her - willingness to manipulate them to do so.

Because her dad never really would. He still viewed her as a failure, even as she learned everything he wanted her too. He’d gone out of his way to find alternatives… even if that failed. She wasn’t named the heir to his business. Her existence was hardly known, even though Charles was prominent.

She could lie to herself that it was to protect her, but really it was to protect his legacy.

She resented him. She wanted his love. She’d never get his love. Nessa went through the early years of adulthood much like she did her teens - dating around, rebelling, and experimenting at her dad’s side. Without school she spent even more time learning and improving her spells. There was no gained independence - she’d been independent from a young age in all things but her magic, and the curses implanted in her brain.

Then the cataclysm hit. Nessa was where she was the majority of the time - in her dad’s laboratories. Thanks to this she was kept safe. They’d been built with state of the art magical technology thanks to the many Adepts Charles had under his control, and there were a multitude of bodies to protect her. Bodies that were, of course, used to help end the Cataclysm.

But not for the right reasons. Charles saw this as an opportunity to finally enact a plan that could take many years - a city wide takeover. When Nyrah the Ravager was sealed he prepared to show his hand. An army of Paranormal under his command… it should be easy with the city in the state it was.

But he didn’t account for a betrayal from the inside. His business partner, a Green-Pink Adept who was the only other person outside of his daughter to know of his plans. She’d been there for as long as Nessa could remember, in the background - a person she barely noticed through her own pain and need for attention. Before Charles could go through with his plan prematurely she handed him over to the Paranormal authorities.

Charles was arrested and all of his assets frozen.

There was little warning. Just enough time for him to pass his spellbook to Nessa - forcing her to promise to protect it with her life - before the authorities took him. Nessa herself had to leave. Their house was a crime scene. She packed everything she could in a suitcase and ended up on the streets.

She was lucky to get away at all, only able to thanks to the finger only pointing at Charles. By the time his daughter’s involvement and his missing spellbook came to light she was gone.

Panicked, Nessa tried to reach out to her mom only to get the coldest response she could. Complete rejection. Malaya cut her daughter off without a second thought.

So Nessa was left alone with almost nothing. All of her cards were deactivated. All she had was what was in her suitcase. She couldn’t survive off that and she couldn’t survive in the Upper District. It was only a matter of time before her involvement came out. Her dad wouldn’t try too hard to protect her.

So she sold what she didn’t need - gold jewellery, her most expensive clothes. And she used some of the money to get a boat to the South Side. She went from having everything she could want in the material world, to having nothing.

Vanessa Beaumont all but vanished.

In the South Side, she went by Nessa Mendoza. Her past and family name were a closely guarded secret, and the case looking for her opened not long after she began her new, much rougher life.

Without any hireable skills, and knowing she couldn’t really work either, Nessa used what she had to survive - her looks and her magic. But she refused to use the spells her dad had taught her. He wasn’t around anymore to give her the attention and love she’d always wanted, so all she felt was disgust towards them. And if she started using them now she really would be guilty. Instead she began to develop her own spells - and finally began to tap into her Yellow Lux. She also began to excruciatingly tear down the curses Charles had put on her mind - breaking them curse by curse until she was finally completely free of them.

Nessa used other people to survive - primarily targeting men, who were much easier to seduce into giving her somewhere comfortable to sleep. Short lived, often incredibly toxic and abusive relationships were what sustained her. The time in between she managed to find somewhere with weekly rent - something she could just about afford with the money from selling her clothes. It was a shit life. But each time she got with someone new, there was that little bit of hope that it might become something permanent - and be a way to get out of the shit hole she’d ended up in.

It never was, and just left her with more scars.

Nessa’s been out of a relationship for almost three weeks. Money’s running out, and she’s starting to get desperate…

_{Paranormal-Abilities
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"I’m just as cursed as those I use my magic on."

TYPE ⫻ Adept

ABSTRACTION ⫻ Blue, Pink & Yellow Lux. Channeler: A cat claw earring

ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻ Nessa is an Adept of two extremes. One on hand, she has incredibly strong spells she was taught for many years that don’t align with her, and on the other a scant list of much weaker spells she’s finally started developing that are actually hers. From her father she learned a great many Pink & Blue lux spells - focused on control and cursed pain. Alone, she’s developed emotional manipulation curses and self protection spells.

The Cursed Contradiction ⫻ A discipline representing curses that Nessa has developed herself, which reflect her and her wants. Currently it is a small list, as she’s only been developing it the past year and a half.

