FernStone

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

---

The Overlook, Tuesday Evening

---

While yesterday’s meeting had been an overall waste of time, there had been a few pieces of information to come out of it that were actually useful.

Namely, that Kari’s notes had ended up in the hands of Blake Schmidt - and he ran a group called the Elite. It was one Anya had some knowledge of, but very little. They didn’t run around in the same way 8th Street and Greenwood did. That made them a little more interesting to Anya. Another group for her to manipulate… Her agreeing to get into Schmidt’s head to get the notes for the coven came with other possible benefits for her.

But she had to meet the man first to enter his dreams. Anya knew enough about him, and had heard enough rumours, to know she couldn’t approach him by herself. Not through any means she’d be willing to take. That didn’t mean she couldn’t gain access to him. After all, the rich often knew the rich. She had connections.

All it had taken was a polite message to Ezra after the last coven meeting, requesting their own meeting to discuss business concerns, to have something set up the next day. Efficient, something Anya appreciated when her life was at stake. Even if a dream meeting would be her preference, she’d given the option of a real life one for a reason. Trust, and all that.

She arrived just a few minutes early to the chosen location - the Overlook Bar and Grill, located at the top of the tallest building in the city. It offered a beautiful view of the entirety of St Portwell, while being so expensive and exclusive that most could only dream of eating in it. For those outside of the select few it could take months to even get a reservation.

“Do you have a reservation, Miss?”

”Yes, under Vanburen. Ezra Vanburen,” Anya smiled at the smartly dressed woman at the entrance. It wasn’t particularly busy at this time of the day, but it seemed they didn’t just let anyone in anyway. The staff member raised her eyebrows expectantly at Anya. ”Anya Baksh.”

“Of course, right this way, Miss Baksh.”

Anya just nodded as she followed the woman inside the luxurious restaurant. The tables were made of smooth, white marble with sleek grey chairs facing them. The windows overlooking the city took up the entire outer wall and the two layers of tables around the outside were slowly rotating.

She paused a short way in to look at a somewhat out of place statue among all those classical, beautifully made ones interspersed between the central bar and kitchen along with the smaller ones up in the fake rafters. A short laugh escaped her lips as she stared up at the statue of James Vanburen, before moving on.

“Here you go, Miss.”

It was a bit disconcerting stepping from the central path to the slowly moving outside as Anya was shown to a two person table right beside the window. A perfect location to look out across St Portwell, she noted as she sat down. It made sense, of course, that those rich enough to afford it would enjoy looking down on everyone else.

Her choice of outfit made her truly look like she belonged in the pristine, greyscale, upscale restaurant. A black halterneck top, with subtle geometrical, dark grey patterns when it caught the light, and a layered, grey skirt she had to brush underneath her to sit down properly. She took her dark grey scarf and muted brown, wool coat off once she’d sat down. She turned her wrist towards her to check the time. One minute before they’d arranged to meet. She shouldn’t be waiting long.

It was a few minutes past the agreed upon hour that Ezra arrived at the Overlook, or rather, emerged from the set of swinging doors cutting off the dining room from the back of house. The manager of the restaurant, an older man in a poorly fitting suit, was at his side, talking in a low voice as Ezra scanned the dining room. He gave Anya an apologetic look and held up a finger signalling to her that he’d be another minute before turning his attention back to the other man. Ezra led the man behind the bar, their hushed conversation momentarily growing tense as Ezra ran his finger underneath the counter and then started gesturing violently towards an arrangement of drinking glasses and expensive looking bottles. The manager started speaking even faster, but was cut off by Ezra’s ever so slightly raised voice. If Anya strained, she would be able to make out him saying, “You find this acceptable?”

The pair disappeared behind the swinging doors. Moments later a young man in a starchy white jacket and with the fear of god in his eyes came out of the doors, approached Anya’s table with a pitcher of water in his hand as well as two glasses. He swapped them out with the ones already on the table, muttering an apology underneath his voice, and then went over to the bar where he put their glasses as well as the rest of the offending glassware in a plastic tub and whisked it to the back. Another minute passed before Ezra emerged from the back again, alone this time. He rolled his neck and adjusted his well-tailored suit, discreetly pinching his hand while messing with his cufflinks as if to double-check that he hadn't been transported into some kind of dream world.

“Terribly sorry for the wait, Anya. I was having a word with the owner, Randall, about the decor when, well,” said Ezra, pausing ever so slightly as his eyes wandered and he sat down, turning his focus back towards Anya. “It doesn’t matter really. It’s good to see you again. Would you like a real drink? I’d like a real drink.” Ezra beckoned towards a waiter, “Scotch and soda, hold the soda. And for the lady…”

There was a moment, however slight, that it would feel as if Ezra was about to order for Anya as if to establish some kind of power dynamic, a subtle form of chest beating dominance. However, instead he merely gestured towards her with one hand, his other turning over the steak knife on his side of the table as if he were inspecting it for grime.

In that moment Anya just smiled, a hint of coldness falling across her dark eyes before immediately disappearing. It was a hint at something she disliked - albeit, was used to. Even if he had continued and ordered for her, she would've adapted and accepted it. It was just a little too close to what she experienced in the family home she'd left… but she was never one to let her emotions, minimal as they were, control anything.

”A glass of the Château Lassègue Sauvignon,” Anya said, pointing to it in the wine menu she'd taken a brief glance over before making a decision. A middle range bottle - not the cheapest on the menu, making it look like she couldn't afford to eat here, but not the most expensive either, which would look like she was just here to use his money for an expensive meal and drink. It was always best to play it safe, when the bill paying could go either way.

”It’s nice to see you again too,” Anya watched as the waiter poured water into both of their glasses before leaving with their drink order. ”In the real world. Too much time spent in dreams makes things… difficult. Though I'm surprised by the standards of this place. I would expect them to be exceptional.”

She was talking about, of course, the incident with the glasses that were taken away - presumably dirty. It was the kind of thing that would get on her nerves if she ever ate out, but she didn't quite have the clout to pull it up like Ezra had. It was different than when she was with Sloane, too, who would bring it up in a way that made things distinctly uncomfortable.

”But restaurant standards aren't what we're here to talk about. Should we wait for the first course before we get into business? Or at least the drinks?” Anya tilted her head to look at the bar, before looking back at Ezra with slightly raised eyebrows. As fast or as slow as he wanted - she was happy to get right into what she was here for, or to whittle away at time with conversation before the time was right. ”I certainly need the drink. I've had quite the… tiring past few days. Dangerous and frustrating would be perhaps a more apt description.”

“Normally I’d say we should skip the formalities and get right to it, but frankly you are the business. When I flagged that security team to keep an eye out for you I imagine they were going to be keeping a single stalker at bay, not get caught up in some gangland style bullshit,” said Ezra, leaning forward. “Not that you’re to blame. I’m just worried that the protection I offered might have proven to be…inadequate, given the situation. Much like this place, you’d expect them be be exceptional.”

Ezra was referring to the fight with 8th Street. The security team had been there that night, but they had been grossly unprepared. Then again, it was doubtful that even the best of the best could’ve anticipated the sudden arrival of a hurricane accompanied napalm-like fire bombings, an undead horde of zombies, and a mass hallucinogen all dropped one after another in less than a five minute span. He’d assigned secret service when the situation had called for a suicide squad, the latter being typically quite hard to come by. Willingly, anyway.

“You weren’t injured, were you?” asked Ezra, dismissing the waiter with a wave after he dropped off their drinks.

”Thankfully I wasn’t,” Anya smiled, picking up her glass of wine. She tilted it towards him for a second before taking a sip, smile wavering as she thought back to that night. It had been… a complete and utter mess. The constant bickering was expected. The gang warfare wasn’t, for her at least. ”There was a moment where it was a serious risk. Fortunately, they fled before the largest of them got to me.”

She tapped a finger against her glass with a slight sigh. ”Unfortunately, it will happen again. I could avoid it by avoiding the coven, as I’m neither the target or the one at fault, but without me they're just as likely to burn down the city as they are to make any progress. Anyone else with enough brains to steer them is either too long winded,” Jack, ”discounted for previous actions,” Britney and Greyson, ”or stubborn and lacking in any tact,” Sloane.

”I also didn’t expect gang-like violence from another coven. The ghosts of certain member’s pasts come to haunt us. I doubt it’s something any security team could handle and predict. Perhaps from a certain organisation, but I don’t imagine they are for hire.” She was talking about the Temple… at least from what she’d managed to gleam from the memories she’d been given access to. ”Technically, you have a connection through your half-sister there. I don’t imagine she’d help.”

”But I’m not so worried about that kind of violence. It’s… something the coven is adept in handling. It’s the single stalker I’m more concerned with. That’s my primary ‘business’ today - as you say, I am the business. We have only one lead, and unfortunately it’s fallen into the hands of Blake Schmidt. I’m sure you understand why I would be reluctant to approach him in any capacity, especially alone.”

“Typically I can’t stand to be in the same room as the man until I’m working on my third scotch,” said Ezra with a scoff. As if to illustrate his point he took a healthy shot from his drink, analysing Anya over the rim of his glass. Was it mere coincidence that she was now looking for an in with one of the men whose dreams he had been planning on having her infiltrate? And what was that about his half-sister? Ezra drained his drink, noting to ask about that later. Anya was tricky to read. It was one of the things that made her interesting.

“We should order food before discussing Blake. That man has a habit of making appetites disappear. Have you had a chance to look at the seasonal menu yet? The scallops are shockingly good for something from the Oregon Coast,” said Ezra with a shrug. “Jesus, I sound like an asshole saying that. To be frank, I only really recommended this place because of the drink selection and the view. The food here is fine for what it is, tiny plates of up-charged bullshit that can be found at any run-of-the-mill steakhouse for just about the same quality.”

“We’re actually about two blocks away from the best Korean restaurant in St. Portwell. It’s this shitty little hole in the wall, it smells like bleach, every chair in the place is broken, and it’s all cooked by this old grandma and she makes this bulgogi that annihilates whatever carpaccio, poached lobster, quarter slice of iceberg lettuce and call it a salad bullshit we can get here,” said Ezra with a surprising amount of passion.

He held up his hand as if to slow himself down. There was a little glint in his eye, like all of this might be a test—a way to see how much he could jerk Anya around. Or perhaps it was just the whim of someone who didn’t understand his privilege, who was blissfully ignorant of the fact that not everybody could just walk into the Overlook and get a table, a person trying to appear as if he was a local of the city instead of an opportunistic invader like an Attila, Alexander, or Genghis Khan.

“Look, if you wanna try out the Overlook to say you’ve tried out the Overlook by all means. It is, technically, an experience. Or if you want to have the best fucking Korean of your life that doesn’t involve taking the redeye to Busan then we can just order another drink, you tell me what Blake got himself involved with, and then we can have a dinner that’s actually so good that Blake can’t even ruin it,” said Ezra. “I’m good for whatever.”

“Are you ready to order?” said the waiter, appearing at the table side, the statue of James Vanburen looming over his shoulder.

There was a brief moment of silence when Anya considered it. What was the right answer? Was there even a right answer? Nothing was meaningless to her. Everything she did was for a reason, everything she said was calculated. But here she couldn’t quite tell if it was a test, a game, or genuine ignorance. But if she were to go for what she wanted, properly, for once, it wasn’t the smaller and overly fancy portions of this place.

So she laughed, genuinely, then smiled as she drained her glass. ”No food, thank you. Another glass of Château Lassègue Sauvignon, and… another Scotch, I presume?”

After a pause for Ezra to disagree, who gestured in approval, and waiting for the waiter to leave, she continued. ”As much as I enjoy the atmosphere of classier venues, I’ve never been a fan of small portions nor the general lack of flavour. I was spoiled growing up on Indian and Caribbean dishes. And anyway, I can’t say I feel the need to senselessly brag about eating here. Even if I did, my friend’s will either respond with ‘so?’ or ‘where’s that?’”

Of course, there was the status that came with it, but she’d weighed it up. Who would she need to use that on, when the company already outshone the venue? ”I’ll start with some background. A former member of ours, tragically deceased, had a great deal of information thanks to her… talents. Kari Wilson. It was her house where we were attacked, as she was looking into Father Wolf before he killed her. Her notebooks, containing a great wealth of information, were stolen by the group that attacked us… And sold to Blake. They are encoding, but we need to get them back before he finds someone who can decipher them. For once my covenmates saw sense, and gave the task of influencing Blake to return the notes to me.”

She smiled, almost scornful - at the thought of her coven or Blake, it was difficult to tell. ”I need to meet him to enter his dreams. It’s something I would rather avoid… But needs must. I understand it’s something of an ask, but it is part of protecting the business you could say.”

”This is a happy coincidence. Well, considering the man, perhaps happy isn’t the right word. Convenient, really,” said Ezra, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on them. “Last time we spoke I mentioned needing some help corralling some of my associates. Blake Schmidt is at the top of that list. Without boring you with all the details, I agreed to be part of a joint venture with him before I knew the man well enough to realize the grave error of such a decision.”

Ezra’s eyes moved towards the window, appearing to linger on an under construction skyscraper building illuminated by floodlights. The drinks arrived at that moment. Ezra grabbed his scotch, swirled it, and leaned back in his chair, his vision still focused on the distance.

“There’s an upcoming charity auction held every year at the Harbor Lounge that is attended by just about every blueblood on the West Coast, including Blake Schmidt. It’s ultra exclusive and invite only—you know, want to look like a man of the common people without having to ever be in the same goddamn room as them,” grumbled Ezra. “However, I have an in with the event coordinator, so I can get us a pair of tickets. She’ll be so damn thrilled to hear that I’m actually coming this year. Speaking of family, that reminds me: which half-sister of mine was rubbing elbows with paranormal security forces?”

That was a very convenient coincidence. It made things much easier for Anya. One dream with multiple manipulations was far less draining than multiple dreams. It could all be done in one swift blow. ”Perfect. I appreciate things being sorted so efficiently. Puts my mind somewhat at ease, and I’m certain Blake won’t decipher the notes before then.”

She smiled slightly, taking a sip of her second glass of wine before answering his question. ”Patricia, again. Rubbing elbows isn’t quite how I’d put it… Have you heard of the Temple of Charming and Graceful Individuals? They’re, for most intents and purposes, a paranormal cult. However they have at least two members that subdued some of our best over an irritating Apparition problem. Security forces is perhaps an understatement when it comes to describing them. They followed one of our members into the void, which is a very difficult place to get to. I’m sure those two aren’t their only powerful members.”

”At its head is Lynette Richoux. Patricia is dating one of her sons, Casey. Her second son, I believe. Quite impressive, really. If his older brother meets an unfortunate end at Father Wolf’s hand he’ll be heir to the Temple. I’m sure she’d get some amount of power from being with him… You could very well have cult in-laws in your future.” Her lips pulled into a thin line that was perhaps close to concern. She certainly was concerned - not about Patricia, of course, but the existence of a cult like the Temple wasn’t pleasant to her, as much as Edict did business with them. ”A powerful cult, but a cult nonetheless. They’re quite open about it too, with their hands in a fair few St Portwell businesses.”

Across from Anya, Ezra had his hand on his forehead as if he was experiencing a migraine. His head continued to sink into his hand and push up his hair as Anya continued supplying him with a string of bad news. The scotch in his mouth suddenly began to taste like battery acid. His stomach cinched and tightened and with it came a sudden loss of appetite that no Korean grandmother, regardless of how perfectly she barbequed her bulgogi, could fix. Ezra waited for the statue of James to come to life and start smothering him with a cloth napkin and for the city outside to transmogrify into a hellscape, as this had to be a nightmare, but no such mercy came.

Trisha would join a cult. He chugged the scotch, acid taste be damned, and crunched on the ice. Of course Trisha would join a cult. Ezra resisted grabbing his cell phone and calling her right away, the weight of it growing heavy in his pocket. Of fucking course Trisha would join a goddamn cult!

“Yes, I’ve seen their flyers clogging up the trash bins outside of many of my businesses,” said Ezra, clicking back on his cool composure. “Perhaps they have a few individuals of actual interest, but I wouldn’t put too much faith, pardon the pun, on any New Age Movement bullshit ever gaining any significant traction to become a serious mover and shaker. Scientology and Miscavige massively limited the market cap in that field.”

He started to stand, “Finish your drink. I’m going to have a word with Randall and then we can take off. Excuse me for a minute.”

It was several minutes later when the balding man from earlier emerged from the back of the house, mopping sweat from his forehead.

“I hope the evening finds you well, Ms. Baksh. I would like to apologize for the state of our china. Here at the Overlook we hold everything to the highest of standards and for something like that to be, um, overlooked is purely unacceptable. I’m afraid Mr. Vanburen had an emergency come up with one of his investments and had to leave abruptly,” Randall cleared his throat. “I was asked to pass along a message. He says, ahem, that he’s sorry he cannot take you to a real restaurant, that he will pick you up for the auction, and that he,” Randall tugged on his collar, looking embarrassed to say, “ He will see you in his dreams.”

Randall produced an expensive looking bottle of champagne that was wrapped with a bow.

“I was asked to comp this, as well as everything else you’ll have this evening, for you as a gift to celebrate your, um, and I’m quoting here, you convenient partnership,” said the owner. Shifty-eyed, he glanced over his shoulder, and then quickly added, “I would like to point out that we are a real Michelin star restaurant. I could bring you a food menu, if you’d like…”

Anya raised a hand to her mouth with a fake cough to cover up a laugh. She wasn’t surprised. An investment emergency… if that’s what Ezra wanted to call it, that was fine. It was understandable to want to deal with a family member being part of a cult swiftly and efficiently. It was a shame about dinner, but she could tolerate eating here.

While the state of the china had been subpar, she hoped Randall’s ability to keep his mouth shut was not. While nothing Ezra had said was untrue, it was all too easy to misinterpret. Such ambiguous phrasing… The poor owner probably thought he was witnessing the future front page of St Portwell’s finest business gossip magazine, titled ‘Ezra Vanburen’s latest fling: has he finally moved on from the Russian ballerinas?’. While Anya was generally unbothered, it would be such a pain to deal with and explain. Especially to Sloane.

But she was sure it wouldn’t be a problem.

”No need. I’ll have the crab and compressed watermelon to start, and the scallops with truffle pea puree for the main.” Anya smiled at Randall, speaking as if she’d looked at the menu and decided what to eat in advance… which she had. It was always best to be prepared. After putting in her order, she stared at the man until he finally got the message and left her on her own.

Raising her glass of wine to her lips, Anya’s gaze moved from the gifted champagne to the brilliant sight of the city from the window. With it spread out in front of her like this, it was impossible to not feel pleasure. Above all those inconsequential people leading their tragically insignificant lives. It was like a breath of fresh air after all the days spent corralling the largest group of idiots.

And one day, she would control it all.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

&

Edict & Henri

Linqian’s House, Evening

---

Henri wasn’t having the best evening.