Love is a Curse ⫻ A spell that Nessa developed since losing everything, this pink-blue curses changes people's feelings towards her. None of the versions of it affect those with emotional fields - it’s just too weak at the moment. To perform the curse, she has to be touching whoever she’s cursing.

”Want Me” ⫻ The weakest version of this curse, this curses the target to want Nessa physically. They find her incredibly attractive, and want to sleep with her specifically. The curse can be broken by sleeping with someone - anyone. It doesn’t impact the target's view of Nessa after it’s broken.

”Need Me” ⫻ This curse people to feel like they need Nessa - they can’t be away from her, they feel attached to her. It’s enough for them to want to have a relationship with her, and to look after her. This curse is broken by one of two conditions - after a week, or if the target of their affection (Nessa) says anything negative to them. Afterwards, they will feel more disdainful towards her.

”Love Me” ⫻ The strongest version of the curse, which curses the target to fall in love with Nessa. They will want to give her everything. It’s a magical, intensive form of love. It’s broken by one of three conditions - after two days, if someone questions their love, or if Nessa asks them to do something they would never do otherwise. Often, once this is broken, their feelings for her are the complete opposite.

Cursed Like Me ⫻ A spell Nessa developed to inflict some form of revenge on all the partners that have abandoned her over the last year. It curses them to suffer from crippling self doubt and insecurities. They question that the people in their life like and care for them, fearing that they’ll abandon them. It feels like they’re not good enough and will never be good enough. While this can affect those with Emotional Fields, the curse isn’t as strong. This curse is broken by a genuine compliment.

The Self-Preserving Victim ⫻ A discipline containing Nessa’s burgeoning Yellow Lux, in combination with pink and blue, and other spells that help her stay alive and survive. The majority of these spells are for self protection.

Telepathy ⫻ One of the first spells Nessa learned from her father, she has basic telepathy. This allows her to read one target's thoughts - primarily their surface level thoughts at a distance. With intense concentration and physical touch she can delve deeper. She can also speak to one person with her mind. Emotional fields block her thought reading, but not her ability to mentally send messages (and she can get through Emotional Fields if her Emotional Breach spell is on the target).

Empathy ⫻ Taught to her more by Charles' assistant, Nessa can read and lightly influence emotions. Like her telepathy, she can read a target's emotions. She can also subtly influence their emotions one way or another. With more concentration she can 'blanket' them with an emotion, trying to make them feel one way or another. It's not precise- making someone feel happier, sadder, ect rather than targeting specific emotions.

Alarm Bell ⫻ This spell is a combination of pink and yellow, with a low energy use in it’s ‘dormant’ state. It’s a reactive shield, using pink lux to know when someone has bad intentions towards her - reading their want to attack and triggering magical protection in response to it, while a magical ‘alarm bell’ goes off in her head. This triggered shield is basic, covering just her arms so she can use them to protect herself. It blocks physical attacks and weak magical ones, but nothing beyond that.

Mind Cloaking ⫻ A Pink-Yellow spell coming from Nessa’s need to protect her secrets. This spell protects her mind from all magical intrusion - an extra protection on top of her Emotional Field. It protects her against mind reading and similar that ignores Emotional Fields. It can be targeted to specific sections of her mind - she’s always casting it on the parts of her mind holding her knowledge and memories of her father. This spell is relatively low effort to maintain for a small section of her mind, but takes more energy for full coverage.

Pustulent Protection ⫻ A yellow-blue spell Nessa developed for protection - when cast on herself it means that anyone who touches her is hit with curse that causes painful, itchy boils to cover them, starting for whatever they used to touch her. This is essentially an invisible shield across her skin imbued with a curse. She can keep it up for thirty minutes, and dispel it at will. It affects people with Emotional Fields. The curse can be broken by washing the affected areas with water.

Shielding Curse ⫻ A yellow-blue spell Nessa is attempting to develop to protect her against curses. Combining her own curse magic with a shield, the aim is to have a spell that when cast will prevent curses from working on her - so she never has to worry about getting cursed by someone like her father again. This is somewhat effective at the moment - it helped get rid of the curses that were previously on her. But generally it's ineffective against curses actually cast on her. It still needs a lot of work.

Invisibility ⫻ Nessa’s first pure Yellow Lux spell, one that she’s been working on for a while with little luck. She wants to be able to turn herself invisible so she can get out of all the difficult situations she finds herself in… Unfortunately it barely works right now. When she casts it she’ll turn invisible for a moment, before becoming visible again. She’ll keep blinking in and out of view for a couple of minutes before it stops, making it trippy to witness more than anything else.

The Prodigal Failed Daughter ⫻ Technically Nessa’s first, and most powerful, Discipline. These Blue-Pink Lux spells were taught to her over (years) by her father, trying to mould him to be his heir and follow in his horrific magical footsteps. Directly taught by a master Adept, the spells are incredibly potent and powerful, but Nessa struggles because the spells don’t quite reflect her. She’s always disliked using them, but now that there’s no father’s love to try gain she outright refuses to… unless things are desperate. All of these spells can leave her vulnerable, and some require Nessa to have physical contact with her target. They have a relatively short cast time against Blinds, but a longer one against Paranormal - and are ineffective against them unless she uses Emotional Breach on them first.

Emotional Breach ⫻ The fundamental to the spells taught to Nessa by her father, this primarily Blue Lux spell with a little bit of Pink allows her to gain entry to a person’s mind through their emotional field. This essentially curses their Emotional field, opening up a cursed crack that Nessa can slip through. This allows her to use all of her spells on non consenting Paranormals even if they wouldn’t normally work, along with negating the dampening effect of Emotional Fields on those that worked but less well. It allows her to cast spells on the curse Paranormal as if they were a Blind. This curse can be broken by

Mind Control ⫻ A spell which Charles considered ‘basic’ and ‘impractical’ due to its need for the caster to be actively casting and commanding whoever was under their control. It was one of the first he taught Nessa, as part of the Pink Lux fundamentals. This spell is aptly described by its name - it allows Nessa to control the mind of someone completely, making them little more than her puppet. This works on Blinds, and on those she’s used her Emotional Breach spell on - but not those with intact Emotional Fields. She has to maintain sight of people to control them, and it's difficult to fully control multiple people without giving the same instructions. This control is done completely mentally.

Command Implantation ⫻ An advanced form of Mind Control that Charles developed and taught Nessa. This spell allows Nessa to implant cursed commands within her target’s mind. Since it’s a curse, it lasts until it’s broken and doesn’t require Nessa to spellcast beyond the initial cursing. The spell works via a trigger system. A specific trigger will then result in the implanted command activating - whether a thought, an event, or seeing a specific thing. For example, Nessa could implant the command “buy and bring me a coffee” which is triggered when the target sees a coffee shop or the command “check up on me” when the target thinks about her. The curse kicks in, brainwashing the target to follow the implanted command. With enough time these commands can be layered to the point that someone is completely under her control without further active casting on her part. But to get to this point would take weeks, as each command has to be relatively straightforward. Nessa can, if she wishes, trigger the cursed commands at will - but this makes it essentially normal, less efficient mind control. While she can cast it on people with emotional fields if she’s used Emotional Breach, they can resist the commands when they’re triggered. The curse is broken by a loved one stopping them from following the command it triggers.

Triggering Thoughts ⫻ A spell that Charles considered one of his best, and that Nessa spent years suffering from. Similar to command implantation, this curse is directly linked to the target’s thoughts and is triggered when they think these thoughts. When the curse is triggered the cursed is afflicted by incredible agony. This starts like a migraine before spreading to their entire body, as the brain sends pain signals down all the nerves. This pain lasts for ten minutes. Unlike Charles, Nessa can only set up this curse based on certain thoughts rather than any she could think of. These are: thoughts of hurting her, betraying her, lying to her, leaving her and directly going against her. Each thought a trigger is put on requires a new curse to be cast - it can’t be linked to multiple trigger thoughts. The pain of this is consistent, and happens immediately after the thought - making it near impossible to follow through. The curse is broken by someone showing genuine concern for the cursed when they’re in pain.

Slow Death ⫻ One of the spells taught to Nessa that she hates the most - a curse that causes a long and slow death. It uses Pink Lux to adjust the brain to cause constant, excruciating pain as the brain slowly shuts down. Eventually, they suffer from brain death, but only after a long period of suffering. This can technically kill Paranormals if she’s breached their Emotional Field, but they have an easier time resisting the curse - and managing to break it. The curse is broken by the cursed completely accepting their ‘inevitable’ death.