It had started great. An extra workout, pizza, then he went to the Arcade with Louis for a bit. Overall, a great night! Plus, he finally got to spend actual time with Linqian’s closest friend, and they were pretty fucking cool. Henri was so glad there was someone entirely decent around his sister… Not that he didn’t like Greyson! He’d just been completely honest about his original intentions.

But then he’d come back to an unexpectedly empty house. The menu screen of the Twilight DVD he didn’t even know they had was playing on loop, screen the only light in the living room. There was even a half finished beer.

”Jie?! Aryin?!” He shouted up the stairs. No response… and he knew his sister couldn’t sleep through him shouting like that. Plus, she’d never leave the TV running. He frowned, turning it off and switching on the living room light instead. Where had they gone?

Oh… he could just call them!

Henri plopped himself down on the couch and pulled up Linqian’s number. Humming to himself, he held his phone to his ear as it started calling. Buzz, buzz, buzz… huh, why could he hear a ringtone? Strange.

His head turned to the side, and he saw a phone screen lighting up from down the side of the couch. Fuck! His sister’s phone was here… there was another phone too. They’d left their phones! What had happened?! There was no sign of a break in… it was fine. Deep breaths, Henri. Maybe they’d been so exhausted and gone to bed. Or they just went out to get more beer and forget their phones. It was fine.

He could wait. No problem.

Minutes… hours… days…

At least it felt like hours and days. In reality, it had only been twenty minutes since Henri came back to an empty home when the door pushed open.

”Fucking hell, just one fucking night to relax, that’s all I want! Fuck, you owe me another beer for that, bitch.” Linqian pushed into the livingroom, giving Henri a tired stare. He immediately jumped up, before freezing.

Linqian looked like shit. Her left arm was limp, clearly more than broken, and the bone was completely sticking through her skin at her shoulder. Blood coated the whole upper section and the oversized t-shirt she was wearing did very little to cover the burns all over her body. Bruises were blooming across them too, and she was visibly limping as she made her way over to the couch and collapsed on it.

”What the fuck happened, Jie?!”

Aryin tossed Linqian the head of the zombie before she crossed her working arm over her chest, trying to have some modesty on top of the black sports bra. ”Would you believe me if I said there was an immersive zombie arcade event at the 317,” Aryin paused as she looked over to Linqian, ”I’d offer to get back into cosplay but I’d need both arms,” Aryin laughed as she walked over to the kitchen and grabbed two beers and walked back to Linqian offering her one. Her shattered arm screamed in pain as she moved but she was going to figure out a way to fix this before showing weakness.

Linqian caught the zombie head with her good arm, resting it on her chest as she took the beer. She practically downed it, hiding her grimace of pain from the burns across her body scraping against the couch. It was especially bad on her fingers…

”What’s 317?- wait that's not important! You're both really badly injured! You need to go to hospital!” Henri looked from Linqian, to Aryin. ”Also do you want me to get you a t-shirt?!”

”We’re fine,” Linqian waved it off. Of course she wasn't. She was in agony, from the arm so broken she was unsure if it could be fixed by mundane means to the second degree burns, deep gashes and busted knuckles and knees from punching. The only place it didn't hurt was a few areas were the burns were bad enough to destroy nerves. ”Here, catch!” she put her beer down and threw the zombie head back to Aryin.

”A tshirt would be lovely. If you go up to my room, the top right drawer on the long dresser is my sleeping shirts,” Aryin paused as she sat down on the couch. She realised in that moment that her hips were utterly fucked as well, nothing broken just heavily stressed and sore from holding back Scott fucking Reese. Aryin tried to catch the head but her other arm refused to move and the head knocked off her head, falling to the floor with a plop. ” No, no no hospital for us we’ll be fine. Linqian, you have your self healing spell right,” Aryin asked as they rotated the zombies head with their foot.

Linqian laughed. Once she started, she couldn't stop. Henri gave her a strange look, running out the room and up the stairs.

”My self healing spell doesn't fucking work yet, bitch,” Linqian said as her laughter ceased. She grimaced, stretching out her good arm. One finger raised as if to draw Aryin's attention to it. A demonstration. It started to glow brighter and brighter, and Linqian expression got worse until she was biting down on her lip so hard it drew blood to hold in a scream. As the glow stopped the finger was… just as fucked up before. ”Hurts so much fucking worse than the injury too, I'll fucking pass out. We can sleep it off then fucking call up Sully tomorrow.”

”No way!” Henri shouted as he came back out with a shirt for Aryin and a pair of pyjama shorts for Linqian. He handed them to them both respectively, before standing in front of them with his arms folded. ”You can't stay like this all night!”

”I mean,” Aryin laughed as age watched Linqian experience pain, ”we’re kinda used to it. Do you know how many nights were spent like this a decade ago? It’s a weird thing to say but we’ve had sleep followed by healing a lot more than once.”

”Yeah, it really isn’t that bad. Gotta prioritise those who’re dying or passed out, y’know, we can fucking get through it,” Linqian shrugged, before pointing at the zombie head underneath Aryin’s head. ”C’mon, you’re fucking losing at one armed catch.”

”You both have an arm you can’t use! You’re more burn than not, Jie! You- call the coven healer!” Henri hit them both with his hardest glare which… was pretty pathetic and panicked more than anything. Because he was panicking! It hurt him to see his sister and Aryin like this… he didn’t understand why they wouldn’t listen!

”This is a first,” Aryin said as she looked at her broken arm, ”I don’t think I’ve really broken a bone before in this form, and I don’t think I’ve ever lost at one armed catch,” Aryin paused as she put the beer down and grabbed the head and tossed it back to Linqian, ”do we even have a coven healer anymore? Sully is Greenwood now.”

”He’s fucking Sycamore first… And why can’t he be both? You’re 317 and Sycamore… unless you’re fucking abandoning me to the wolves?” Linqian raised an eyebrow, grunting as she caught the head with her one hand and chest. She then lobbed it back. ”Well, loads of firsts for you today… fucking hell, at least my fucking defensive spell worked, I’d be dead if I didn’t have that shit.”

”Fuck you bitch you just got me back. I’m not going anywhere you fucking whore. Especially with us just fighting Scott fucking Reese. ”

”Dead?!” Henri practically wailed. ”That’s it. You’re going to a hospital! Or- or else!”

”Or else what,” Aryin caught the head and went to dribble it, but the head did not have the bounce that she expected. She picked it up and tossed it back. ”Are you going to hurt us with your words?”

”Yeah, Yi-er, what’re you gonna do? I love you, but you don’t have any power here,” Linqian laughed lightly, catching the head again. She spun it in her hand… proceeding to almost drop it and having to catch it with a leg. She then threw it back and gave Henri a reassuring smile. ”We’ll be fine, really, Didi.”

Aryin caught the head and thought, for just a moment, that the two of them may have a concussion as she looked at the zombie's head.

”No, no, no, I’m not accepting that. You’ve forced my hand!” Henri pulled out his phone, finding the person who he could see enacting justice. Someone who his sister might listen to… and even if he didn’t, Henri really needed the emotional support.

After a moment of hesitation, he called Greyson, hoping he’d pick up quickly… And as soon as he picked up (or it went to voicemail), he shouted down the phone, ”I need your help, it’s Jie and Aryin, they’ve gone mad!”

The phone rang, rang again, and a few more times before it was actually answered by a blase voice. Though, not so blase for long as Henri’s panic was crystal clear over the phone.
”Henri!? What’s wrong, what’s happened? Is it Wolf? Wh-” he expressed himself with loud and clear concern, being interrupted by the frantic caller on the other end.

”Henri, we don’t need to bother whoever you called. We’re fine,” Aryin shouted as they pulled out their phone. She took a quick photo of herself and Linqian. Zombie head painfully visible in her lap. She then took a selfie, her arm painfully bruising already, and made sure that she included the zombie's head. She opened up her message app and sent the photo with a ‘your lessons worked’ and sent the photo to Leon. Aryin giggled before she winced. She looked down at her arms and the rapidly spreading bruises and her smile faltered for just a moment. That moment quickly passed and Aryin tossed the head at Linqian.

Henri just narrowed his eyes at Aryin. ”No, not the wolf- but they're both really badly injured and refusing to go to a doctor or some magical healer or something! They won't listen to me and I think they plan to sleep it off but I don't think they'll wake up tomorrow and I don't know-”

”Yi-er, we're fucking fine,” Linqian interrupted loudly, catching the head with her body more than her arm. It hit her abdomen and new pain erupted as she felt her rib move. Fuck she'd forgotten it was broken… sharp, stabbing pain radiated out that had her curling around the zombie head. She quickly started laughing, almost deliriously, as she hugged the head.

”You’ve got a bone sticking out your shoulder! Neither of you can use an arm! There's blood everywhere!” Henri shouted, clearly getting more panicked by the minute. ”I really don't know what to do… please help me fix them, Greyson.”

There was cold, abject silence on the other end of the line… Like Henri could hear a pin dropping from within. Any reaction probably would’ve been better, so when a gentle chuckle started to echo across the dead space, maybe it was salvation for Henri’s anxiety.
”You gotta learn to do it, Man… We’ve been talking about your healing potential for, what, like a week and a half now? Listen: Your sister and Aryin, they’re both pretty hard to kill. If it was just a little scuffle, they may look beaten up… But they’ll be fine in a few hours. For now, I want you to just help them out, get them what they need, and let them do the magic that Adepts are supposed to know how to do.” he offered such light advice, Henri may have found it callous…

Being the person he was, Henri took it well… though he really didn't think their arms were going to unshatter themselves in a few hours! But that wasn't the point. Well it was part of the point he was freaking out about how injured they were but sure, magic existed, they all had healing potential! Greyson was right he had to learn it and really Henri needed the moral support but it wasn't just that. The real point was…
”W-well yeah, but it's not only-” Henri looked over at Linqian and Aryin furtively, before covering his mouth with his free hand and lowering his voice. ”Physical, it's mental too… I think their heads are fucked up, maybe they got hit by some magic, they're just- FUCK FUCK STOP THROWING THE FUCKING HEAD AROUND!”

There was a distinctive thud that would be heard over the phone, from Linqian lobbing the zombie head right over Henri's head. It was quite an impressive throw, considering she only had one arm, managing to actually get it over his six feet in height from where she was lying.
”Then get off the fucking phone.”

”No- really they're just lying around giggling and tossing a zombie head with one arm and I really think their brains are fucked up!” Henri hissed into the phone, more confident now that his sister had lost her one weapon to use against him.

Greyson scoffed on the other end.
”They’re exhausted, Dude. You fight zombies, see how you do; the other week there was this gi-... Not the point… Fuckin’, do you really need me to send someone over there? Because if you really want Big Bro to take care of all your problems for you, I will. But you’ll never live it down, and you’ll certainly never learn any lessons from it.”
He took an audible puff from his cigarette.

”That makes sense, right? Like, if you’re sure death is coming and you need the help, just say the word. But… Are you sure that you’re sure?”

”Wellllll… I'm not like… sure sure... Let me like… check…” Henri really wasn't so sure now. And he really didn't want to never live it down that sounded like a nightmare! He was already, like, the butt of so many jokes by those guys! So, in his infinite wisdom, he decided he might as well make sure. He shifted his phone to his left hand and walked over to Linqian, squatting in front of her. His lips pressed together as he tried to look for the worst of the damage. It didn't seem like she was going to die immediately but also he had very little medical knowledge…
”Sorry, Jie, Aryin!” he switched the phone to speaker, putting it down on a gap between the two on the couch, and reached out for both of their shattered arms.
”Just gonna see if it can- what the fuck, Jie, your arm feels like jelly!”

”Get the fuck off me oh my fucking god- yeah that's what happens when you-” A brief moment of clarity broke through Linqian's likely concussed mind, and she looked down at that phone. ”That Greyson on the phone?” Then she looked at Aryin. ”Should we tell him?”

”We’ll have to tell everyone at some point,” Aryin sighed as she looked over to Linqian, ”Greyson we fought Scott Reese tonight. He’s still alive.

”Pretty sure I burnt his dick off,” Linqian added, feeling it was important information to add.

”Isn’t that chainsaw fun?”

”Oh fuck yeah, it was awesome, can I have it-”

There was another long silence on the other end before a far more grim voice began to direct Henri.
”Alright, I’m coming. Henri, I need you to get out to your car: Be very careful, and very watchful. If you see a douchebag with black curly hair and skin like the Devil, you better run for your fucking life back to my apartment however you can… But in the trunk of your car, you need to pull the rug up and take out the black box sitting underneath! Inside, there should be little green packets of shit, so I need you to get tweedle dee and tweedle dumb to eat them as soon as possible. Did you get all that!?”

”Yes, I got it-”

”Tweedle dee and tweedle dumb, do you want your fucking dick burnt off too, Greyson?!” Linqian leaned over towards the phone that Henri had very stupidly put on speaker mode, before a whole host of colourful swears came out in a pained gasp.

”He’s right! I got it all, Greyson, I’m on it! You know where we live right, I’m going to my car!” Henri turned around and practically sprinted out the house… leaving his phone.

Still on speaker, his frantic movements half-muffled Greyson’s admonishment.
”You go ahead and explain to me how you managed to pick a fight with the only supremacist not shaving his fuckin’ head, Linqian, and maybe I’ll take back what I said if it wasn’t your fault!”

”A ghost pirate ship appeared in the sky above the 317, opened fire, opened several portals that spewed out zombies with guns, opened fire, and Scott dropped from the ship and landed with this superhero-like pose, Aryin paused as she sighed. ”I pulled Linqian into the fight. She wasn’t going to let me go alone.”

”There were people less durable than us behind us. We did what we had to, to protect them.”. Aryin stopped talking as she began to hum the 500 miles song, it was completely stuck in their head.

”He landed with a fucking dickish pose- but yeah I got dragged through a painting into a literal fucking warzone and stopped people from fucking dying! We were having a great fucking evening-” they didn’t even get to finish Twilight- ”Technically I jumped into the fucking fight but it wasn’t really a fucking choice. We’re perfectly fucking fine anyway, you and Yi-er are completely overreacting.”

”Scott Reese? You’re playing with the Stygian Snake’s favorite cocksleeve and you want to say I’m overreacting? You’re lucky you’re alive, a fucking decade on I’d be hard pressed if that dude didn’t find some way to bypass Phantombanes, never mind dealing with you two meatheads!” he barked through the phone at the two of them, his inflection clearly strained.
”Where the fuck did Tall, Dead and Racist go when he was done putting the spurs to you both?”

”We sent him to fucking Ohio through the art dimension,” Aryin choked out between fits of a madness filled laugh, ”he’s in fucking Ohio.”

Linqian went from real pissed and ready to throw Henri’s phone at a wall, to also laughing- a laugh that was interspersed with very pained coughs.
”Fucking- the fucking ass end of fucking Ohio, probably reallyyy regretting picking a fight with a buncha magical artists- oh fuck, that hurts, haha- fucking Ohio!” She continued to laugh, before forcing out a bit more that wasn’t just talking about Ohio.
”We kept fucking fighting after he was gone, anyway, so we’re perfectly fucking alive after getting cannonball blasted away from his spiky ass.”

“Hey,” a voice came from behind the couch. A bloody face emerged from the painting.

”And who the fuck is that with you?! One of your art-hoe friends, Aryin!?” Greyson groaned.

”Stop fucking coming into my livingroom!” Linqian said, twisting around to look at Alex. Then, to the phone. ”Yeah the fucking painting teleporter. A fucking uninvited guest.”

Alex turned their head as they smirked. Their arm emerged with a twenty four pack of the St. Porter beer. “Am I invited now?”

”Oh fuck yes, take a seat- would you pick up the head for us?” Linqian gestured for Alex to come in.

”I got the weird green- WHAT THE FUCK?!” Henri ran back into the livingroom, house door slamming behind him, chest heaving from having sprinted all the way down the street to get to his car. He pointed at Alex. ”Who are you, why are you covered in blood?! I- I- fuck are we going to die?!”

”Henri, it’s fine… Just give them the stuff!”

Alex pulled themself out of the painting and placed the beer on the ground. They walked over to the head and picked it up, maintaining eye contact with Henri. They raised their nose up, and squinted at Henri. “Heads up,” they whispered as they tossed it towards Henri. “It’s my blood, don't worry.”

”What- fuck!” Henri somehow managed to catch the head underneath his arm, looking down at it and grimacing. He immediately dropped it back on the ground and ran over to Linqian and Aryin, holding out the little bags of green liquid. ”Drink them!”

Linqian looked at the very suspicious liquid, then at the phone, then at Henri. ”Yi-er, I love you-”
”Oh my fucking god Jie don’t start-”
”-but I’m not drinking the fucking green goop that was hidden in your gifted car that’s probably Leon’s magic vomit or some shit.”

Despair only grew in Henri’s eyes as he shoved the packets forward, shaking them.
”Please?” Then towards the phone.
”Greyson, please save me, I think I’m in hell.”

”I can only walk so fuckin’ fast, Kid! Just- Just, fuckin’ be persistant! I’ll be there soon!”
Henri would be able to hear the soft bing of an elevator door either opening or closing. Either way, Mr. Fix-it was on the case. It’d only be a matter of time before he was standing in the same room as them.

Alex walked over and grabbed a beer, turned out in its side, punched the side as they opened the top and shotgunned the beer as quickly as they could. “I’ve been to art hell,” Alex paused after they finished the beer, “art Satan was really cool to talk to.”

”Oh is he? Can you introduce us?”

“No.”

”Is he hot?” Linqian asked, gesturing to one of the beers in a very obvious ‘give me one of those’ motion while still ignoring the weird green packet Henri was shoving towards her.

Alex looked at Linqian, to the beer, to Linqian, back to the beer, and back to Linqian. “Ohhhhhhh,” Alex sighed as they walked over, grabbed a beer, and walked it over to Linqian and passed it to her. Linqian took it and immediately started chugging. “He was on fire so I think he was hot, yes.”

Henri frowned, picking back up his phone and switching it off speaker mode so Greyson didn’t have to hear all of the chaos. In fact he didn’t need to hear any of it at all…
”I’ll- I’ll see you soon! I’ll make them drink this by the time you get here, I swear!”

”Greyson alone won’t make us drink that shit either.”. They too were passed a beer by Alex and it was finished within a few seconds.

---

Henri hadn’t done what he said he would… But Greyson didn’t know that until he burst through the door with his tactical Thompson and his bulletproof Temple-Enchanted vest covering his typical high-class business attire. The Suit-and-Tie Assassin let himself through the front door with vigour, arriving to a scene he really didn’t want to deal with.

Linqian was lying against the arm of the couch with her mostly bare legs swung over the back of it. It was the opposite of a nice sight, since her legs were much more burn and bruise than they were skin. The oversized t-shirt Aryin had lent her had ridden up to reveal a very bruised midsection, and the horrible wound on their shoulder with a bone sticking through was even more obvious. The back of their head, hair still pulled back into a tight bun, was still sticky with blood, somehow. There were three crushed beer cans on the couch beside her. But most importantly, the zombie head was in her hands… well, single useable hand. She raised it up and lobbed it over to Aryin. ”Getting tired yet, hoe?”