Lunar Transformation ⫻ One of the many monster transformation spells Charles had that he passed onto Nessa. This curse, which is Abstraction granting, turns the target into a horrific creature by night, while leaving them normal by day. The physical form is whatever Nessa can imagine when she casts the curse (from traditional werewolves to horrific, distorted abominations). They all share a few things in common: paranormal strength, speed, and regeneration. They can hit hard, kill easily and heal from a lot of damage. However they aren’t granted Emotional Fields. Nor do they naturally recognise the person who curses them - but they are especially vulnerable to Pink Lux manipulation. This curse is incredibly taxing on Nessa to cast, and she hasn’t used it since her dad was jailed… but some of the monsters she created are probably still out there. This curse is broken by someone recognising the cursed in their monstrous form (without being told who they are) or by fighting a bear… and winning in their non monstrous form.

Brain Manipulation ⫻ A spell series that Charles was constantly adding to and had Nessa developing alongside her: one that allows for fundamentally changing the mind. This is more than just Mind Control, because it causes permanent changes to the victims’ mind. Those whose Emotional Field’s have been breached by Nessa’s spell can still resist it - it takes much longer to be effective on them. She’s developed and learned various subspells. While Charles had a wide range and could completely change a person, Nessa mostly focused on spells to cause various neurological issues in targets.

Brain Fog ⫻ Nessa’s simplest Brain Manipulation spell, changing the mind to induce Brain Fog in the victim. This makes the victim less aware, struggling to think properly as if there's a ‘fog’ over their mind.

Remove Memory ⫻ Nessa permanently removes a memory from her target. As this is a pure Pink Lux spell, once the memory is removed it can’t be retrieved. Once she’s inside the mind, she can target any memory - but she must remove them one at a time.

Dystonia Induction ⫻ Nessa messes with the part of the brain causing movement, resulting in permanent primary dystonia in the target. This causes uncontrolled muscle spasms and tremors. She can cause dystonia in a specific muscle group, or across the whole body - with the latter taking much longer to cast. This can be cured with magical healing.

Dizziness Induction ⫻ By adjusting the brain, Nessa causes the target to feel chronic dizziness or swaying. This isn’t constant - it’s like many chronic diseases, where it comes and goes without explanation. The dizziness tends to last for anywhere between a minute and ten. This can be cured with magical healing.

Chronic Fatigue Syndrome ⫻ Nessa manipulates the brain to induce Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. This functions almost identically to the non magically induced illness. It causes constant fatigue, sleep problems and everything that comes with it. This can be cured with magical healing.

Cognitive Impairment ⫻ Nessa messes with the brain magically to induce a noticeable decline in mental abilities: namely memory, reasoning, judgement, and completing complex tasks. It can make it difficult for the victim to understand verbal information, along with how to say what they want to, and means they have a lower attention span. The longer this spell is cast the stronger the effect.

Brain Frying ⫻ A spell Nessa developed accidentally rather than purposefully. This spell is cast by overloading the victim's brain with Pink Lux, sending off so many neural signals that the brain is essentially ‘fried’ by magical overload. This, at best, puts the victim into a long term coma - at worst, it kills them. It’s fast, but painful. Nessa has never used it on purpose, only by accident while using Brain Manipulation.

LIMITS ⫻

The Cursed Contradiction ⫻

Love is a Curse ⫻ This spell doesn’t work on people with Emotional Fields. She has to touch whoever she’s casting this curse on. It doesn’t work on people who wouldn’t find her attractive eg. people not attracted to women.

Cursed Like Me ⫻ Nessa has to be within a few metres of her target, and able to see them to cast this. Its effect is dampened by Emotional Fields and they know that it’s been cast on them.

The Self-Preserving Victim ⫻

Telepathy ⫻ Nessa can’t read the minds of people with Emotional Fields unless they let her. Going deeper than surface thoughts requires physical contact and more concentration.

Empathy ⫻ Nessa can't read or effect those with Emotional Fields without consent. She's only able to make generic, singular emotional changes to one person.

Alarm Bell ⫻ Nessa needs to refresh this spell every half an hour if she wants to keep it up, each time taking a bit of energy. The shield only covers her arm, and the alarm bell only gives her a few seconds to react. It only works for attacks, not accidents, as it requires reading the thought of attacking from whoever goes for her.

Mind Cloaking ⫻ Nessa can keep this up pretty much permanently if she is only protecting a small section of her mind, but its draining to shield her whole mind. She needs to refresh it every hour. It’s turned off when she’s sleeping.