Aryin caught the ball with their good arm. The shirt that Henri had brought down was missing, and Aryin was once again rocking just the sports bra and pajama shorts. The shorts themself were crusted with the blood of the zombie horde. Their arm even more bruised than before, Aryin visibly winced any time the arm swayed. ”What part of unlimited stamina does your single brain cell forget,” Aryin laughed as she tossed the head towards Alex. They then grabbed their fourth can of beer and drank from it with a passion.

”Oh I’ll show you fucking unlimited stamina in a minute.” Linqian half heartedly shoved a bare foot towards Aryin, wincing in pain.

Alex caught the head and looked towards the armed and dangerous man. They considered tossing it his way. A second later their demons took control as they raised their head up. Their eyes squinted as they looked at Greyson. The blood that caked their face had long since dried, and began to spit in long lines. “Heads up,” Alex whispered as they tossed the head up in the air towards the well dressed man. They turned their attention towards their can of beer, sitting next to five empty cans on the table, and took it and she took a big drink from it.

Henri was slumped in front of the couch, one packet of green liquid held in each hand. He was making continuous shoving movements with it towards Aryin and Linqian, to no avail. As he turned his head around to look at Greyson it was obvious he was on the verge of tears.
”I’m so sorry, I really tried.”

Staring at the sad, sad scene before him, Greyson shook his head and let the submachine gun drop from his shoulder. Swinging down, the barrel nearly tapped against the floor as it hung from the single-sling.
”You. Two. Need. Help. Like serious professional help…”
Moving to poor Henri, he gave a pat on the shoulder as his right hand outstretched.
”Where’s the fuckin’ goo?” his voice was stern, not exactly comforting despite the gentle hand. Truly it seemed to be the little things sometimes…

”Ohhhhh Mr. Murder Wall is lecturing us over need fucking therapy, please,” Linqian slurred, unsure if her struggle to speak was the pain or the alcohol… probably both. She was even more delirious than she had been before, meaning she returned to her base instincts… being extra easily pissed off. She raised her good hand to flip him off as she glared at him through blood stained glasses.
”Fuck off.”

”Here,” Henri pulled back both hands and held up the packets to Greyson. He hung his head, simultaneously feeling like he’d failed by not seeing through on his promise but also relieved that he didn’t have to deal with all of this shit alone anymore.

”I don’t need therapy,” Aryin paused as she pointed towards Greyson. ”I just need a couple more drinks and I’ll be fine. Besides, my arm is not- owww,” Aryin paused as the radiating pain increased in severity. ”Not that broken,” Aryin finished as she eyed up the green goop with a tiny bit more interest than before.

Greyson ruffled Henri’s hair.
”I know, Buddy… I should’ve been here earlier. It’s alright.”
Shifting his body, he pointed at Linqian and Aryin.
”And you two should be fuckin’ ashamed… Scaring this poor kid like this, and where’s your fuckin’ pals, Aryin? Huh? Most magical troupe of artists on the West Coast and nobody can muster up a healing spell? Fuckin’ sad.”

Taking a couple beers, he cracked them open and turned his back to the girls so they couldn’t see him swigging out of both bottles. He just had to make room for the Temple juice, which he squeezed a packet of into each bottle before swirling them around and handing them off to Linqian and Aryin.
”Here! Drink, drink, it’s fuckin’ good. Aryin, don’t lie to me and tell me you haven’t sucked some of this down already at Leon’s…”

”l,” Aryin paused as she took the beer and shifted her eyes to Linqian, ”plead the fifth”

”She was too busy sucking something else down I bet,” Linqian cackled. Before she took the beer, she pointed a finger at Greyson.
”Don’t blame the fucking artists, or the hippies. We bailed soon as the feds turned up. I wasn’t sticking around to get arrested for tryna bible bash Bianca that last time.”

”Plus everyone else was hurt worse. Jason had charcoaled hands, Thomas had no hands left,” Aryin paused as she looked to Alex.

“I nearly died,” Alex chuckled nervously as they took another big drink from their beer.

Linqian took the beer, not even a little bit suspicious. After all, her brain was running at the pace of a snail. She saw beer, she wanted beer, no fucking questions asked. She knocked it back pretty much immediately, drinking half in one go.

”Cheers you fucking bitch,” Aryin said as they matched Linqian’s drink.

It was only a few seconds after the two fools started to chug on their new beers that the changes started happening. Broken bones would feel the magical compulsion to remake themselves whole from the most complete source. So, bones broken away from their settings would hiss and bubble away to nothing as a new bone crawled its way through the flesh to return homeostasis to the host.
Leeching from the body’s natural Lux, the Key Lime Pie filling the Temple developed as a fast acting first aid relief did its job with zero compulsions toward comfort. The worst part was the redevelopment of nerves, whose endings had to be reconnected to the brain and would only do so after an agonizing self-suturing process.

It was, sometimes, necessary to be drunk for the shit to do its job. The body naturally fought it, after all, as something like an invading spell or bacterial entity. So as the mixture did its job and the pain started to make itself known, Greyson had already backed off and taken Henri under his arm.
”Gotta trick ‘em when they’re like that, Bud. I know you were scared; and so that’s what we’ll work on next. Can’t get like that.” he did his best to instruct.

Henri nodded almost frantically, looking at the pair with wide eyes.
”I came home and they were gone, and then they got back looking like that, I just panicked!”

”Don’t be- oh fuck.” Linqian had been in a bit more pain at first, but it didn’t take long for it to increase. The bone stuck out of her shoulder dissolved, and her whole arm began to twist itself back into the right shape. The shattered bones righted themselves by snapping back through already torn muscles, beginning to melt back together. Her broken ribs were easier, less painful, but it still fucking hurt… then came the muscles reforming, stitching themselves back together as her concussion was also painfully healed.
With it came a new level of clarity, and she pointed a trembling finger at Greyson.
”You fucking ass- FUCK ME FUCK-”

Her clearer thoughts were absolutely obliterated by the worst pain imaginable. All the spots across her body that had gone numb, nerves completely burnt away, felt like they were on fire. It was excruciating as they reformed, places where she never should’ve been able to feel again suddenly feeling far too much. She curled into a ball with a pained moan, cursing more and more violently in three different languages. It was worse than the constant pain from all her injuries, her vision blacking out for a moment… but then it was done. The following healing felt like child’s play in comparison, even though it was still agony as the layers of muscle and skin healed from all the burns and gashes.

The first thing to be healed for Aryin was their concussion. It was like two giant presses were closing around her skull. It was intense, painful, and as her clarity returned she felt a sensation in her arm that was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Aryin tried to remain composed, and the smile that crept across her face indicated that she was not willing to appear weak in front of her friends. She took several deep, raspy, breathes as she tried to breathe through the pain but there was only so much that she could withstand.

Aryin fell to her knees as the completely bruised arm began to return to its normal color. The bones that had shattered began to reform the complete bone inside her arm, forcing the collapsed meat of her arm back into their normal place. The nerve pain was the final bit of pain she felt and it was the worst yet. Aryin simply balled her hands into fists and placed them on the ground, leaning forward as they did. A moment later it was over.

”How-” Aryin paused as she looked up at Greyson, ”how do you know what I may, or may not, have experienced at the temple?”. Their head may be healed but sadly it did little for Aryin’s one track mind.

”Leon definitely fucks and tells, Aryin, I’m sorry to have to be the one to fucking tell you,” Linqian groaned out. She finally unfurled herself, immediately looking over at Henri. Shit. How did she even start to apologise for this… fuck.

”I mean, same so I can’t be mad Oh my god, Linqian we were tossing a- Aryin gasped as she turned towards the door and saw the zombie head, ”did we take a trophy?”

Linqian could only nod and look away, pushing her glasses up onto the top of her head as if her not being able to see her brother and Greyson would somehow make them disappear.

”Alex, do you have a concussion too? You were tossing the head as well.”

“N-…..yes. Yes I totally do,” Alex paused as they grabbed a fresh beer and took a giant drink from it, “no, no I don’t. I’ve never been in a fight before so I just thought that’s what you do after a fight.”

”Which is it, Chucklefuck? Concussion or nah?” Greyson asked with a stern voice.

“No,” Alex paused as they took several steps back from Greyson, holding their beer up close to their face, “I was healed at the 317.”

”Oh my god,” Linqian whispered. She looked over at Henri… who was just a blur. Reluctantly her glasses went back over her eyes. Then she swapped to a completely different language - Kituba, because someone had fucking learned Chinese. It was much clumsier, but it did the job for what she wanted to say but was too embarrassed to say in front of everyone.
”I’m so sorry, Henri.”

Henri just looked at her. ”Say it in a language everyone understands, then.”

”我要淹死你 (I’m going to drown you).” Linqian snapped back, narrowing her eyes at Henri. One fucking thing and suddenly he’s talking shit to her as if she didn’t sacrifice so much shit for him for years. He can deal with one fucking near death, zombie catch incident! Fuck.

Greyson’s hand lashed out, tapping the back of Henri’s noggin.
”Don’t talk shit to your sister. What’s done is done, now don’t make me break your arm and have you drink the green shit… She just went through something very painful. Apologize.”

”She threatened to drown me!” Henri threw up his hands.

”Oy,” Linqian stood up, stumbled, then managed to properly stand and point at Greyson.
”Don’t you fucking dare even consider touching his fucking arm or I’ll break yours. Actually I’ll break something you’ll miss so much fucking more.”

Aryin simply stood up without a word. She did not make herself the centre of attention but she wanted to have Linqian know she had her back here. They simply crossed their arms and kept an eye on everyone. A moment later Alex took a few steps forward and mimicked Aryin.

”Oh, break it off inside, Linqian! Fuckin’... Your brother calls me crying about how you’re delusional and fucking wounded and how he doesn’t know what to do, then I try and defend you from his attitude and you treat me like this? Get bent…”
He threw his hands up, turning to move back toward the door.
”Call me when you’re cool again.”

”Jiiieeeee, I’m sorry.” Henri hit her with his very ineffective (he was learning) puppy dog eyes. Fortunately for him, it worked on one person - Linqian.

”Greyson, wait.” Linqian stepped out, putting an arm in front of him. She wasn’t even pissed pissed this time, so the cool off was even quicker. Normally she’d just let him fuck off anyway, but there was Henri to consider… and shit to discuss about Scott.
”You’re right- but you know I’m fucking touchy about him! Just… Yeah, we were being fucking stupid, concussions are absolutely shit- But, fucking- Thank you. For doing that.”

It pained her to thank him, but it wasn’t as painful as an apology would be. Which was why she wasn’t going to be giving any more of those out. Not verbally at least. Linqian sighed, and looked between Greyson and Henri.
”You guys hungry? I am after that, and we-” she gestured to herself, Greyson and Aryin, ”- still have shit to talk about.”

“I’m famished, I forgot to eat all day again. I was content to just sleep for dinner, you know,” Alex interrupted the tense conversation by accident.

Greyson stopped, hand on the doorknob before turning and taking a deep breath. He looked a little too dressed for lunch with his weapon and armor. But, he cleared his throat before acquiescence.
”What stuff to talk about?”

”Scott Reese being back from the fucking dead, for a start,” Linqian snorted, ushering him towards the kitchen next door. She gestured to Aryin to come in too. She was already mentally thinking about how much food she’d have to make, and exactly what she had in the fridge… what could she make. Well, first, making sure they didn’t end up with five in the not massive kitchen.
”Yi-er, will you keep Alex entertained?”

”Sure thing, Jie- do you play video games?” Henri cheerfully asked Alex, bouncing back just like he always did.

Alex grinned wide. “What games you got?”

”Loads,” Henri grinned back. He gestured to the television with an old console plugged into it - a PS2. ”We don’t have the latest shit, but pretty much anything that console can do, I have it! Have you ever played…” His grin widened. ”Star Wars Battlefront 2?”

“Do not recite the deep magic to me, warlock,” Alex grinned as they ever so slowly shifted their eyes to match Henri’s, “I was there when it was released.”. Alex sat down on the couch and crossed their legs. “Modern games are kinda ass anyway. I have a GameCube and a Wi back at my place so I’m right at home on a PS2.”

”Oh fuck,” Henri said as he turned on the console, handing Alex one of the controllers. The game was already in the console, so it launched right away. ”I always wanted a GameCube but we couldn’t afford it… then I asked Greyson to buy me one but ‘retro consoles are too expensive what did I do to earn that’ so he just got me the latest playstation. It’s fun, right, but it just isn’t the same! Oh, what game mode do you wanna play?”

“Hero assault is kinda a vibe, same with the classic conquest,” Alex paused as they looked at Henri, “if you win I can go grab the GameCube and bring it over. You’re only, like, two paintings away from my house so it’ll take a minute. You won’t win though so why did I offer that?”

”Let’s go hero assault then,” Henri grinned. Since there was only one map, there was no choice there, and they loaded in. Henri immediately chose Mace Windu. ”But you’re on. I spent years with this as one of the only games I owned.”

Alex immediately selected Asajj Ventress as they looked at Henri. “May the odds…May the force be with you.” Alex looked back at the screen and waited for the match to start. Alex wasn’t that great at the game any more, but they used to be a monster in the online world of this game. Asked hoped that their skills would have aged like a fine wine and not milk like every other skill they had.

”May the force be with you too,” Henri grinned. He leaned forward where he’d sat on the floor, back leant against the couch - it made it easier to see the pretty shitty screen with his height. The countdown finished, and he easily started to navigate through the city on his half of the screen. A few bots appeared, and he easily killed them. ”Let’s say the winner is whoever kills the other the most. Bot kills don’t count.”

“Bot deaths don’t count either,” Alex looked towards Henri as the respawn timer counted down.

Henri laughed, bright and cheerful rather than mocking at all. ”Sure, only counts if I kill you- like now.”

He’d managed to find Alex right after they respawned, jumping down from a building with a slamming ground attack before easily finishing them off. ”One-zero.”

“I’ll have to put on my A game from here,” Alex said as they simply leaned forward and adopted a more focused look on their face. After they respawned they found what they thought was Henri’s character and quickly dispatched them with ease.

“One all,” Alex said oblivious to the fact that they had killed a bot .

”That wasn't me,” Henri laughed, pointed to his half of the screen where he was obviously alive. ”This is me.”

He appeared in front of Alex, jumping almost tauntingly, before engaging in lightsaber to lightsaber combat.

Alex felt the skills returning. Their muscles began to regain their memory as Alex fought back, and they knew that they would not be seeing the..

“Respawn screen…” Alex looked over to Henri with fear in their eyes. Alex had just realised that they misjudged their opponent, “what are you?”

Henri just smiled brightly back at Alex, eyes filled with warm light. It was practically radiating from him. ”I’m nothing more than a Jedi Master.”

He dispatched a few more bots, before coming around and killing Alex again.

The match went on for a few more minutes before Alex finally found relief and got a kill. It took all of their skill, patience, and luck. “I got you! I knew I would get you,” Alex shouted with joy before they realised it was a bot once again. The match ended a second later and their eyes narrowed, their nostrils flared, and their head slowly turned to look down at Henri.

“Good game,” Alex whispered with disgust, “shall I go grab the GameCube?”

”Good game!” Henri said cheerfully. ”I’m sure you’ll win next time… and yes please! That’d be amazing, I can’t wait to play it!”

“Good,” Alex inched upward from the couch, maintaining eye contact with Henri, before they slowly walked towards the painting. They touched it before stepping inside. A second later Alex popped their head out. “Do not follow me, this place is not a place of honour for anyone but me.” They pulled their head back in and they were off.

A few minutes later they came back through the portal. GameCube, and controllers, in hand and a single clear case with a disc inside. “Hook this up for me, please,” Alex said with the same intense stare as before.

”Got it!” Henri said cheerfully, taking the GameCube from Alex. He crouched down, unplugging the PS2 and fiddling about a bit to get the GameCube hooked up in its place. He then turned it on. ”What’re we playing?”

Alex slowly raised their right arm up. It took a painful ten seconds for it to reach its peak. “Super Smash.” They played this game every. single. Day.

”Fuck yeah! One of my college friends has a switch so we play that a shit ton… I can’t wait to play it on the GameCube, I bet it's even better,” Henri grinned, completely enthusiastic.

“Prepare to die.”

---

”Any requests?” Linqian asked as she started to rummage about her cupboards.
”Well, no promises. We can talk while I cook… because fuck, Aryin thinks we should tell the coven, and I think that’s a terrible fucking idea.”

Greyson’s face was unsurprised.
”Listen, if the two of you haven’t already considered that everything happening right now as just an extension of the shit we went through years ago, well-”
He shrugged, sitting down at the kitchen table.
”Something with noodles, if you’ve got it… You know me, spaghetti brain.”

”Did you seriously just ask someone Chinese if they have noodles?” Linqian snorted. She went through the fridge and pulled out some chicken, then a shit ton of vegetables to pad it out, and started chopping.

”I just think it changes things, you know? We start dying, Scott Reese is back. I’d want to know if someone else discovered that.”

”Fair point. I’ve gotta say I agree that he should at least be on our radar, even if he’s… You said Ohio? God I hope he doesn’t head North.”

“Yep, Alex opened a portal and sent him there. Nearly killed them to do it apparently.
”That guy’s a fuckin’ menace.” Greyson shook his head.

”The fuckers we were fighting had a ghost ship and a shit ton of portals themselves,” Linqian pointed out. She'd efficiently cut up the chicken and thrown it in a pan, moving about the kitchen to pull out all the ingredients she needed to make a simple, but tasty, sauce. She figured a stir fry noodle dish would be good - fast, easy, nice. As she went about cooking, she was visibly relaxing further and further.
”I bet they'll get Scott's ass back soon then he'll be our fucking problem again. I hate to admit this shit, but Sycamore can't fucking handle him. It was the Trinity that dealt with him before and they're fucking gone.”

“I hate to admit that you’re right. I’m stronger than last time and I couldn’t even scratch him.”

”And I had a fucking chainsaw… The chainsaw got through, but otherwise? Nothing fucking did,” Linqian groaned, looking over at Greyson.
”Guess you were right about the fucking need training shit. Maybe we can get strong enough to deal with that piece of shit…”

”That chainsaw wasn’t at full power. Faith has been looking for the Boomstick artifact that is its pair, apparently they boost each other. The Chainsaw is one of the most powerful artifacts that we had, and it just scratched him.”

”Which is why we need to tell the coven.”

”And watch them argue over it while some fucking idiot probably goes to fight him and gets a bunch of us killed? No fucking way!” Linqian turned away from the vegetables she was chopping to point the knife towards Aryin.
”Look, I know I’m part of the arguing problem. Fuck, I’m probably part of all the problems, but I just don’t fucking trust them. They’ll do something fucking suicidally stupid.”