Pustulent Protection ⫻ This spell is touch based. While it’s on, anyone that touches her will be hit by the curse - even people she’s friendly with. She can keep it up for thirty minutes, then can’t use it for another thirty.

Shielding Curse ⫻ This spell currently only blocks incredibly weak curses - it would block curses from a newly kindled Blue Lux user but little else. It does help a bit with curse removal, but is slow and ineffective at that too.

Invisibility ⫻ This spell basically doesn’t work right now. It’s useless.

The Prodigal Failed Daughter ⫻ All of these spells, aside from mind control, require Nessa to enter her targets mind, leaving her own body vulnerable as she can no longer control it. Some require constant physical touch - Emotional Breach, Slow Death, Lunar Transformation, and Brain Manipulation (aside from memory removal & brain fog). They also don’t work on those with Emotional Fields unless she’s cast Emotional Breach on them, at which point she can gain access through their Emotional Field.

Emotional Breach ⫻ While Nessa got this to a point her father was happy with, it’s relatively inefficient against people who either don’t consent, or aren’t prisoners. For weaker Paranormal, it will take ten minutes to fully breach their Emotional Field. This amount of time takes longer and longer the stronger the Paranormal are - to the point that it would take hours to make that crack in the Emotional Field of a stronger Paranormal. But given enough time she can get through any emotional field. She can speed up this process by intensifying the magic she uses, but this has a higher chance of failing and will leave her incredibly weak afterwards. Since it’s a curse, it works on all Paranormal, it’s just a long and slow application. Nessa can, obviously, only cast it on one person at a time - but the amount of people she could have this curse on is unlimited, as after it’s cast it requires no maintenance on her part.

Mind Control ⫻ Nessa has to actively concentrate to cast this spell. If her concentration is broken, then she loses her control. The more people she is controlling the more difficult it is, and she can’t fully control them unless she has them all do the same thing. She has to maintain sight of the people she’s controlling. Due to controlling someone else’s mind, she struggles to control her own body from concentrating on that.

Command Implantation ⫻ Each implanted command takes time, dependent on the complexity of it and the mental strength of whoever it’s being implanted in. Some people resist more, making it a long and arduous process for Nessa where she essentially has to fight their willpower. It could take five minutes for those naturally inclined to obey, and hours for those not. Each command requires another cast, going through the process all over again. Paranormal and those with especially strong wills can possibly resist the commands when they’re triggered. Commands have to be straightforward, with clear triggers. She can cast this spell for up to six hours consistently, before needing to have an eight hour or longer rest.

Triggering Thoughts ⫻ Nessa can only set up specific triggers for this spell: thoughts of hurting her, betraying her, lying to her, leaving her and directly going against her. The stronger the will of the target, the longer it will take for the curse to be cast. After each Triggering Thought cast, Nessa has to take a rest at least as long as the time spent casting it. Each trigger needs to be cast separately. The pain lasts for only ten minutes.

Slow Death ⫻ This spell takes at least an hour to cast on a weak victim, nevermind on one with a strong will. It’s draining to Nessa to cast, and she can only cast it once a week.

Lunar Transformation ⫻ This spell can only be cast on Blinds or One-Eye Opens, as it’s abstraction granting. While Nessa can choose the monstrous form they take, the Abstraction granted to them is essentially the same. This spell takes a long time to cast - hours, possibly having to be done over multiple days. After casting she can’t use it again for at least three times the amount of time spent casting it. The cursed creatures don’t recognise Nessa as their creator - in fact it's the opposite most of the time, and she would need to use pink lux to control them.

Brain Manipulation ⫻ All of these spells, aside from Remove Memory, can be cured by magical healing or by another powerful Pink Adept.

Brain Fog ⫻ This takes at least five minutes to cast a light brain fog on the victim, and longer to make it stronger.

Remove Memory ⫻ Nessa can only remove one memory at a time.

Dystonia Induction ⫻ Manipulating the brain to cause this takes at least thirty minutes. A specific muscle group is easier to do, and it would take hours to do it for the full body.

Dizziness Induction ⫻ This takes at least thirty minutes to cast. It can be magically healed. Nessa has no control over how this manifests - how frequent the dizziness occurs ect.

Chronic Fatigue Syndrome ⫻ This spell takes at least an hour to cast, and is draining on Nessa to do.