”There has to be someone we can tell, right? Like not everyone is that dumb.”.

”Listen, there's no world where hiding this is the right move. I honestly wouldn't even care who you tell, because word spreads like a fire in a dry field. If you want my advice, I say everyone deserves to know, if for nothing else but their own personal security.” Greyson finally added, head tilted slightly as he tried to parse out what was going to happen next.

Undead Scott Reese was not on his objective to solve list, with Greyson imagining him as a mechanical impasse… They would just have to get rid of the guy again and again.
”At least we know now… Snake is back? Or maybe it was never fully over… We were kids, after all, maybe someone made a mistake somewhere?”

Linqian’s poor expression was hidden, with her back turned to them as she finished chopping up the vegetables and threw them in the pan too. She clamped down on arguing about the whole not telling anyone thing… She still thought it was a bad idea, but she wasn’t the smart one here. Saying the Snake was back seemed like a bit of a fucking jump too.
”Well none of us fucking remember the ceremony, so we might’ve. Like we don’t have enough fucking problems to deal with… There’s barely any of us fucking left too.”

With everything cooking it gave her an opportunity to actually turn around, leaning against the counter.
”At least 317 seemed like they wanted an alliance. The only fucking positive to come outta today.”

”We’ve done a complete turn around in that department. It used to be no coven this, we’ll kick you out if you are caught, and now, Aryin paused as they crossed their arms. ”We’re not strong enough to resist whatever that was, so it’s good to have friends who can. What did you think of our monsters and stuff Linqian,” Aryin smirked at Linqian.

”I was too busy getting the crap beaten out of me to pay much attention to them,” Linqian said honestly.
”Was pretty impressive for a bunch of artists, I guess. And the fucking chainsaw… Fuck, I should’ve just taken it. Honestly, it was so fucking cool- it was fucking fueled by my lux or some shit, shoving that flaming thing up Scott’s ass was satisfying as fuck.” The explanation of the chainsaw was for Greyson, of course, who hadn’t been there to witness it in all its glory.

”It was indeed! That’s why I grabbed it for you.”.

”That’s why you’re my best bitch,” Linqian grinned. She’d put on the noodles, finishing off the sauce and pouring it in with everything else. Then she thought about something else she needed to talk about… might as well do it now. She spun back around and pointed at Greyson.
”I talked to Sloane this morning about Jinhai’s memorial service- fucking stuck up bitch thinks I just fucking quit my job for nothing… Whatever, what’s fucking important is that I didn’t take her money for the shit I’m booking. Burnt the fucking cheque soon as I left-” she was getting a bit off track here…
”I can’t cover it myself yet. You still good to… pay for some of that shit? Like a loan, you can take it outta my first paycheck.”

Greyson's face was mostly serene until the topic of spending money was brought up.
”Huh? Oh, the… Yeah, for sure, whatever you need. We'll pull payments out of your paychecks if you want to pay back that way, but… Well, I mean, it's not necessary. Jinhai and I had a rough relationship, but the dude deserves to rest well. Right?”

”Right, but he’ll be put to rest whether I gradually pay you back or not. Shouldn’t be that fucking much either… the plot and headstone. I still gotta sort it… what the fuck am I gonna do with all that money anyway?” Linqian waved hand, turning back around to the stove and switching everything off. The noodles were thrown into the pan, and everything mixed together.
”It’s going to be an open, informal service… Sloane suggested that. Fucking surprising. Means the whole fucking coven could turn up if they wanted.” She spoke pretty calmly about it all. Detached, almost.

She stopped her actions, stepping back from what looked like a simple Chow Mein.
”That’s food, help yourselves… that’s the only table we got, so we’ll have to pull it out a bit.”

”I don't see why you have to do what Sloane Farris recommends. From what I hear, Blackmore rearranged her brain's synaptic network the other day. She's probably still not normal.” Greyson chuckled to himself as he stood to move the table a bit.

It didn't take him long to dive in.
”Mmmm… Fuck it's so good. Real Chinese food? Ohhhh Baby… Linqian, you're gonna love the Kitchen at the new place. It'll be great, Hell I’m tempted to use it myself now and then.”

”Yeah, not normal in that she made some actually good points I agreed with. It was fucking weird.” Linqian shrugged, grinning at the immediate appreciation she got from him. It was still pretty fucking nice, compared to her brothers who were just too fucking used to getting meals made for them. While Greyson could be a dick a lot of the time, he also had a way with words that sometimes made her feel real fucking good about herself.
”The fuck would you even be cooking, fried eggs? But fuck, is it big? This place is… well I fucking grew up here, but it’s too fucking cramped. A better kitchen, time to actually fucking cook… it’s like a fucking dream, if you ignore the shit that’s making us all move in together.”

She then tilted her head back. ”Yi-er, will you grab the other two chairs from the cupboard?”
”But Jie, I’m in the middle of a match!”
”I don’t give a fuck! Go get them if you want to fucking eat.”

There was some grumbling, and seconds later Henri appeared with two fold out chairs he put at the small table, making three into five with enough room for all of them… even if it was a bit tight.

Alex followed in a second later. “Saved by the bell, saved by the bell,” Alex confidently walked in behind them.

”Oh? Final score?”

“We’re three rounds into a best of five,” Alex dusted their shoulders, “I’m up two games but game three is close.”

”Good. Sit down nerd, this food is amazing,” Aryin said as they looked over Alex and their blood stained face. ”Trust me when I say you’ll want to clean that off before you eat. Why don’t you go get cleaned up real quick, I’ll save your spot.”

“That makes sense,” Alex said as they threw up a peace sign and walked towards the bathroom.

”They’ll grow on you,” Aryin said to Linqian with a smile as she ate some more of the food, her eyes closing for just a moment as the flavour hit her mouth.

”Sure, if they stop stepping into my fucking livingroom uninvited,” Linqian retorted. She served up a plate for Alex in one of the empty spaces, making an assumption and giving them a fork… before grabbing some for herself and putting a lid over the pan. She'd made a shit ton, so there was enough for seconds, or her lunch tomorrow.

”I’ll have a chat.

”Thanks Jie!” Henri said cheerfully. He'd crammed himself in by the wall in one of the worse seats, forcing Linqian to squeeze past Greyson to get into the seat right in the corner, sitting between them. ”This is great! Normally you never let me have a second dinner, maybe you should get into fights more often- I'm joking don't hit me!”

”Watch it. You've been spending too much time with Louis recently, getting fucking cocky,” Linqian pointing a chopstick at Henri aggressively, though her posture was very relaxed.

”Don’t blame poor Louis, he doesn't talk back to his parents like this, Uncle Andre would chuck him out if he did!” Henri grinned. Then, he had a sudden, amazing idea. One that would make the rest of his evening amazing, at least. ”Oh, oh- Greyson, since it's late and you're here already you should stay the night! It's only fair since you always let me go round to yours… I gotta second bed in my room you could use!”

Linqian didn't say anything, or even react much, beyond a slight lean towards Greyson to stare at her brother better. She assumed she didn't have to, because he'd turn down the offer himself… he did have Britney to get back to.

Greyson actively narrowed his eyes as he took a large, slurping bite of food. His gaze became something like transfixion to Henri, eyes peering directly into his with a glimmer of malice in his eye.
”Henri… You remember Miss Britney, right? Tall, well built, hung out with us at Halloween?” he asked, pausing before leaning in just a little bit.
”Did you find her attractive?” he asked very open-endedly.

”Yeah, I do!” Henri said cheerfully, before thinking about the question. Did he find her attractive? Well duh, he was human. But was there more to the question… well no point thinking too hard about it!
”Yeah, she's pretty! Almost as pretty as Jie!”

Linqian almost choked on the noodles she was swallowing down, leaning forward and coughing so much there were tears in her eyes.

“Lady problems?” Alex paused as they walked back into the room, face cleared of blood. They walked next to Linqian and patted them on the shoulder. “That’s rough buddy.”

”ALEX.”

Still staring, Greyson's lips curled up a little at the corners.
”Just ask yourself, Little Brother: Why would big bro Greyson sleep on your spare bed in your house when I have a beautiful lady to go home and lay in bed with? Hmmm?”

”OHHHHHHH!” Henri exclaimed, like it had just dawned on him. Like suddenly, everything in life made sense. His eyes went wide, practically shining as he looked at Greyson.
”I see! So you're one of the guys who always goes back home to their wife at the end of the night rather than staying out with the guys because you don't want to go home to get nagged about never doing enough! Wow! I should've known you'd be like that! But isn't it a bit uncomfortable always sharing a small bed with someone?”

Linqian choked again on a noodle she'd already choked on, hand slamming into the table multiple times as she forcefully swallowed it and the laughter that was building up.

“Ohhhh, you’re just like Jasper I see. I know how to fix this,” Alex cleared their throat, “he wants to go home to fu-“

”ALEX,” Aryin shot out of the chair, placed a hand over their mouth, ”shhh, shhhh..” Yet Aryin couldn’t help a laugh from escaping her throat.

Greyson could only keep his stern face on for so long before he cracked. His face turned downward first, to not be shamed once again by Henri's deep innocence. But then he turned to look at Linqian.
”This is-” Greyson cracked up, the comment barely audible through his laughter.

Turning his head back to the subject, he shook it vigorously.
”You're so sweet, Henri Han… No, no. See, Britney's got a real big bed. Big lady, after all… And when I'm there, I crawl into the bed with her, and I-”

”Don’t you fucking dare, Greyson,” Linqian interrupted, twisting her head round to glare at him… though the effect was dampening by the laughs she couldn't quite hold back and the tears at the corner of her eyes from almost choking multiple times.

”Oh, I get it!” Henri hit his fist into his open palm, once again achieving enlightenment.
”You then get close together because the bed’s too big to feel comfortable in! Because there's no way you'd be doing that other thing you could be doing in bed every night.” It was very difficult to tell if he was really that oblivious or if he was doing some weird kind of skit.

Aryin looked to Alex, whose mouth was still covered, and their stare lingered for a moment before both their eyes went towards Linqian. Neither felt the desire to be the one to break the news. Well, Alex did but they weren’t going to break free don’t Aryin’s grip any time soon.

Greyson was laughing aloud like a hyena, fist bumping against the table and causing his chopsticks to rattle about on the plate.
”Henri… My boy… What do you and Louis do in my apartment all day? You don't talk to one another about chasing ‘tang or huntin’ for cheeks? He never mentions his girlfriends? Or you don't ever look-”
He could feel Linqian's eyes burning a hole through his skull.

”Y'know, we'll come back to this later. When we're alone, and people aren't so judgemental of natural processes.” he playfully snapped, going back to his food.

”I think you’ll find this is a judgement free zone,” Aryin smirked at Linqian, ”I mean I was in my Jane Doe cosplay most of the day to reward the good soldier here for help with my move.”

Aryin looked back at Alex and removed their hand. “Why did he get to say it,” Alex whispered as they grabbed a plate of food and sat down. They took a bite, put their fork down, and raised their hand to their forehead as they simply slowed down their eating. After a few more seconds they smirked. The food was good. “Thank you for feeding me,” Alex paused as their smile faltered, “and for letting me hang. I needed this.”

”You’re always welcome! Especially with your GameCube.” Henri said cheerfully. He grinned at Greyson, shooting him a thumbs up. It wasn't that he didn't know about that shit, just he didn't understand why. Nobody had ever explained the why to him.
”Anyone else for seconds?” he then asked, popping up and going over to the stove.

”It’s no problem,” Linqian said, with a hand wave and half smile. It briefly interrupted her staring at Greyson - but also interrupted her natural response to him. Not that she'd had an immediate one, a bit too shocked at being called judgemental. Her of all people. Sure, she could let things move on, but taking the opportunity of Henri having moved a bit further away…

”So you think I'm fucking judgemental cause I don't want to talk about that shit with my little brother?” Linqian asked, tone still pretty light. She leaned in towards Greyson until she was uncomfortably close, voice lowering. Her eyes narrowed, but her lips pulled up into a smirk.
”You really think there's much to fucking judge? You’re far too vanilla for me to even consider judging anything you'd say. Because sometimes it can get pretty fucking unnatural.” She cast a side eye at Aryin, thinking about how the shit they'd gotten up to with Leon… now that was the kind of shit that could be judged. Her gaze went back to Greyson, eyebrows raising.

Greyson visibly bristled at the comment.
”Vanilla!? Because I won’t-”
Biting his tongue, his eyes spun from her to Henri and then back to Linqian.
”Sorry, God forbid I use the wrong word. Fucking, non-judgemental my ass, listen to you. You judge as you breathe.”
He threw up his hands, wiping his face with a napkin and tossing it on his empty plate before shoving off.

He pointed a finger at Aryin.
”Just… Let your pals know that when we move to the South End, my house isn’t a starving artist’s halfway house. I don’t need a million people coming through at all hours like it’s a fucking club.”
And then he made for the door again, half expecting someone to try and stop him again, but far less concerned than the last time.

”No need to get so pissy about it, you'd think I was saying you were bad… Well you’re always welcome to come prove me wrong,” Linqian called after him, posture languid with no move made to go after him. She hadn't expected him to have such an extreme reaction… Wasn't she just pushing back where he already playfully prodded? Even if there was some truth in it.
”Anytime.”

Henri stood at the stove, massive spoonful of chow mein stuffed into his mouth, wide eyed and confused. He tried to say don't go, but it was completely muffled by the food.

“I’m not starving though,” Alex whispered as they finished their food. “I’m actually full.”

”We do have to work on your visitation manners all the same.”

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

---

Home > The Gym

---

Even though she’d claimed she wasn’t tired the night before, Trisha’s body completely disagreed. It wasn’t until the morning was practically over that she properly woke up.

She could mostly remember hours earlier when Casey woke up. The sleepy kisses and clinging on her part, far too weak to keep him there and too tired to wake up and go with him. There were enough morning cuddles to satisfy barely awake Trisha, anyway, and once Casey left she’d replaced him with his pillow. It smelled enough like him that she fell back into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

Waking up alone had some benefits, even though she much preferred waking up with him there. It gave her a moment to think about the things she needed to do. Areas she’d been slacking in the last few days because of all the chaos.

The bees, and exercise…

Her bees were the first priority. She hadn’t had time to visit the hive since before the ceremony, and she could feel their agitation already. It was an easy, routine, fix - going into the Greenhouse for a little while, bathing the hive in her pheromones while various groups of bees cycled around to crawl their fuzzy bodies all over her. It was a bit tiring just having to stand there and let them do their thing until they were content. It was easier when they were in her bedroom.

But she got it done, and the bees were happy again, a small group coming with her as she made her way downstairs. She assumed Casey would be in the office so she’d just pop in on her way out, let him know where she was going… except he wasn’t. But Norm was, and he directed her to where Casey actually was - the ground floor gym.

Which was fine. She had to go downstairs anyway.

A quick trip down the elevator, with just a couple of the bees getting freaked out by the shaking of the lift as it went to the normal floors. She was pretty used to it now… at least, it didn’t bother her when she was in a good mood like she was this morning. She didn’t even mind going out of her way a bit to actually find the ground floor gym!

“Caas-eeyy?” she called out as she stepped inside. She looked, deceptively, like she was dressed to be there. All in white, wearing a tennis skirt and a sports tank top which stopped at her waist, leaving a small gap of skin on show. Her high ponytail swished from side to side as her head moved to look for him. She did have a small backpack on, which was maybe a bit more out of place…

Loud, frankly nonsensical music was blaring through the speakers as a mixture of drum beats and… Sirens? So many different noises painted in layers across their auditory canvas in different signatures, like stereotypical “alien” music. Out of this world.

”Sloppy!”
Against the chaotic background, the sound of padded slams echoed around the brick walls of the well equipped gym. It seemed like every Temple facility had one of these: Even this one was associated with the famous Gravity brand, a boxing glove holding onto a black hole strung from a band like a medal. Leon and Casey were both shirtless, lacking any sort of padding save for some trimmed down gloves. They were actually boxing, it seemed…

Casey’s head spun to look at the entrance toward Trisha, and Leon nearly caved his brother’s head in with a long swing from the opposite angle. Thankfully, the enchanted gloves broke the air around Leon’s fist, causing a less damaging shock of air to smash into Casey’s head. It still hurt, but far less than it could have.

It still put him on the floor…
”Oh, fuck! Dude, dude, dude!?” Leon stammered, quickly kneeling to help as Casey returned to the world of the living.
Casey had a dumb grin when he finally looked up and saw Trisha again.

”That’s funny… I saw an Angel, then the lights went out.” he giggled up at her.

“What the fuck?!” Trisha ran over as soon as Casey got punched in the head, trying not to start trembling at the sight of him on the ground again. He wasn’t dead, he was smiling and awake- but fuck, seriously?
“That’s not funny at all! You got knocked out- why did you look over?” she crouched down beside him too, peering over him with a worried expression, biting her lip. A hand came out to wave in front of his face… making sure he didn’t have a concussion. Though she wasn’t sure if that was any way to check.

Her head then snapped up at Leon.
“Why were you going for his face in the first place?!”

”It was a faint!"
Casey and Leon’s voices blended together as they both finished the sentence. Casey’s arm waved Trisha off.
”Baby, it’s fine… It’s… It never would’ve hit me if I was paying attention, that was just… It was dumb, it was by chance, Leon wasn’t gonna try and hurt me.”

”Nah, no way! I wasn’t, Trisha, I swear…” they both sounded like boys being admonished by their mother.

Trisha’s lips pulled into a thin line as she looked at Casey, then Leon, then back to Casey. She let out a soft sigh, while trying not to laugh at the way they were both defending themselves. It reminded her of when her brothers used to get in fights, and she’d watch them getting told off by their nanny. It wasn’t a particularly bad memory.
“Alright, alright, I get it, it wasn't on purpose,” Trisha held a hand up before they started defending themselves more, leaning back on her heels. She reached out for Casey’s hand, taking one in both of her own, still worried.

“I didn’t think he was really trying to hurt you, just seeing you falling like that after yesterday? I’m not mad or anything, just worried. I didn’t come in here expecting to see my boyfriend punched in the face by his brother… I didn’t even know Leon was going to be here…” She mumbled out the last bit, before squeezing Casey’s hand.
“Are you… actually alright?”

”Yes… Yes, I swear, I'm absolutely fine. The gloves suck up most of the force, anyway: Hi Baby!” Casey belted with a greater amount of enthusiasm. His arms slipped under Trisha's, pulling her close and planting a kiss on her forehead.
”I'm glad you're up! And you look like you're ready for the gym too! I was getting a little cagey after missing it for like a week… You want me to start on the tread with you?” he asked with great enthusiasm.

“Heyyyy,” Trisha giggled back, her smile soft and gaze full of affection. Her arms loosely draped over his shoulders… but she quickly went from pure joy to a little bit of guilt. Just a bit. He was so enthusiastic, cute even, and she didn’t want to let him down. She really didn’t, but she also didn’t particularly like gyms. She’d suffer through it for him, but especially not when Leon was there… And not right now.