Cognitive Impairment ⫻ This spell takes at least thirty minutes to cast it at its weakest - causing minor cognitive impairment. To cause stronger impairment Nessa has to manipulate the mind for hours upon hours, and this is incredibly draining on her.

Brain Frying ⫻ This spell is essentially overloading a targets brain with Lux - thus it is incredibly draining on Nessa’s magic. It’s uncontrollable and difficult to use by choice.

WEAKNESSES ⫻ TBD

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"There’s nothing left for me anymore. I’m finally free, but trying to get his love was all I had."

There is a complete lack of presence of Vanessa Beaumont online. Her dad banned her from using public social media accounts, and any images of her were wiped by Orange Adepts he had under his control. Whether this was to not have someone he viewed as a shame to his name or to protect his legacy is difficult to tell.

Nessa thinks she’s free of her dad’s influence. While she got rid of the active curses he had on her, she hasn’t gotten rid of the one on her emotional field - meaning he could easily get back in anytime he wanted to.

_Playlist

The Symphony: Modern Magic

Cailean Aoki

Alt Theme

"I always knew monsters were real!"

_______________________________________________ Cailean Hinata Breòthach Aoki Half Elf, Half Halfling | They/Them | 34 | Japanese-Scottish | 4’5” | 74lbs _______________________________________________ Self-discovery _______________________________________________ Skills & Talents "You’re telling me yous don’t know how to catch a sea serpent? Sit down, this is gonna take a while." ___________________________________ [+] Elvish Upbringing ⫻ From a young age, Cailean was reading whatever books they could get their hands on while being taught about science, maths, herbology and everything else their mum thought would be useful. From her they got their academic intelligence and thirst for knowledge. They’re smart and quick witted (though it doesn’t always show), with a specialisation in chemistry and physics which they did their degree in. Halfling Upbringing ⫻ From their dad, Cailean learned the more ‘mundane’ and simple way of living. Cooking, cleaning, and surviving in whatever conditions. Their dad was an amazing cook, and while Cailean isn’t as talented they did learn from him. He taught them how to be self-sufficient, helping them in their journeys, but also perhaps more important: how to tell a story. While they can’t integrate with other people like he tried to teach them, they’re a great story teller. Monster Hunter ⫻ Cailean always knew monsters were real, and has been training since a young age to capture them. They’re physically fit from climbing up as many munros as they could back in Scotland, they’ve mastered hiding in bushes, and they’ve taken enough blurry pictures of rocks that totally look like monsters to know they’ll be able to snap the real deal. Plus, they’re confident in their seduction skills. Trilingual ⫻ Cailean grew up in a multicultural household, and their parents ensured they learned both of their mother tongues. Cailean’s first language is English, but they speak Scottish Gaelic and Japanese fluently. They’ve picked up a smattering of other languages while travelling.

Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Y’know what they say about people with big feet." Cailean stands out, at a height that’s too short for most races but too tall for gnomes and halflings. Their androgyny only adds to the confusion. They don’t quite fit into any box- courtesy of their lack of attachment to any gender, and their mixed parents. Cailean’s body is relatively flat, slim and hairless, the main area where they take after their mum. On the other hand, their wider face and proportionally large, annoyingly hairy feet are from their dad. They’re an expressive person, the variety of emotions they get shown clear as day on their face. Subtly pointed ears are often hidden under thick, dark waves. They’ve let their hair grow incredibly long- because fuck human gender norms- with it falling down past their ass. How they style it depends on the day. Left loose, twin braids, simple updos or more fancier styles their mum taught them… But it’s well maintained. A point of pride instilled in them by their elvish mother. They have a flat button nose, with one nostril pierced, and thick lips often painted with some soft lipstick. Their round, hooded eyes vary from a glowing amber-brown in the sun to a darker, duller brown in the shade. Their skin is a cooler brown tone and well looked after. They have some nasty scars on their upper legs, and one on their upper back near their spine. The way Cailean dresses varies depending on how they feel. Most typically they favour shirts in varying colours- from more subdued dress shirts to bright Hawaiian ones. These are often tucked into slacks. They like to keep the top few buttons undone, sometimes going further and undoing enough for there to be a risk of flashing that’s not viewed as acceptable for someone afab. But they don’t care- one thing both parents raised them with was confidence in their body. Sometimes they’ll wear dresses and appear more feminine, other times they’ll lean even more into masculinity. They often wear a variety of chains around their neck and wrists, and rings to match. They have various tattoos up their arms and onto their hands. They’re always found wearing platform boots- frequently four inches or above to try and make themselves a more ‘normal’ height. Thanks to their oversized feet, they don’t even have to wear kids shoes!