“Uh, about that, Babe… As much as I’d love to do that with you, I was actually planning to go on a run outside. I was just coming to let you know… I’m feeling cagey too since I haven’t done it in a couple of weeks. It’s my gym equivalent- I’m happy to join you in the gym normally, I just need the weekly run.” She ended up rambling in her need to explain herself without him feeling hurt, arms pulling back so her hands were holding onto his shoulders, fingers digging in.

”I mean, I should go anyway… I hear you're tentative on our meeting for the Adjoined Society?-” Leon asked Trisha gently.
”I'm sure there'll be food you like.” he intoned, a vaguely conspiratorial wink following.

”Oh, that's perfect! I'll just leave with you then, Babe, we'll go together.” Casey's childlike grin beamed expectantly at Trisha.

“I’ll try to come tonight... but I don’t eat much in groups, no need to worry about that,” Trisha looked over at Leon, partly to shield herself from Casey’s smile. It was too much… but it wasn’t like she could just ignore him. She turned her head back towards Casey, but wasn’t quite able to meet his eyes. She did want to spend every waking moment with him, but this was also the one thing she wanted to do alone. Just a little bit of time.
“You know I really love you-your company, Case, but I meant alone. It’s healthy… It'll only be an hour or so. We probably run at different paces, anyway.”

Casey’s brow furrowed. She wanted to be crammed up his ass the entirety of last week? The end of the week previous? So…
”Woah, there’s no way!-” he said reactively, voice wavering slightly. ”-I thought we talked about, y’know, making sure you’re safe! I mean, we don’t have to talk or be cute together or anything; Hell, I’ll even give you the Governor treatment! Twenty paces back, just close enough that I can secure you if something happens… Babe…” he pleaded with an almost childlike reaction, frowning wildly.

”Caseau… She’s fine in this part of town. Furio said response times are thirty seconds to a minute-”
”With fucking Clarissa, Leon. Remember? The Security Team lynchpin?” Casey replied with a slight aggression in his voice. It clearly stressed him out to think about Trisha going out alone.

He wasn’t going to tell her that he felt like she was bored of him, or leaving him… His vague understanding of her own personal feelings made that option more than a bait for conflict.
”You should ask her for help then! Until you find someone else willing to do the job!”
Casey simply stared at Leon with a vaguely disappointed look on his face, then turned back to Trisha.
”You… Really want to be alone?”

Trisha bit her lip, and looked down, before nodding. It was a conflicting feeling for her, the constant need to be with him versus a dislike for being restricted. Flightiness she couldn’t control… but would be manageable if she went out like this. It was because they’d talked about it last night. It brought out the feeling of being trapped, and she didn’t like it. She just needed to clear it away.

“I know you’re worried, but there’s people everywhere at this time- and I won’t be going far.” She moved forward to hug him, as if she was worried he was upset enough that he’d go away.
“Just one hour, once a week. I’ve been safe for months, an hour will be fine… But if I’m out longer than an hour you can call me, I’ll tell you where I am and you can pick me up. It’s to keep my head clear as much as it’s for exercise… that’s why I need to be alone.”

”Would a suggested route be a decent resolution here, Casey?”
Casey’s face was sullen, frustrated and stuck as his brain rolled from thought to thought.
”W-would that be something you’d agree to? The path with the most Temple businesses on it? You don’t need to know which are which, just which roads to follow…” he almost begged.

“Yeah, of course, if that’ll make you worry less,” Trisha nodded frantically. She didn’t want to worry him, so she’d agree to anything - outside of anyone being there - that would make him worry a little less.
“I normally go down by the harbour and through Memorial Park… well, I’d still like to go through the park’s main paths if possible- But yes, just give me a route and I’ll follow it.”

Unprompted, Leon pulled out his phone and adeptly air-dropped a map with a route on it to Trisha’s phone.
”This is my gym tour. Ignore that it says it took me twelve hours to get through it; I stopped at every gym along the route and did an hour. If you’re just going over it at a leisurely pace, it’s probably an hour and a half? You can cut it shorter by taking whichever connecting street back to this part of the hub.”
The large man smiled and nodded at Trisha, truthfully trying his hardest to be as friendly as possible.
”If it helps for tonight, Gin and Eddy will both be there. Hopefully it counteracts the fact that Layla Hyacinthus and her new Adjoined will be in attendance as well… You’ll probably be interested in knowing that, out of all the people to die and come back as a ghost, Alizee Altiere managed to reconstitute herself…”

Casey tilted his head back and sighed.
”Fucking headache those two…” he commented with an annoyed tone, once more kissing Trisha on the head.
”You’re gonna be alright then? I mean, you will be safe. You’re a grown woman, there’s no way you attract people’s fists to your face, right?” he tried joking, thumb moving to brush against her cheek.

”Adora’s got some pretty serious PTSD. It could’ve been anything that set her off that night, probably wasn’t even Trisha.” Leon offered.

It was definitely her that had set Adora off. What Trisha had said wasn’t that bad but… she’d known she’d get a reaction out of Adora. It wasn’t something she’d admit.
“Alizee Altiere… I didn’t even know she died…” Trisha said quietly, furrowing her brow. She was pretty out of the loop with these things, through her choice not to join the coven and general lack of care. Alizee was like many of the coven were to her - someone she’d tried to be friendly with, but just couldn’t tolerate in the end. Layla… she didn’t even remember. Neither were people she wanted to see, but she’d tolerate them this time.

”I’m only going because Ed asked in the first place, so, yeah,” Trisha shrugged one shoulder, and turned her attention back to placating her overly worried boyfriend.
”I’ll be alright. That happened once! You got a unique experience, Babe, once in a lifetime,” she managed to joke back, smiling softly at him. She leaned in and up to lightly kiss him, not particularly caring that Leon was right there. It was just a brief kiss, anyway.
”Just an hour or two, and I’ll be all yours for the rest of the week.”

Casey nodded his head gently, accepting Trisha’s explanation and taking a deep breath.
”I’ve got my eyes on you the whole time, okay? I mean, not really, I know privacy and trust is the point, but… Y’know… My heart? I guess I have my heart on you?” He tried to sound omniscient and powerful, but realized midway through that it probably wasn’t the way to comfort her.

”I’ll see her out?” Leon offered.
”Fine, if she wants. I’m gonna head upstairs and get showered. I’ll see you soon, Babe.” Casey said, planting another kiss on her forehead.
”Oh, also, I’m headed up to the base for my official discharging this weekend. We’ll talk about if you want to come or not when you get back.” he smiled at her.

“Alright,” Trisha said simply, nodding and smiling warmly at him. She already knew what she’d prefer, unless there would be anything extreme involved… but they’d talk about it after. And she decided not to think too hard about the eye… heart… thing.
“I’ll be back before you know it.”

She then looked up at Leon.
“You can walk me out, sure… Might as well get more used to your company now.” Her tone was light, and she meant it as a joke, even if there was some truth to it.

”Getting used to one another is a good thing, yeah. I’m starting to kinda like you anyway. You really pissed the Cat off, and I couldn’t help but laugh when I heard it. I’m… He already yelled at me. Pretty loudly, and if it’s rank he’s pulling, there’s not a damn thing I can do. My little brother got to scream in my face for an hour and a half this morning, and I had to take it. And, I deserved it. I’m sorry they were around to hurt you guys at all. I’ll make that right.”
Leon didn’t mince words today. He was hoping to see and apologize to her expressly, which is why he stuck around for so long when he was supposed to be meeting a different Coven member.

Holding the gym door open for her, they were able to walk back into the main lobby of the apartment building.
”You’re really not much of an eater, huh? We’ve shared a few meals now; I’ve noticed how you barely touch it, even when you know its clean. Is it a trust thing? Or, just… Not much for food?” he asked casually.

“Low appetite. I trust Casey enough to eat anything he gives me,” Trisha replied shortly, in a way that made it clear it wasn’t something she wanted to talk about more. It was technically the truth. Group meals were the worst, but it was all rooted in her upbringing. Not something she wanted to talk about, or even think about. One of the many touchy subjects in her life. Her parents had never cared if she ate or not… she just got used to not doing it.

“Since Casey already yelled at you about the Cat, I won’t bother going on about it… so long as it doesn’t happen again. Because that thing almost killed him.” Funny that the topic of her boyfriend almost dying was a more comfortable one for her than food. But she tilted her head up towards the much taller man so that he could see she was being genuine.
“I appreciate and accept the apology… I’m glad it’s pissed off. Next time I won’t miss.”

Leon nodded, a smile crossing his face as he avoided the brunt of Trisha's ire. The exit had a smaller coat lobby where the mailboxes were. The signage already had a mailbox for “T. Vanburen & C. Richoux”, and there was a phone inside a little glass box with a sign that read “Caseau Richoux: Superintendent”. It had been a nice little moment Casey shared with her, one where they came to replace the old signage.

It was a satisfying status symbol, putting the little piece of paper with their names on it into their mailbox slot. Leon opened the door to the outside as he noticed it.
”Awww, that's pretty cute. You guys share a mailbox… Thank god porn doesn’t come in the mail anymore, huh?”

He laughed, waving Trisha out the door and walking down the steps with her.
”So, Ed will give you a call. I'll be here around five-thirty to pick you guys up. See you then?” he casually asked, reaching into his pocket to pull out some earbuds that slowly climbed up toward their destination.

Trisha rolled her eyes at the porn comment, but didn't snap at it, because she was too satisfied with him calling it cute and looking at their names on the mailbox anyway. It was just so nice…
“Yeah, I'll see you then." She nodded, hand raising in a slight wave. The bees that had been moving around her shoulders gently buzzed to more hidden locations - her hair, under her skirt. Her own earbuds went in, and she checked the route Leon had sent her at the same time as playing some relaxing orchestral music to run to. Then she set off in a light jog out of the apartment parking lot.

It should be a relaxing run, with absolutely no problems, and she'd come back feeling refreshed and ready for the week ahead.

---

The Birds and the Bees: A Companion Post

---

Memorial Park > Home

Trisha let Casey chastise her the whole walk through the forest and out of Memorial Park to the main road, not saying a word, just nodding occasionally where it seemed she should. Her gaze was firmly downcast, just up enough to stop her from tripping over as she walked, and her lips pressed into a thin line. Even though all of her wounds were closed up she was still covered in blood, staining her white clothes, and mixing with snot and tears across her face from where her nose had been continually bleeding. She looked a mess, and she felt like one too. A mixture between a need to flee further, to avoid any stern words or possible shouting from Casey, but also to stay and appease him and not have him leave.

She was really scared of that.

With the inner conflict she ended up in a halfway there state where she wasn't fully paying attention to what he said. She was counting the losses of her bees - four thousand and seventy, four thousand and ninety, no, four thousand a ninety seven - and thinking about what she could say. Because she knew it was mostly her fault that he was worried. She wasn't at fault for the fight… but him being so angry and concerned meant that he cared. Enough to stay, right?

She was still trembling, whole body in a tense with her hands grasping her skirt and digging into her thighs. But eventually there was a gap for her to talk. She didn't want to but… she didn't want to be apart from Casey either, or ignoring him.
“It was a faster route back, I was going to get home early," she blurted out, eyes firmly stuck to her lap. She'd managed to send back most of the bees, with about two hundred still left clinging to her, mostly around her upper body.
“Running along the road didn't work. It would've been fine and I would've been back before an hour was up, then I wouldn't have gone out again. But then I saw Lila and I thought I'd be polite, just five minutes, I'd still get home early, but then she said stuff, and my bees got eaten, I couldn't just leave. It wasn't on purpose." An absolute mess came out of her mouth as she struggled to word it while knowing that really, nothing she said was going to just fix things and calm him down. But she didn't know what else to do.

”And you wanting to get home is fine: We planned for this! I was satisfied with you being on the route, and any detour you may have tried to take that kept you in that grid… But if you remember correctly, we met because you got into a bloody fist fight with another Sycamite!”
Casey wasn’t the type to get angry. Even now, it wasn’t anger so much as frustration; that the literal first time he wanted to not worry about things, something like this happens.
”Leon is trying to change. He wants to be better! Part of that is respecting the both of us, not just as a couple but as individuals! That means doing good things for you, even if he fucking slips up… But we cannot expect that to happen every time you meet someone who doesn’t like you! Like, Edict for example… That guy is scum at the end of the day, and I absolutely wouldn’t trust you alone in a room with him! Imagine if he’d wanted to hurt you the other day when we saw him and I wasn’t there? He could’ve! Easily!...”

“I’m not stupid, I know," Trisha interrupted, trying to clamp down on her own frustration. If it had been almost any Sycamore member she would've kept going. The list of ones she'd consider approaching with good intentions, though previously zero, was still small. Luca, Jasper, Sully, Lila… until now. She hadn't been like that before.
“She wasn't that- we never fought before. She was quiet! I just thought… it should've been fine. I wouldn't approach someone I thought was going to hurt me… I really didn't think that would happen. And- and I hurt her just as much as she hurt me."
She bit her lip, hands trembling. She wasn't supposed to be arguing or getting angry back, but she just couldn't help trying to defend herself, because otherwise she had to admit… She was wrong. At fault. That wasn't the case.
“I’m not that weak, Casey."

”Really? Because honestly, I feel like she could’ve kept going. How many bees have you lost? How many, Trisha? What’s that going to do to your hive, how many girls is that? Totally avoidable! Fuck, Babe, why’s this… Why!? Why do people attack you!? Does it make any more fuckin’ sense to you why I’m so anal about making sure you’re…-”

Casey paused as they made it out into the main street. It was the first time Trisha would’ve been able to see him completely: In this strange black jumpsuit, with body armor and gun magazines… He really looked like a soldier; and it’d be a little hard to explain that to anyone driving by. He was just thankful Norm was quick, and their car was pulling up quickly.
”-I just wanna keep you safe, Trisha… I fuckin’ love you! Why are you like a fucking lemming?!”
His arms wrapped around her, hugging her and rubbing her shoulders. He kissed her forehead, but the ceramic plating in his vest made his chest feel hard, harsh and unwelcoming.

Trisha didn't want to tell him how many she'd lost. She knew better than anyone. She'd felt every single death, and even after eating the Key Lime pie she could still sense it. A loss, pheromones she'd never smell again, a strange fuzziness and disconnect in her brain. She hadn't lost that many since the Stygian Snake. Back then she'd gone down to something close to the number she started with, and the years after were spent growing her hive again. She'd almost forgotten how much it hurt. There was no need for anyone else to tell her how bad it was… she knew. So she avoided answering the question.
“I don't know why people attack me," she said quietly. She knew. It was because she was petty, and because people always took what she said the wrong way. Over and over again. But it wasn't her fault.

She turned her head to the side so she wasn't facing the cold ceramic, not feeling particularly comforted by his hug. She didn't hug him back either, though her body tilted forward in a want to lean into him, then back again when it didn't find the normal, unarmoured warmth. Was he still angry with her? His words were angry, but he was hugging her… she didn't understand.
“But I'm not… I'm not like that. I was trying to do something different. I wanted to be- be-" better. But that meant admitting she was flawed in the first place.
“I know you want to keep me safe. I really didn't mean to worry you… I know. I understand. It won't happen again, I- I won't go out again."

Casey scoffed at the last little comment.
”This is not the end of the world, Trisha… You’ll go out again. You’ll go out again, you’ll probably fuckin’... You’ll probably scare us again. We’ll react accordingly, and we’ll do this dance again.”
Both of his hands grabbed her face gently on either side, lifting her up to look him in the eye.
”Just… Think about it for one more second next time. Even a tiny improvement is an improvement, Trisha… Please, Baby. We’ll do it together.”

The car was there now, and Casey quickly opened the door to let Trisha get in.

Trisha nodded slowly, before getting in. She waited for Casey to also get in before talking.
“I will, I'll try. I'll think about it more… but I wasn't lying this morning, it really doesn't happen normally. It's the… coven… but I'll improve, I'll really try to, as long as you're there. Even if you get angry or upset again, if I- I- don't improve much, don't- I'll try." There was that fear bubbling up to the surface again, so irrational, but also unstoppable. He said he loved her, he said he wanted to keep her safe, he cared for her… but she just couldn't believe it, not that easily. Not enough to push down her worry at yet another point that people would normally leave her. She was still reeling from the loss of the bees, not processing it as well as she could have, still working through attempted damage control even with Casey hardly seeming angry at all anymore.

“I’ll make it up to you today… for scaring you. Whatever you want today, tomorrow."
Casey was pulling his body armor off his chest, the rifle between his legs getting in the way as he tried to slide it one way or another.
”Babe, please… Make up to me? I’m not like that; you want to make this up to me, then you remember what we talked about next time something like this happens. Otherwise, don’t even think about it… Besides, you’ve got bigger problems to worry about, don’t you?”

Finally slipping the chest piece off, he reached out and grabbed Trisha. Sliding her across the bench seat, his arms wrapped around her again… The warm love was back. Nothing was between her and his inviting chest except a thin layer of cloth. For a long while, most of the way home, Casey just held onto Trisha…

”I’m sorry… For being mean. You lost a lot of bees… I should consider your circumstance more.”

Trisha shook her head. He'd feel every movement with it pressed against him, curled up as close as she could get. As he held her the trembling in her limbs had subsided, her breathing had evened out, and the panic subsided. She hadn't expected him to hug her like this… not so soon, at least. She was used to drawn out fights, anger that led to coldness or everything just ending. It always lasted just like hers did. Maybe she wouldn't hold onto things so much if she'd had warmth like this in her life earlier…
“You were worried, I understand. If you consider that mean you're going to struggle when you meet half my family." What was meant to be a joke with some truth behind it was awkwardly delivered… but for once she did understand and she was able to admit it. She'd been scared and frustrated, but Casey's harshness had come from concern. Even if it was difficult for her to believe entirely in that care, she could understand.

“It really hurt," she continued quietly, curling in towards him even more. She turned her face to press it against his chest as she continued, words half muffled.
“Four- four thousand nine hundred and seven. I felt every single one. It hurts the more I lose, but it's the same mentally. I can't sense them anymore. I called them all to protect the ones I had… because I was angry… but more got killed. I haven't lost that many since-" she shook her head again.
“Maybe it would've been better if I didn't call them."

Casey sat there with her as the car slowly pulled into the apartment’s parking lot and into a spot. Theo was waiting outside, a massive rifle slung under his arm that betrayed strength hidden in his small, lithe frame. Soft features crinkled a smile seeing Casey and Trisha making it home in one piece, and immediately hardened upon Norm stepping out.
”Great work, Dickwaffle… I nearly hit you! And I could’ve hit The Boss, what would that’ve been like, huh!?”
”But you didn’t! So, why don’t you go back to bragging about being the best shot in the Temple and we forget about it! It’s bad enough we’ll have to file the incident report and-”

The two slipped back inside, leaving Trisha and Casey to their private moment in the back of the car. Casey could only stifle a giggle in return. He didn’t want Trisha to think he was laughing at her, but the situation was grim enough that his instinctive reflexes were still on.
”Since the Snake… I… I know. That is a lot, and I bet it’s gonna make you a lot more cautious in the future, won’t it? I won’t sit here and blame you: You know how that interaction went down, and what happened now has happened. Just sit, let me hold you… And I promise everything is gonna be alright. Do you want to do something for them? A service or something?” he asked in a very sincere manner, long having pulled tight to her ear so a whisper would be enough.

Trisha let out a muffled sigh of relief, the last bit of tension in her body going with it. She'd still been worried that the car journey had just been a break, and that he'd be angry with her again when they got back. Really, she could deal with the anger, but the blame? She couldn't.
“I don't want them to get hurt again," she said softly, tilting her head towards his. She wanted to properly look at him now - not like her avoidance of eye contact earlier. To make sure and… well, she just really liked looking at him too.

Especially when he suggested something like a service for the bees. She'd never even considered something like that. She silently mourned each one and then moved on. Against the Snake there wasn't even time to mourn the people they'd lost.
“I think I'd like that. Just something small, just you and me and the rest of the bees… they won't understand, but it would be nice. I was never able to do something like that before. I don't know what exactly but something. A little bee service." She half giggled at that, though it was still more hollow than normal, and she pressed closer to Casey as if trying to become one with them - when there were very little gaps between them already.

Casey just rubbed her back for a while, taking a deep breath. Eventually, his hand reached out to his armored vest, pulling the radio from it and flicking the switch. He spoke calmly.
”Theoooo… Could you bring an incense burner upstairs to the bench outside Port One? And some sticks, like a few boxes of popsicle sticks.”

Trisha would only vaguely hear the response from Casey’s earpiece, a gentle confirmation echoing through the electronics. With that, Casey released the handset and moved back to fully holding Trisha.
”You’re okay, Babe… I’m sorry this happened, you know? It really sucks, I know what it's like to lose things that are attached to you… If our unit’s surgeons weren’t so good with their magic, you’d be dating a potato with a head.”
Again, a crude joke, one he knew he shouldn’t try to tell, but after so long that was the only reflex he had for comfort of loss. He was avoidant of the drink, or of other methods of repression: It was the belief that one needed suffering in their lives.

And in that moment, he realized that just as much as he was physically and mentally attracted to Trisha, he was equally attracted to the pain. The feeling of struggle that she exuded, something that was a coiled serpent inside. It was the same thrill he got jumping a line, or making a break from house to house.
Her ups, her downs- She thrilled him. She was unpredictable.

”And… You may think it’s weird? But I’m happy I got to get dressed up and shoot at something that was living… You gave me a reason to… Be.”

“That’s… pretty weird," Trisha pulled her head back a bit so that he could see she was smiling, rather than actually judging in any way. Of course it was weird but… It didn't bother her. She understood a little bit. She did a lot of things other people didn't like, and it wasn't like he'd killed Lila. Or had been aiming to…
“But I'm not going to argue if it made you happy. Which coven member should I approach next, then?" she joked, awkwardly laughing as soon as she said it. Probably too soon… she didn't want to get into situations like this again. She couldn't lose any more bees.

“I’m glad you're not a potato," Trisha leaned her head forward to rest against his, smiling softly.
“I don't think we'd be as good of a match. You wouldn't be able to get dressed and shoot things if I got in trouble… and we wouldn't be cuddling like this." She spoke softly, getting more relaxed. She was comfortable again, not worried… as long as she was with Casey she felt like everything could be alright. She hoped it could be. He wasn't even angry for long when she'd not done what he'd asked and put herself in danger…
“I really, really like you."

It was a tender moment all things considered. One he didn’t want to ever forget. He needed to remember how much the whole experience meant to him. The best of times, and the worst of times. Both deserved his respect, and his attention.
She didn’t judge him, she didn’t speak out… She asked who he wanted to fight next. That was something only a real trooper did. A real commander. There was respect there that Trisha probably never would’ve or could’ve understood. So he kept that part to himself.

”I really like you too, Trisha Bee… And we’ll avoid these situations. One day, you’ll have a lot more bees. And the little memorial we’re gonna make will be a beautiful reminder of lessons we’ve learned together. Ain’t that something to look forward to?”
Rubbing her back for another moment, he finally patted her to prompt her up.
”Come on… I’ll carry you back up how you like… Then we’ll get to work.”

“I can walk, you know," Trisha jokingly pouted, getting up and shuffling out of the car. But contrary to her words, she didn't move very far, turning around and holding her arms out towards him. Just waiting for him to scoop her up.
“I don't really know how to make a nice memorial, so you'll have to be patient… but I guess we have time. Unless you have to work? Then we can do it later… where will we put it?" It was a lot of questions asked quite earnestly. There was the Sycamore memorial but… she didn't visit it. Couldn’t. Not since it had been erected.
“Maybe we should get some watermelon for all the other bees too… They dealt with a lot."

”Don’t you worry about it… I already know what we’re gonna do and how we’re gonna do it. You said four thousand nine hundred and seven, right? So, that’s four thousand, nine hundred and seven popsicle sticks. And four thousand, nine hundred and seven new flowers. We’ll plant ‘em in a nice honeycomb pattern, burn some incense while we’re doing it. You can… You can pray, or whatever you want. Just think good thoughts about them, and honor their memory. And yeah, we’ll put some cut fruits down, all kinds. While we’re doing that, I’ll have Theo get all that taken care of: He loves the bees too; I know you haven’t heard much from him I don’t think… But, he’ll help… Sound good?”

As soon as she was up and out of the car, he already had Trisha tucked back up against him, cradled in his arms like she didn’t weigh a thing.

“Where will we get the new flowers? Are we going to plant them?" Trisha loosely wrapped her arms around Casey's neck, resting her head on his shoulder.
“... I'll stop thinking too hard about it, I'll just follow along with you. That sounds really nice. I've already perfected the honeycomb pattern making so, yeah… sounds good."

She tilted her head to press a light kiss against his jaw. The suggestion of praying wasn't something she planned to do, or particularly liked, but it was fine. It wasn't like it was being forced on her like it had been when she was a kid. Good thoughts… that was easy to do. She loved all her bees, even if there was very little to differentiate between them sometimes.
“If you're not busy or working, we can make the memorial, then we can just spend the rest of the day together… cuddling, relaxing. That would be really nice."

Casey cleared his throat.
”J-just… Just about the whole day. I’m gonna get some serious work done, and you’re gonna go with Leon and Eddy to the Gathering Center. You’re going to talk to your fellow Adjoined, and they’re gonna comfort you about what happened just like I am. You can tell them all it was totally Lila’s fault, and that she did everything to you; a totally innocent person. Because you’ve earned it.” he explained as they came to the elevator.
”It’ll be good for you. Adjoined are some of the most chill and accepting people I’ve ever met. You get real tolerant with headmates like that.”

Trisha pouted, immediately caught trying to get out of the meeting she really didn't want to go to anymore. Not after the fight. She just wanted to stay at home.
“We have very different experience of Adjoined. I guess they're nicer when they don't have Apparitions forced on them…" Of course there were some chill Adjoined in the old coven. Luca, Olivia… but people like Emily really ruined any possibility of Trisha viewing Adjoined as tolerant or accepting. Even if she was one herself.

“I don't need them to comfort me anyway… Do I really need to go? I won't even bother you. I'll just stay at home while you work… I don't really want to go out. Or talk about losing so many bees. Anyway, I've had my fill of other Adjoined for the day. For life, with some of the ones from Sycamore… I'll go next week." She didn't really have any intention of going the next week, or the week after.

”You know that’s pointless as well as I do-”
The elevator lurched to let them know they were on the unmarked tenth floor, its magical locking mechanism loosening up as familiar Lux passed through its barriers.
”-because next week you’re gonna say the same thing. Fight or no, you’re never going to want to go to this thing. The only way we can possibly change your mind about it is by making you go. There’s no time to waste.”

Casey nuzzled his face into her stomach, taking a deep breath of her before coyly looking up.
”I won’t be home anyway… There’s something that needs to be done today, and the timing lines up perfectly. You’ll probably even have some alone time upstairs before I get home.”

Trisha pressed her lips together, once again caught right away. While it was frustrating, and she really didn’t want to go, she also didn’t want to argue with him right now… not when he’d just stopped being angry with her. She still felt like she had to make it up to him, even if he said it wasn’t necessary. She’d rather keep him happy… she could do something she didn’t want to for once. It was just once. Even if she’d much rather just stay at home, alone or not.

“Fine… I’ll go,” Trisha said with a soft sigh, tilting her head down to look at him. Hair that had fallen out of her ponytail during the fight framed her face and cascaded down towards his.
“Just this once, since you want me to and won’t be home anyway. I’m doing this for you, okay? I expect loads of kisses when we’re both back. Loads and loads.”

She leaned down to kiss him gently then, a bit awkward with how he was holding her. But she needed it to push past the annoyance that was bubbling up again. She wanted to enjoy their time together before she had to go to the meeting. She pulled away as the elevator reached the top, doors opening with a ping.
“I’ll need to shower before then… unless I spend the rest of the day looking like I had a really bad nose bleed and got it everywhere.”

Gently patting her rear, Casey waved his free hand forward with a flourish. She’d pulled away as it was, even if he wanted to keep holding her, so if she really wanted to run, he figured he’d let her.
”Are you okay? I mean… Like, do you think you can get upstairs? Or do you want to shower down here? Because I need to file the incident report so we can track resources spent, and I figured I’d do that while you were showering, so…” he let his voice trail off, leaving the statement open for her to answer.

Trisha looked up at him, head tilting from side to side for a moment as she thought about it. She needed to get a change of clothes, so she'd have to go upstairs to get those. Then wouldn't it make more sense to just shower upstairs? But if she showered downstairs then Casey would be right outside. She'd probably have to come back down anyway…
“Aw, I was hoping you'd shower with me," Trisha half joked. There wasn't exactly room, and she'd rather he filed that report while she was busy anyway.
“I’m okay, the key lime did its job… but I'll go get a change of clothes and shower down here. I'd rather be close- and then I can subject you to ten minutes of me drying my hair."

She moved towards the elevator door, then changed her mind, spinning around and going up onto her tiptoes to quickly kiss him again.
“I’ll be back down soon."
Trisha turned around and hurried down the hall, going as quickly as she could across the roof. It was chilly, and she wasn't dressed to be outside unless she was exercising. Actually choosing something to wear took a bit more time. She didn't want to get changed again, so it needed to be something she was comfortable wearing to the adjoined meeting tonight… but also comfortable enough for making a bee memorial. Eventually she chose, and went back downstairs.

After another quick drive by kiss, but not wanting to disturb Casey too much, Trisha got into the shower. Another thing that took a while - she had to wash away all the sweat and blood, which was most difficult where it had gotten on her hair. Just washing hair as long as hers was enough to a pain without getting blood in it. Eventually she emerged, wearing a cozy dark green wool jumper tucked into wide legged jeans. She stopped just a bit before Casey's chair, holding up the hairdryer she'd brought down with her.
“Where should I do this that won't bother you? My office?" Not that she wanted to spend more time apart from him while they were actually together before tonight, but after the sheep in the game last night… she was a bit more aware that random sounds might be an issue for him.

Having swiftly dispatched the evil paperwork meant for himself to read and keep record of (a redundancy he was more than used to in the military), Casey was free to worry about the current situation that needed his attention. He didn’t love that he was being tasked by Grace to a situation where he felt like a glorified mobster. There was no joy in intimidating or hurting mundane people who chose to get into the way of the Temple’s path. The only way he was coping right now was by imagining that the Temple itself was a cruise liner or a battleship in the ocean: Stopping the momentum wasn’t reasonable in such a short period of time.

Did he want to keep the engine running? Of course not: And he’d already discussed this sort of thing with Lynette. Classically, she redirected toward God’s plan and the Temple’s status as the Chosen Peoples. It made him a little sick; especially after having spent the last part of the war fighting a group of people who took that sentiment with them in every part of their life…
No… Not all of them. Only the cream atop the milk was spoiled.
He liked to imagine that people were inherently good, and that it was more often circumstance which allowed evil to fester and rot the soul.

It begged the question: What did he think of his mother? Even he didn’t know for sure, and every waking moment involved with her was a gamble with one’s morals and sanity. He felt the problem with evil was that it never saw itself in black and red. Evil, in its own ego, was bedecked in white and gold in appeal to its own self aggrandizement. Maybe it was to protect itself, but Casey thought it was almost always ignorance. It had to be if one was going to accept all humans were good…

The bad guys only see their vision as good… How could they ever stop what they thought was right?

But the stressful feeling that had Casey cupping his face and self-soothing all melted away when he saw Trisha fresh, dressed and squeaky clean. He looked at her with those same warm, bright blue eyes he always looked at her with, and a smile crossed his face that hopefully told Trisha everything was okay.
Spinning his chair to face her, he patted his lap.

”You can do it right here. I’ll even help you get it dry quicker.” he said gently, almost longingly as his feet scooted the chair toward her.

“With magic?" Trisha smiled back at him, quite happily closing the rest of the distance and climbing into his lap. She twisted herself to sit sideways across his legs. The tension that had come back just in the time she couldn't see him disappeared the moment she was close enough to feel his warmth. Those little worries that he'd think about it when they were apart, or the paperwork would be so annoying he'd be irritated with her… but he wasn't. He was looking at her and smiling at her just the same as normal.
“Either way you can hold it, just point it towards my hair." She handed the hairdryer over to him and wriggled a bit as she pulled a small comb out of her pocket. Then she pulled her long, damp hair over her shoulder so she could actually reach most of it.

“Sometimes I think about cutting my hair much shorter, because it's so annoying to deal with sometimes… but my mom always had shorter hair, and I don't want to look like her. I like it, really, it's just a pain." As she talked she quickly brushed through it to get out any bad knots before it was dried.

As Casey took the drier, he started to tussle Trisha’s hair, teasing out little knots he could find. Having his own hair so long, and that being the Richoux’s common styling since they were children, gave him a leg up on helping her deal with the long, thick mop of hair she was dealing with herself.
”No matter how your hair looks, you’re still an Angel to me… Hey, look-”

Still in his lap, he spun the chair slightly to look at his desk. There were pictures where there hadn’t been before; apparently a slow process of moving into the space comfortably. Most of them were full of people, almost all of them in uniform. His free hand pulled one of the pictures down and placed it on the desk so Trisha could better examine it.
Honestly, it would’ve been terribly difficult to figure out which one was Casey were he not so fucking tall. Though, many of them looked freakish just the same. It was actually astonishing how clear the fact that this was a group of magical individuals was.

There was Casey, bald and beardless, holding this massive kind of rifle Trisha hadn’t even seen in movies. Then another man, dark skinned, shirtless with a helmet. They were flanked by a woman, and the very clear Apparition attached to her which seemed to replace an arm with some old naval cannon. An individual of indeterminate biological orientation, as they appeared to be more animal than human overall; not a bear, not a lion, not a tiger… But somehow all three and more at once.
And those were just a few of the dozens who posed for a picture surrounding and clambering atop this massive construct or undead behemoth… Something big that they’d probably killed. The scenery didn’t offer much in the way of interest, as it was mostly sand and sky… Clearly somewhere in North Africa.

”That’s my short hair… I started growing it back as soon as I could.”

“That’s… really short…" Trisha leaning in towards the desk, eyes squinting to look at the picture. It was a lot to take in, both Casey completely shaved and all the different types of magic on display. It was like some of the pictures the old coven had gotten… more obvious, because there were so many adepts in that group. But she still tried to take it in as best as she could, looking over everyone there, and everything in the background. She looked away from the photo and back over at Casey, head slightly tilted.
“Good to know you'll still be really handsome even if you start to go bald… though I like how your hair is now."

She smiled at him - though she felt that wouldn't really matter anyway. She was attracted to him for more than just his looks… really it was the other stuff, his personality and how he treated her, that made her like him so much.
“Shortest I've had mine was just above my shoulders when I was… ten? My mum made me cut it." She shrugged as if it hadn't been a terribly traumatic ordeal during one of her summer visits. She understood, she'd barely been able to maintain the long, messy waves she'd had then but it was still… the lack of choice. Her head turned back towards the picture.

“Is that your… squad, then? I don't really know the terminology." She stopped brushing her hair as she asked, having got most of the knots out, and reached up to tap his hand holding the hairdryer to indicate he could start it.

The whirring of the dryer almost drowned out his mostly soft voice.
”That’s the Platoon, Baby. Squads are usually around ten people, and three or so Squads make a Platoon. Sergeant Pasqual was in charge of our Squad.-”
Casey pointed to the dark skinned man next to him in the picture. Then his hand slid upward to tap on one of the men standing at the very top of the behemoth they were gathered around. This one too was a giant of a man, only he really made Casey look tiny. He made everyone look tiny, and the harpoon thing he was still gripping onto that was stuck out of their hunt looked like something you’d find holding up a barn.

”Lieutenant Gerber led us all. He was in charge of our ragtag group of hellions, and I’ll probably miss him every day of my life. He was just one of those guys, you know? Everything slid right off that massive back. We called him Baby Huey… He liked it. He liked being mercilessly teased and bullied and… And I don’t think I ever met a person who took advantage of that. He was just too nice, too kind. Too willing to be a good man.”
Casey had stopped moving the hair dryer, indicating his slow transition into another time and another place. Focus and attention drained, the warm air from the dryer blowing just perfect enough in his face that there was no way it didn’t feel like Libya. It was hot and dry and he didn’t like it.

Finally the annoyance of it brought him out, and he took a deep breath before kissing Trisha on top of the head. The dryer began to move again.
”Sorry… I know I keep the pictures, but I don’t look at it every time thinking about how many of those people are dead. You know? Maybe you’d get that way seeing a picture of the Coven together before stuff got bad…” he offered the thought.

Trisha didn't think she'd get that way seeing a picture of the Coven. Was there even one? She remembered a few people took them… Bianca Manalo had been especially annoying with it. Things weren't so bad when she'd joined… aside from what had led to her joining in the first place. But was she really close to anyone who died? She liked them enough… dated some of the dead before they were killed… The memorial she refused to visit… Martin…
“I don't know if I would, it wasn't the same. There were so many of us." Trisha looked down at her hair, brushing through it on autopilot as the hairdryer moved over it.
“Nobody died from the main group I was in." Which was technically true, if she just thought of herself as part of the rich clique, as opposed to one of the members that very actively mingled. Trying to make friends and find a family she didn't have elsewhere. It didn't work out in the end.

“I’m sorry I made you think about it," she reached out for his free hand with her own, gently tangling their fingers. It made things a bit awkward for her with her hair, but that was fine. She didn't really know how to offer comfort otherwise… it wasn't like she had the same issues. Definitely not, she avoided a lot of things related to the former coven, like the memorial, because it was awkward. She gripped his hand a bit tighter. It really wasn't the same.
“If you don't want me to ask about them, I won't… and if you ever want to talk about it, I'll be here."