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"See, I’m travelling to relax right now, so I ain’t looking to get into the deep shit."

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Cailean wants to discover themself. They feel like they don’t belong anywhere. They want to try and find a balance between their two cultures so that they can authentically be themself. Because right now they feel disconnected from both, when really they’re both at once. They want to accept and find themselves. Then, they’ll be able to figure out what they want from life. And one day, they’d like to find love just like their parents.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Cailean believes in freedom, and that people shouldn’t be forced to conform just because of societal expectations. They grew up with parents who embodied it- who loved each other even if it wasn’t accepted. Not everyone fits in a box, and that’s ok. While they struggle to always follow this for themselves, they do truly believe it.

SECRETS AND FEARS ⫻ Cailean hides that the confidence in themselves that they project is false. They struggle with being outside of the norm even when they say to fuck that. But they refuse to tell anyone, especially their parents, just how much they feel like they don’t fit in anywhere- and all the negative feelings they view themselves with.

Cailean fears never finding a place they belong, or a community. They fear always being in this state of drifting. They fear being trapped, and have claustrophobia. Past experiences have led to a fear of violence from those bigger than them (which is everyone), though this isn’t always obvious by the way they push at people and act confident.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Queer. Cailean doesn’t really bother defining their sexuality, just like they struggle to define themself. They’re attracted to all sorts of people (and more beyond that) and no label feels like it fits. They’re a flirt, absolutely down for a bit of fun, but unable to hold down a long term relationship. After all, the one time they did it went bad…

WHAT WAS THE FIRST DAY WITH MAGIC LIKE? ⫻

FLAWS ⫻ Cailean covers up their insecurities with an overconfidence that can come across as arrogance, and lead to them making impulsive, poorly thought through decisions to prove a point. They’re quick to react to perceived slights, expecting to be discriminated against or questioned because of their parentage. Instead of letting things go, they’ll push back or snap. At the same time they can be quite flighty, running away from their problems rather than facing them head on. They struggle to form proper attachments because everytime they have it’s ended up bring them pain. Cailean is someone who expects to be hurt, and pushes people away as a result. They can also be a lot. Cailean is energetic bordering on erratic, loud and often brash. While they’re bright and friendly with a lot of love to give, they don’t really have the best people skills. They’re a master at accidentally saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.

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"Nowhere’s ever felt like home like my parent’s place. Maybe cause things are low enough for me to reach ‘em."

Cailean was born to an unusual union, to parents who defied all expectations with their love.

Her mum, Sìne Breòthach, was from a small settlement of elves that had lived in the Western Isles of Scotland for as long as memory went back. They were a relatively insular community with little interaction with outsiders beyond what was necessary. They kept touch with their roots and the world around them, protecting secrets that could change the world as they knew it. But that didn’t mean people didn’t leave the community. Knowledge was just as important, and what they knew would stagnate without external influence. Sìne was one of the elves that left- obtained a degree, then masters, then PHD before she returned home.

Her dad, Reo Aoki, was from a community of halflings that left their European homelands and ended up in Japan thousands of years ago. They were a tight knit community, intertwined with the human population in a small town. Like all halflings, he left his home for a story finding pilgrimage when he turned of age. Eventually, he found himself in Scotland.

It was here that he met Sìne. Their connection was instant. Reo extended his stay as the two started dating, and very quickly fell in love. After only a few months he proposed to her. But the union of a halfling and elf wasn’t easily accepted- especially not by the elves in Sìne’s community. She was given an ultimatum: leave him, or leave the commune and never return.

She chose Reo. The two moved to Glasgow together, where she got a job as a lecturer at the university while he worked part time in a bakery while looking after the home. His family were much more supportive. They just demanded stories and a visit or two.

Almost five years later, after a long period spent trying, they welcomed their only child: Cailean. Luckily for them, their parents were set on a specific gender neutral name before they even knew the gender of their child. This meant even though they were born a girl, it was easy for them to make their preferences known from early teenhood.

Cailean grew up in a happy, if unconventional, home. It was always full of warmth: with their parents’ love saturating everything. Everything was filled with love, from the way their dad raised them to his home cooking to the after work lessons with their mum.