Casey frowned slightly, tilting his head and kissing her scalp again.
”I love those people. I always wanna talk about them, remember them, think about them. I’d say it’s not their fault I’m still alive, but I can point out a couple of people who probably died directly because they chose to save my ass… But I’d be dead in their place if the roles were reversed.”
His free hand still ran through Trisha’s hair, separating sections to get them dried quicker and more efficiently overall.
”You know I would’ve died to protect you today, right? Today and any day.” he whispered into her ear, his head moving to the side of her head to speak it.

Trisha froze, not responding at first, breathing quickening slightly. Her hands kept moving on autopilot through her hair as Casey did most of the work. It should be comforting, but it wasn't. She didn't want him to die to protect her. Because then he'd be leaving her. He'd leave her in a way she couldn't get him back. She'd have to watch him die and live with knowing he'd thrown away his life for someone like her. Just like…

“I don't want you to die for me," she said quietly, staring straight ahead without quite seeing. The shadows cast by the table and the screens were increasing in her sight, like they were creeping towards her. Phantom pain across her abdomen, one hand dropping as if to cover the scar already hidden by her clothes… she didn't remember it, just the pain, the bees that didn't listen, the unnatural screams. The emptiness afterwards. Suppressing it.
“You’re not allowed to die first. I'll- I'll stay out of danger, just don't leave me like that. I don't want that. I'd rather we both died." Because dying was better than going back to living all alone.
“Don’t make me go through that." Again.

There was a moment where, probably just after Casey abruptly turned the blow dryer off, one could hear a horn in the far distant bay signaling its return to port. Casey didn’t turn Trisha to look at him, but if she chose to look back to see what the holdup was, she’d be greeted by a stone-faced Casey staring far off into a wall.
He didn’t want to look down at her, didn’t want to feel her vague sadness as he imagined the infinite worlds where she could possibly put herself in harms way trying to protect him. His teeth clenched into themselves so tightly, the veins around his neck were starting to pop out.

”Then maybe we’ll forget it. Who needs to die, huh?” he said, voice straining slightly. He took a brief moment, a deep breath pushing out of his nose. Eyes closed, he took his free arm and wrapped it around Trisha tightly, and then he sat for a moment in that silence, face buried in her still-damp hair.
”Lets just make smart choices, and watch one another’s backs. Deal?”

Every bit of that moment was his post-deployment behavioral therapy being fully deployed to deal with a situation. He was mere milliseconds away from escalation, from the bring of maybe touching off an argument, maybe just shaming her into crying more; he didn’t know and he didn’t care. He hated his base instincts, and in that moment had the urge to drown himself in a tub of flaming petrol.

But that would be just as bad, wouldn’t it Soldier Boy?

“Deal," Trisha whispered back. She was trembling slightly, bringing her knees up towards her chest so she was a tight ball on his lap. Her body tilted towards him, and underneath his face her head seemed to move up and down in a constant, slight nodding motion. Forget it. Yes, that's what she wanted to do. What she always did. She took a deep breath, eyes moving to look at her knees rather than the creeping shadows around the room. They weren't real, anyway.

As the irritating panic subsided to just a background noise, she tilted her head up to look at Casey. Her eyes were slightly red, but she hadn't actually been crying. Unshed tears, from what he'd initially said and an event she was trying her best to completely forget again. There were still hints of desperation in her eyes, more fear than she should have over some simple words. But she managed to smile at him all the same, forcing it out.
“Didn’t you… you said this morning about going for your official discharging this weekend? I'd like to come… unless there's some reason you think I shouldn't?" Changing subject seemed best, though she wasn't sure if it was the right subject to change to. But her mind was filled with noise - bee death, human death - and she could only think of something he'd said they'd talk about.

Casey’s eyes lit up at the thought like he was a coin-slot doll coming to life. He had mentioned his discharging… Maybe that was part of why he was so on edge. He’d been so far gone from his position for so long that it felt like he left the military months ago. But, the reality was he was still reporting, and the only reason he hadn’t been in recently was approved leave for the Halloween Festival. Which meant, it was his last report and technically his official discharge. He didn’t imagine too much was going to happen to see him off considering the unit he was a part of in the Reserve…
”What? No, Babe, there’s absolutely no reason you shouldn’t come. It’ll be the most tame thing you’ve had to adjust to around me, I promise. Magical security is the shit; we’re actually allowed to bring our significant others to bases and shit because the White Adepts are all Federal narcs. Super Rats, practically; they’ll fuckin’ shit on you if you steal a pen. So, I guess just don’t take anything?” he laughed aloud.

The blow dryer flicked back on and he began to dry her hair again, thinking about the few people he’d bother going to say goodbye to. It wasn’t like active duty… The people just weren’t the same. Agnew, Deetz, Sheffield… Obviously Commander Kurgan.
”If anything, it’ll probably be quick too. I can’t think of too many people I care about seeing before I go.”

“Good thing I've got enough pens I don't need to steal any," Trisha laughed lightly, unfurling her body and her hands moving back to her hair to brush it out as it was dried.
“Will it just be a day trip then? The discharging- I assume there's paperwork- and seeing the people you want to, that's it? That does sound pretty tame in comparison… really, magical soldiers just sound like less immature Coven members."

Casey laughed.
”It’s the Coven of the United States Government… You’re perfectly correct.”
Petty, lazy fucks: Sounded just like Sycamore to him.
Looking at his clock on the table, he saw it was still fairly early. Early enough that he wanted to relax before real work started.

”Hey, if we get you all cleaned up like this, is a nap out of the question?” he asked her casually.

“Already tired from the day?" Trisha asked back with a soft smile. She raised a hand to her chin as if thinking hard about how to answer.
“It’s not out of the question. As long as my hair’s properly dried first it'll be fine. If I lie down with it wet it's an absolute pain to deal with afterwards. I don't sweat much when I nap… I don't think… we can go lie down if you want to. Some cuddling sounds really nice." Her hair was almost dry, anyway.

She could feel his fingers starting to search for any more damp spots, which he quickly began to target with the dryer as he smiled to himself.
”When you’re out in the field, you try to sleep whenever you can. You’re always exhausted, your hours are never regular, and you’re on the go constantly; you don’t think, you don’t worry, you just fucking sleep while you can. Some guys had trouble with that, but I didn’t. I only started getting bad nightmares when I got home…-”
He sounded like he was just talking about whatever, but as he did one last search and found her scalp and hair dry to his standard, he cleared his throat.

”-But with you, they’re gone. It… It makes me remember how much I used to love just fuckin’ napping.” he giggled at her, putting the dryer down and kissing her gently on the cheek.
”You make me feel so many things, Trisha… Thank you.”
Of course, he was waiting for her to slide out of his lap, but he probably could’ve fallen asleep right there with her.

Trisha hummed softly as she carefully got up, not moving any further than right in front of him.
“Well, we can have plenty of naps together. I only ever really napped because I had to from not sleeping. Especially against… the Snake, because we had to be up all night. I was used to it more then but it's nice to just nap because I feel like it. With you."
She leaned in, hands loosely falling on his shoulders and nose rubbing against his. Her eyes gently creased as she smiled. Yeah, it was the same for her. Casey made her feel a lot of things she didn't normally. Safe, loved…
“You’re welcome for getting beaten up in a place you could find me," she giggled, before kissing him softly. As she pulled away she held out a hand for him.

He only shook his head with a stupid grin, taking her hand gently before rushing forward and scooping her up off her feet. It wasn’t his shift right now; he didn’t care about the office being empty… He only cared about being with Trisha. Only the comfort so long denied.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

---

Interactions: Nobody Alive
Linqian’s House, November 8th

---

’Thoughts, they never stop when they're unsaid’

---

Linqian woke up in cold sweat, to complete silence.

It was still dark. Dim street lights peeked through the flimsy blinds, streaking across the bed. Linqian’s head turned to the side, towards the clock she had beside her bed. She squinted to see through the fuzziness.

Six am.

Too early. Of course the first morning I can lie in I wake up early. Fucking hell, that your fault, Hai-er?

There was no response. Only silence.

Hai-er? Jinhai? Jinhai. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck!

Linqian sat up, hands grasping at her head and clawing her hair out of its tight bun. Her nails dug into her scalp as if she could gouge out the brother she’d known was never actually in there. It was all just magic. Magic that Greyson had put in there to calm her- but what the fuck? What the actual fuck?! How could he fucking do that. She’d had a glimpse of what things should fucking be like. Heard him again, just like she always should. Just like in the pink mist.

Then it was all torn away. Again.

It got worse every single time. She kept regaining the hope she’d fucking lost. She knew that he was dead… but it was still so fucking hard to accept. Every morning she woke up expecting to find him in the kitchen, or to wake up to him banging on her door with some snide fucking comment. But it didn’t happen. He was dead. Gone.

No matter how many times she heard his voice in her head, he wasn’t coming back.

Linqian’s face pressed into her thighs as if she could smother herself. She wanted to. What was the point in a world that Jinhai wasn’t fucking in? Things wouldn’t get better. It didn’t fucking matter how much money she got. There was an emptiness that couldn’t be fucking replaced… It was so difficult to care.

Why didn’t he come back? Why, why, why, why?

It was difficult to breathe, like hands were squeezing her lungs. Maybe it was Jinhai. She wished it was Jinhai. Each agonising breath was exhaled as a sob, dampness hitting her legs. Tears. She couldn’t contain them any longer… Fuck it. Fuck it all.

It should have been me, it should have been me, it should have been me.

Linqian bit into her thigh to choke out the pained cries that threatened to escape. She couldn’t wake up Henri… she couldn’t be seen like this. It was too much. It was all too much.

No matter how hard she held it all in, she was always going to break.

It was so fucking quiet with only her thoughts. They echoed over and over again with no response. It was just her. She was alone. Fuck, she was all alone, and she couldn’t deal with it. What the fuck was she meant to do? Why hadn’t it been her, why couldn’t it have been her?

Did she really deserve to live over him? No. She didn’t. Fuck, she really fucking didn’t. What was she without him? Nothing. She needed him… she needed him so fucking much. Without him she was drowning in a dark, empty fucking world. It hurt so fucking much. One hand came down to her chest, nails scratching through fabric to try and tear out her heart.

It would be so much fucking easier without it.

She was never fucking letting Greyson in her head again. Never. It was so much fucking worse when it all came crashing down. The emptiness more obvious. A barbed knife being twisted in an already gaping wound. His voice was so vivid in her mind, but it wasn’t there. What had began to fade was clear and it hurt so fucking much.

”Please come back. Please just fucking come back.”

It was so cold. The kind of cold that wasn’t warded away as Linqian pulled her duvet around herself, still curled up into a tight ball. It was the kind of cold that came with being empty. It wouldn’t go away.

And he wouldn’t come back, no matter how much she begged for it, or how much she silently screamed into her skin. Jinhai was dead.

And he’d taken most of her with him.

---

The Lampside Bistro

---

Linqian couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. She’d reached out by choice to Sloane to talk about the funeral and organised to meet her Tuesday morning, bright and early. At least she’d gotten plenty of sleep the night before for once… it meant she was less likely to snap the moment she saw Sloane’s dour face.

Since she’d suggested meeting, Linqian had also selected the place. The Lampside Bistro was a small, rustic restaurant which served food throughout the day. It was only a fifteen minute walk from her house and primarily served locals, rather than having any appeal to tourists, being located in the Southern side of the city. It had been around as long as Linqian could remember. While small, the wooden booth style tables offered some amount of privacy and the food was nice.

Most importantly, it had been one of Jinhai’s favourite places to frequent, both as a teenager to study somewhere out of the house and as an adult the few times he returned to St Portwell.

She hadn’t been in a long time, and never without him.

It seemed fitting. Living as close as she did, Linqian got there a fair bit early, ordering a black coffee and finding a seat tucked away in the corner but still visible from the entrance.

Sloane opened the door precisely at their agreed upon meeting time, a black SUV driving off behind her. Her typical stark and rigid appearance like that of a highly-decorated military officer was betrayed by near microscopic imperfections that on anyone else would be imperceptible—a wrinkle on her shirt, a bit of lint on her coat, a piece of hair refusing to fall in line with the others—that hinted at some kind of unravelling. Exhaustion, undoubtedly, and a deep one at that judging by the dark bags under her eyes that could’ve been mistaken for sloppy application of eyeshadow. Sloane looked around the restaurant. At first she glanced over Linqian, her eyes focusing on an empty booth by the window where she’d last seen Jinhai in person, old regrets resurfacing anew.

Her jaw stiffened and she moved forward, sitting down in the seat across from Linqian without any real acknowledgement as Sloane busied herself with something in her purse. She pulled out a sleek, black notebook and an old fountain pen, setting them neatly on the table, before most peculiarly producing a glass bottle of kombucha, taking a sneaky sip out of it, and slipping it back into her bag. She made a disgusted look with her face and then flipped open the notebook, revealing neatly written notes categorizing different types of memorial services and their costs. She picked up the pen, clicked it, looked at the cup of coffee in front of Linqian, and then finally made eye contact with her.

“I never understood why he liked this place,” said Sloane matter-of-factly. “The coffee here was always terrible.”

A comment about how no amount of kombucha would get rid of Sloane's toxicity was on the top of Linqian's tongue, but she managed to swallow it back down with a deep breath. While waking up that morning without Jinhai's voice in her head anymore had been horrible, she'd had her emotional reaction there and then. Now, she was as calm as she could ever be… calm enough to not immediately blow up at Sloane over her comments, at least. It was an active struggle. ”Habit, comfort? He got attached. It was the only place close enough and near enough he could study in for hours as a teen. Cause y'know, we've never been fucking rich. Coffee's coffee.”

She let out a harsh exhale. She hadn't invited Sloane out to bicker - if there wasn't something practical to be done she wouldn't want to see her at all. At least here Sloane's efficiency and general lack of emotion was useful. Linqian leaned forward to look at the notes as best as she could when they were upside down, loose curls falling forward off her shoulders. The prices she could easily skim through like that, but the details…

”This is… impressive,” Linqian said, meaning it as she gestured to the notebook. She hadn't even had time to think about the specifics outside of needing to bury her brother. Between work, looking after her brother, and all the coven nonsense she'd barely had time to care for herself… well fuck, didn't look like Sloane did either. Those dark bags were the kind that Linqian regularly had to cover up under her own eyes with magic. It didn't exactly make her feel any sympathy, but at least it proved that Sloane was human.

”Let’s just get it over with then. First off, I got a new job… Pays pretty fucking well. I'll be able to afford the service myself.” Wasn't technically true, since she didn't know when she'd get her first paycheck. But saying that Greyson would pay for it was a great way to have Sloane get all pissy. Linqian wasn't dealing with that right now. She'd just rather owe Greyson money than she would Sloane, since he could take it right outta her fucking paycheck if he wanted to. But unfortunately, much as she would rather Greyson cover the costs, she'd rather not have him involved in the planning. ”So I can afford it all now, thankfully. But…”

Linqian grimaced, tilting her head back to look up at the ceiling rather than Sloane. She swore under her breath. She really didn't fucking want to say this. Fuck, it was the closest to being nice to Sloane she'd ever gotten. Jinhai better be fucking happy wherever he was now. ”I’d still like your help with the planning. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing with it.”

Sloane’s hand stilled, gripping the corner of the notebook. It had moved to close it the second Linqian mentioned paying for the funeral herself, anticipating Linqian to follow up with a sharp fuck off that, frankly, would’ve been deserved. Outside of a little research online and a few phone calls, Sloane had felt like she had failed on her end of the deal with Linqian regarding Jinhai’s memorial. There were dozens of excuses as to why she’d never been able to bring up fundraising with the people Linqian had suggested, but the ultimate reason was that Sloane didn’t want to. Forking over a few extra thousand was less painful than trying to have a conversation with Britney or needlessly being questioned by the others who would surely doubt her intentions.

“Okay,” said Sloane. It was worse than admitting that she’d like to help but infinitely better than agreeing with Linqian that it was clear that she didn’t know what the fuck she was doing.

She flipped the notebook so that it was easier for Linqian to read. It was clear that a lot of thought and care had gone into the planning. Too much, almost. Listings of types of services and potential venues, means of burial and gravemarkers, varieties of urns if Linqian wanted to keep the ashes, and places to spread them if she didn’t. Some of the spots would be familiar to Linqian, areas that she’d recognize as significant to Jinhai, while others would be foreign, secret haunts whose significance were known only to Sloane. The list was essentially a confessional, letting Linqian know then and there exactly how deeply Sloane had cared about Jinhai. There was a kind of pathetic sadness to it too, as the list had glaring omissions in it that Linqian would immediately notice, their absence serving to highlight how her brother’s feelings towards Sloane could not be described as mutual.

“I had a few ideas,” understated Sloane, sliding the notebook over to Linqian. “I circled the ones I thought Jinhai would like, but you should obviously get the final say anyway. And not just because you’re paying for it. Congratulations, by the way.” Her words were hollow. They almost sounded like an admittance of defeat. Sloane clarified, “On the new job, I mean. What is it?”

Linqian raised her eyebrows, while trying to figure out how to explain what her new job was without immediately pointing to Greyson. It shouldn’t unless Sloane started questioning it too much, and hopefully she wouldn’t care enough to. They weren’t exactly fucking close. Linqian was surprised she had even congratulated her on the first place, even if it was the most lacklustre congratulations she’d ever received. ”It’s a manager job on a tobacco farm… Not here, but there’s enough I can do long distance.”

It was a simple enough explanation, and one that shouldn’t lead to many questions. It wasn’t like a highschool degree was obviously needed for a job like that. She leaned over to properly read through everything Sloane had written out, wanting to move past that topic quickly. It was… incredibly well thought out. Enough that Linqian could tell just how much Sloane actually liked Jinhai from it. It was in a way that Linqian would have probably worried about and disliked when her brother was alive, but now…

It was sad in a way that Linqian could almost feel sympathy. At least she accepted that Sloane was grieving him too… and grieving something she could never have. ”This location would be best. I want it to be small, and private. Me, our brother, family friends, you and any other coven members that were close to him. Not an open invitation.”

She’d pointed to a circled venue that was a small function hall within St Portwell university - in an older building with a clear academic feel. It wasn’t expensive to hire, but that wasn’t the focus. While Jinhai hadn’t attended the city’s university outside of a few academic conferences, his intelligence and achievements would be reflected by a venue within a university. It was the place he’d spent most of his life. ”I already know where I want to bury the majority of his ashes… There’s a small open plot near our parents in the cemetery in this part of the city. That would be after the ceremony with even less people. There’s some Chinese traditions I want to incorporate into that - burning joss paper, and the like. It’s what we did for my parents.”