It was more difficult in school. They were less mature than their human peers, and didn’t fit in with elves or halflings. They felt like an outsider. And as they got older, the bullying started, only isolating them further.

It was difficult to not resent their parents. After all, it was their fault Cailean was this way. It resulted in them acting out as they went into their teen years, pushing the two people who’d always loved them away. For a few years they were miserable.

But it got better. Their parents, after so much time worrying, managed to get through to them. They made a few friends in the last years of senior school. Then, they took a gap year afterwards. Time just spent enjoying themselves and pursuing hobbies, encouraged by their parents. Time where they could mature… not that they did much, when one of their hobbies was ‘monster hunting’ (unfortunately, they couldn’t find Nessie).

Finally, at twenty Cailean did what was expected of them. They went to university. Even with their identity struggles, their grades never dropped. Not with their mum’s constant, gentle tutoring. They got a masters in chemical physics, then got a boring but well paying job.

In their late twenties, they met a man they thought was the love of their life. He breathed joy back into their life where there’d been mundanity. Ruairidh, an elf a good forty years older than them. But that didn’t matter. Social conventions hadn’t stopped their parents, had it? For the first year things were good. Then, when they moved in together, the abuse started. Emotional, first, then physical. They became a shell of themself as they were torn down again and again. It took almost two years for them to get out.

And there they were, in the thirties and moving back in with their parents. All those feelings of their childhood came back. That they didn’t belong anywhere. They were just following a path they felt they should: going to university, getting a job, trying to settle down. They felt detached, and started to slip back into how they’d been as a teenager. Withdrawing. They didn’t know who they were anymore… but had they ever really known? They’d always struggled to accept themself, even if the years they felt loved, but it only got worse.

They felt like they were between two worlds they didn’t fit into. Their mum encouraged them to go back into academics, maybe get a PhD. Their dad thought they should take a break, connect with their community and help him at home. They felt even more stifled in their life and by all the expectations.

They still found solace at home and with the parents that loved them, but what about their own life? What did they do with it? It was their dad that noticed it… and realised they needed a change and to experience new things. A way to figure out what they wanted. After all, they had time. So he encouraged them to do what he did- the Halfling pilgrimage. Explore the world, and find interesting things. Maybe even themself.

So they did. For the last two years they’ve travelled the world using money saved up from the years of work. They visited their dad’s side of the family in Japan and went all around Asia. Then, Africa, and finally they ended up in America. In this time they’ve started to go back to the them before their relationship. Still uncertain, still not belonging, but someone who loved the world and wanted to be a part of it.

That was how they came to Twin Pines three weeks ago. They were following stories of a massive serpent that spewed fire that inhabited the lake. So far, they haven’t found it. Instead they’ve gotten a strange letter - and some magic of their own.

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"This sure is one way to stay grounded."

MAGIC ⫻ Terramancy. Manipulation of rock, earth and the metals within them.

MAGIC DESCRIPTION ⫻

Cailean’s terramancy comes from their connection with the earth and world around them, something both parents instilled in them. They can manipulate the earth around them, or rocks in the area. They’re still figuring out their budding powers, and only have two named spells.

Rock Throw ⫻ Cailean launches a nearby rock, or something else made of earth, towards a specific target. They can control and throw something up to about 30kg, but only in a straight line and up to 30 feet away. The larger it is the slower it’ll be.

Mud Wall ⫻ Using more energy, Cailean pulls up a wall made out of the ground in front of them. This is wide enough to cover two of them, but it’s only directly in front of them. It doesn’t cover the sides or the back and takes concentration to keep up.

There are many things Cailean doesn’t know about their magic yet. One is that they, with enough practice, will have access to metal manipulation too- and the ability to create it from earth. But they haven’t even considered this aspect, as they’re still working with the earth manipulation aspect… honestly they don’t know what the fuck they’re doing with any of it.

LIMITS ⫻

Cailean needs to be connected with the ground to use the majority of their magic. While they can still control rocks they had on them if they were on a higher floor in a building, they wouldn’t have access to many other spells. And their magic is weaker the higher up they are.

They can’t create earth from nothing. It has to exist, and thus they can manipulate it.

WEAKNESSES ⫻

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"There isn’t a monster in the lake? Aye right, I’ve heard that before… I ain’t letting you fool me."

Even though they’re in their thirties, Cailean really has the maturity of someone in their late twenties because of funky elf / halfling aging.