She moved onto ash scattering locations. ”For scattering the rest… The old coven lair, of course. Cascade Pines… out of the way, but nice. Oceanview Gardens- cause fuck, it’ll be a bit weird to do it off the coast there, but he… we went there a lot. It’s not on this list, but there’s a smaller park in this area, too. And if there’s anywhere significant other people want to scatter them, that would be fine.”

Linqian leaned back, looking away from the notes for a moment. Her eyes were practically swimming from all of the words, but more than that, it was the thought of organising all of this for Jinhai. Jinhai, who should still be here, who’s voice had sounded so real in her mind the day before… ”I don’t even fucking know where to start with the ceremony itself. Eulogies? Much as he’d probably want it, I can’t fucking speak at it. It’d be a shitshow. Our brother… he’ll break down. Fuck.” Linqian grimaced, pausing long enough that Sloane could actually interject.

“I could always say something, but…” Sloane stared at the table. “Eulogies, prayers, whatever, none of those really ever seem to bring any sort of comfort. There’s a surrealness to them, an artificiality that no matter how heartfelt still always feels phoney. We could do them if you feel the need to adhere to some kind of tradition, but personally I feel it might be best to have something a little more stripped away from all the pageantry. Something more akin to a celebration of his life instead of us simply mourning our loss.”

“There’d still be photos and flowers, but also some food and drink. People can simply come and go as they please to swap stories, pay their respects, and to meet with people whom they never would have met or stand with people who they normally cannot stand solely because of how much your brother mattered to them. No real structure or ceremonies. No priests, no funeral staff, tears acceptable but ideally caused by laughter or a bittersweet memory. To those outside it would look like a farewell party,” said Sloane.

“And although it isn’t my call, I think you should make it an open invitation. Your brother was special,” the ‘to me’, while implied, was unsaid. “I’m sure he was special to a lot of people, more than you or I were ever aware of. His college friends, for one. Roommates, exes, people who knew a side of Jinhai that we didn’t have a chance to know. I’m sure some of them might be fucking terrible,” said Sloane with a bitter laugh. “But if Jinhai can allow for the two of us to sit down across from one another and have a civil conversation then I’m sure that those people would easily be able to behave themselves for him for a few hours.”

“Anyway, if all of that sounds good then the only question that remains is when,” said Sloane.

Doing away with the eulogies and prayers that Linqian would’ve never allowed anyway was something Linqian could agree with. It sounded nice. A good way to remember him, letting them talk about the positive impact he’d made on people. She wasn’t one for crying around others anyway, and wouldn’t have to deal with people thinking she was cold or unfeeling for not doing so at her own brother’s memorial service. ”I agree with stripping it down to something more natural. While he was fucking good at faking it, Jinhai never like stuffy things like that. We’ve already missed most of the traditions I’d consider following… He’d love to have that many people talking about him. I can cook some of his favourite dishes.”

But then there was the open invitation. Sloane was, annoyingly, right again. There were people outside of St Portwell that deserved to be at Jinhai’s memorial - even people who didn’t. But it was none of them that were the problem… it was him. Her ex-boyfriend who was originally close friends with Jinhai, and still in his circle of college friends. But surely he wouldn’t? Not after everything that had fucking happened and how Jinhai had cut him off. Even if he heard about it, he wouldn’t be that bad. Fuck. She couldn’t cut off so many for one absolute piece of shit. ”And we’ll make it an open invite. There are some people I can contact so the word goes out.”

”As for when… As soon as possible, but there needs to be enough time for people to get here. End of next week, or early the week after. I don’t want to push it back much longer unless I bury him separately. He’s been… neglected for too long.”

A silence hung between the two.

“I can see about calling the university and reserving the hall. Making some of his favorite dishes is a good idea, but I’ll arrange for some other food and drinks as well—I imagine there’ll be more people than one person can cook for. You’ll have to handle calling about the cemetery plot. Oh, and maybe you could make a blog about it on,” Sloane snapped her fingers trying to remember the name, “Friendster? I don’t have one.”

Sloane slid the notebook back over to herself. Her lips parted and trembled ever so slightly, then she reached into her purse as if going back in for her kombucha to quench her thirst. She instead pulled out a checkbook, the trembling having been silent counting, and jotted down a number on the check before tearing it off and passing it over to Linqian. There was an almost aggressive flourish to the way Sloane clicked her pen and returned it and the checkbook to her bag.

“I’ll take care of the hall. That should cover the plot,” said Sloane, staring Linqian square in the eyes. “As I said before, there’s no strings attached. This money isn’t for you. It’s for Jinhai. But, if for whatever reason you find that unacceptable, you can always try to pay me back once you start collecting paychecks from this,” the corner of Sloane’s lips twitched, forming a blink-and-miss-it smirk, “lucrative remote farming job.”

Linqian narrowed her eyes at Sloane, before tilting her head down to look at the cheque. Her lips pulled down from a thin line into a scowl. Of course. Of fucking course. Sloane didn’t believe she had a job. What did she think she was doing? Quitting her normal one and just living off fuck all? Linqian didn’t even take the cheque, forcing Sloane to put it on the table. One rough fingertip pressed into it. ”Jinhai wouldn’t want to accept the money either. Believe me, I know him way fucking better than you do.”

Now glaring at Sloane across the table, Linqian pushed the cheque back over. ”Pay for the hall, I’ll cover the fucking plot with the job I actually have. Why the fuck would I make something like that up? Unlike you, I’ve gotta worry about bills and keeping my brother fed. I don’t need any of your money, Sloane. I’ll pay for the hall too when I have more money. You can take your shit attitude and inherited money elsewhere.”

A flush of red came to Sloane’s cheeks. It felt to her as if Linqian had just slapped her across the face. Sloane’s hand shot forward as if to strike in retaliation, smacking the table so hard as her hand hit the check that some of Linqian’s coffee splashed out of the cup. Meanwhile, the check careened across the table, flying off of the edge and bouncing against Linqian’s chest before falling into her lap.

“Don’t make this a thing. Rip it up later if you want. Burn it. I don’t care. Just fucking take it. Besides,” Sloane gritted her teeth.

Besides, I wasn’t the one who said the job was made up. Oh no, I’m sure there are so many managerial jobs that require neither a high school degree nor previous job experience nor a single ounce of interpersonal skills whatsoever. There’s tons and I’m sure they all pay extremely well. I mean, what would the other reality be? That you’re so stupid, prideful, and petty that you’d sink yourself further into debt just to spite my fucking act of kindness? But that would mean you’re a shitty person then. Oh, wait, thought the tiny voice in the back of Sloane’s head..

“Besides, I heard what you said at the last meeting. You’re not a fucking idiot. Or maybe you are,” Sloane shrugged stiffly, her eyes dull and unfocused. “But while everyone else wants to chase after billionaires or take a field trip to hell, you can at least realize how fucked we are when it comes to dealing with Father Wolf. So either you can hope that he gets you before me, or you can just take the money so once we’re both dead your little brother doesn’t have to keep you in a fucking shoebox next to Jinhai.”

”Don’t fucking bring my little brother into this,” Linqian snapped, snatching the cheque off her lap. She wanted to burn it right there and then, but they were in public. She wasn’t stupid enough to display magic like that… so she scrunched it up and shoved it in a pocket. ”You’re right we’re fucked with Father Wolf, but unlike you, I actually have people who’d care enough to bury me. Greyson, for one - he fucking cares enough-” about Henri- ”to try pay for Jinhai’s funeral too. Who’ll fucking mourn you? Anya? She won’t fucking care.”

”So if I die first, don’t fucking bother.” Linqian’s hand also slammed on the table, more coffee splashing out and onto her hand. She didn’t even flinch. She stood, just to lean over closer to Sloane. ”Also? He’s not in a fucking shoebox, he’s in a nice wooden one that I hand engraved his name in myself.”

Sloane turned her head, studying the tile on the floor. Her crossed arms gripped her sleeves so tightly that the seams holding the sleeves to the shoulder were threatening to pop. It was funny. Normally she didn’t care what someone like Linqian would think, because normally she’d assume that someone like Linqian was wrong. Yet today her words hit harder. If the refusal of her money had been a slap, then saying that nobody would care if she died was a knife in the chest. Maybe it was the stress. The exhaustion. The little nagging voice in Sloane’s head that told her that Linqian probably wasn’t wrong—except about Anya. Sloane shut her eyes hard, her face scrunching as if she’d taken another sip of kombucha.

“Don’t make a scene,” she said. To herself? Hard to tell.

”Don’t make a scene?” Linqian repeated, eyes narrowing at Sloane. The lack of response only made Linqian more pissed off, even as she tried to pull herself back in. What would Jinhai say? He'd tell her to chill out and not let it bother her too much, or to just back away. Except she couldn't fucking hear him say that anymore, because he was fucking dead. And because he was dead she was forced to tolerate Sloane's presence to make sure he got the memorial service he deserved. ”It’d be a lot fucking worse if I was making a scene.”

Linqian’s jaw clenched, biting down on the more heated words and actions that would follow. Fuck Sloane, but fuck giving her anymore of her time. She could be sad and miserable alone. Linqian had better fucking things to do right now. With that in mind, thinking about Jinhai, she managed to pull herself down from a full on explosion. ”Take care of the hall. Text me the details and I’ll set up a blog. I’ll be civil on the day for Jinhai, but don’t expect it from me any other fucking time.”

She didn’t wait for Sloane’s response, already on her way out the door with a cigarette pulled out and pushed between her lips, half drunk coffee left on the table. Sloane watched Linqian leaving in the reflection of the baked goods display. She moved to stop her, sliding to the edge of the booth. Something Lynn said the other day had burrowed its way beneath Sloane’s skin and it would require someone like Linqian to lance it before it got worse. She placed her hand on the edge of the table to help herself up then stopped, settling back down in the seat as she watched the trail of smoke disappear beyond the front window of the store.

Sloane huffed, blew a loose strand of hair out of face, and pulled out her cellphone so she could call the hall. She told herself that the window of opportunity had closed, even though she could easily have caught up to the smoker. She told herself it wasn’t worth the fight, even though they were fighting already and had been fighting, in some way or another, for the past ten years. She even told herself that she hadn’t said anything for Linqian’s sake, because there felt little point in making her miserable life even any worse, even though she didn’t care for the woman (and even though Linqian was so ungrateful that she couldn’t even say thank you for all of the work Sloane had done).

“You’re fucking welcome,” muttered Sloane.

Sloane was unsure if the ringing in her ear was just the phone. She tried to ignore the pit forming in her stomach, a common symptom that occurred typically when she lied to herself, such as now. She had so nearly convinced herself that the only reason she hadn’t asked Linqian if Jinhai had seemed any different the days before he was murdered was anything other than fear. It was the fear, however seemingly impossible, that one of Lynn’s predictions was right. Fear that everyone in the Coven was, how did she put it, ticking time bombs, incubating some kind of corruption left over by the Stygian Snake that could pop at any minute. Fear that Father Wolf was less psycho killer and more necessary evil. Fear that, while he didn’t deserve it, Jinhai was better off dead.

Maybe they all were.

The ringing stopped as someone picked up the other line.

“Hello? My name is Sloane Faris, I’m calling about…”

---

Linqian’s House, Afternoon

---

Aaron pulled up to the side of the road, putting the moving van they rented in park as they opened the door and exited the vehicle. The street parking was not free right now so Aaron pulled out his phone and scanned the QR code to pay for a few hours. He then looked around to see if anyone was watching before he swapped forms to Aryin. Ever since father wolf started his killings Aryin has spent much more time in her stronger, more durable form. She had to stay as Aaron to rent the van and drive because, at the end of the day, all their identifications were Aaron. Still, now that she was safely at her destination she was now in the form that not only was durable, but also had the stamina to keep up with the rigors of a move.

Aryin sent a quick text. It was simple, a “do I have to do everything my fucking self’ followed by a ‘I’m here whore’.

After a few moments, there was a shout from across the road. ”You couldn’t have fucking knocked on the door, you bitch? Did you expect me to just fucking stand on the street and fucking wait?!”

Linqian had her hands on her hips, scowling over at Aryin. A door to one of the small, semi-detached houses was left propped open… It wasn’t like there was much of value to steal, and they’d fucking notice. A car drove by and then Linqian walked over, punching Aryin hard in the shoulder as soon as she reached her. She even added a little heat to it. ”Let’s get this fucking over with so we can relax with some beers, cause fuck, I need it.”

”Can we watch shitty movies while we drink,” Aryin chuckled as she opened the back of the moving van. The van was fully half packed, with the mattress, dresser and nightstand only taking up a small amount of the total move. The dresser was big, heavy, and was made of solid wood. The boxes were all stacked neatly and were ready to go from this side.

”If you're fine with a shitty quality TV then yeah we fucking can,” Linqian replied, looking up at the shit ton of stuff they had to move. It'd be fine… she was dressed for the exercise, at least, in a sporty tank top and leggings. ”Y’know I told my brother you'd be coming today but instead of sticking around to help he fucked right off cause he's got essential 'training’ as if that couldn't wait a couple of hours.” She rolled her eyes. ”Where do you want to start? Your room is mostly clear.”

”Let's start with the easy stuff and we’ll make our way to the small amount of furniture I bought?” Aryin scoffed at the mention of Henri not helping, ”when he gets back we should make him do a few hundred pushups and squats. Training.”

”I like that plan, both the easy stuff and making him do all that,” Linqian laughed, stepping into the van and squatting to pick up one of the boxes. ”As if I don’t have to train my magic too… I’ve been too fucking easy on that kid. Well, at least he’s doing something, I guess. He was doing fuck all before.” As she talked Linqian began to cross the road, going towards her house.

Aryin grabbed four boxes, and carried them in each hand, and followed Linqian. ”Look what I can do now,” Aryin said as she started to have a dull glow emanate from her muscles. ” Figuring out how to do plant magic led to me figuring this out,” Aryin laughed, ”Since we’re roommates I'll have to teach you Stonewall now. Get you some training so I don’t have to hold the fucking line by myself,” Aryin Smirked.

”Huh, that’s pretty neat,” Linqian said about the glowing. She then twisted herself to kick Aryin’s leg. ”I’ve already gotta fucking version of Stonewall in the works, from when you were punching me yesterday! It’s much better than it fucking was before, just gotta keep it up a bit longer.”

As they entered the house, they were met with a small entrance hall. Normally Linqian was strict about shoes off inside, but she didn’t want to bother with taking them on and off constantly. As they stepped further in there was a door ajar to their left, showing a kitchen. Linqian just kept going forward and up the stairs right in front of them. ”I’ll show you around after we’ve brought all your shit in.” Up the stairs, she turned to the left, then into the first door on her right. It revealed a medium sized, pretty bare room - containing a bed frame and a wardrobe. ”Here we go - you can do whatever the fuck you want with it.”

”That wardrobe can fit my cosplay stuff,” Aryin said with excitement. She carried the boxes over to the widow and placed each stack down neatly. ”Have I thanked you enough for this? You’re literally letting me move in, can I buy you a beer or something? Like a PBR, something shitty just for you,” Aryin smirked as she looked at the room. It was quaint, but just a bit smaller than her crappy apartment that was stuffed to the rim. She was going to throw away some stuff but she was going to have Linqian and Henri see if they wanted any of it.

”Fucking nerd,” Linqian laughed. ”Yeah, you thanked me a shit ton Sunday- but I’ll accept that beer. You can get a bunch of beers for us tonight, cause there ain’t any in the house. I’ll take a PBR or five cause fuck, it’s needed. Maybe I’ll even let Yi-er have one.” Linqian backed out of the room, gesturing to the door at the top of the stairs. ”That’s the main bathroom. There’s a toilet downstairs, but the only shower’s in there. We might have to time it… I gotta be in there like an hour or two the days I’m properly washing my hair.”

”Timing showers again” Aryin laughed as memories of the mansion flooded her mind, ”I remember your hair routine all too well. Didn’t Emily yell at you for hogging the water one morning? That cunt,” Aryin side eyed Linqian, ”will it be his first drink? If so we need to get some absolutely terrible ones to make it look like drinking is not cool.

”She was such a fucking bitch - I wasn’t even using water most of the time, it’s more the fucking drying stage and shit… Like I want to take so long. It was only like once a week too!” Linqian got a bit pissed just at the thought of Emily, the absolute cunt that she was. But it cooled down thinking about her brother. ”Unfortunately it won’t be. He probably drank at college… and he definitely did after the halloween festival. Little piece of shit, we should definitely get him terrible ones anyway.”

”We could get that awful beer from the import store, what is it called, Tsingtao? We could get that and some Korean BBQ for dinner,” Aryin chuckled at the idea. ”Now. It seems to me that I have more boxes in the van than in here. Lazy ass, let’s go grab some more.

”Sounds fucking good, I’ll send Yi-er round when he’s back, save us delivery cost,” Linqian said, before reaching out to punch Aryin in the shoulder. ”Shut the fuck up, you hoe, I’m doing you a fucking favour here.” But Linqian still went back downstairs and out to the van, grabbing three boxes this time… Anymore and she couldn’t see over them. ”You better fucking do the work too.”

”Will Greyson hire a moving crew next time,” Aryin chuckled, ” he should treat you to the move. And by extension me,” Aryin laughed as she grabbed another four boxes. ”Say, how are your arms and legs feeling? Feeling tired yet, you weak ass bitch.;”

”He fucking better, all that fucking cash and shit… I bet he’ll hire one for him and Brit, so if he doesn’t for us, I’ll get Yi-er on his ass. He can’t resist his overly goofy smile,” Linqian snorted, as she bounded up the stairs to prove that she wasn’t fucking weak. ”Just fine! After four boxes, I don’t feel shit. I’ll keep up for the whole fucking thing, just you watch.”

---

”Why… the fuck… do you have so much shit?!” Linqian complained as she lugged up another three boxes - which felt like the fucking hundredth. ”I fucking swear, I’m beating your ass after this if I don’t get a nice cold beer right a fucking way.”

”I’m an artist and I make my own cosplays,” Aryin said without even breathing hard. This was easy. She was even feeling a little chilly. ”I need my art supplies, sewing machine and supplies. I did also bring a lot of stuff I may throw out but I wanted to see if you or Henri wanted. Old art equipment, boxing equipment, literal iron bars that I strategically placed in your boxes,” Aryin passed Linqian with ease into the house, ”I will be a doll and get you the coldest, most delicious beer I can find…. If you can beat me on the next round of boxes.”

”You fucking bitch, I’ll kick you outta the fucking house,” Linqian groaned, hurrying up her pace. The fact that she was actively channeling her magic to stay cool definitely wasn’t helping with her energy… but she refused to get sweaty and have to take another fucking shower. Not after she’d washed her hair this morning. No fucking way. ”You can sleep on the cold hard ground and see how you fucking like, then crawl back begging to be let back in.”

Aryin placed the boxes down and turned to face Linqian. She pointed towards Linqian with both hands, she then brought them close to her eyes and mimicked a crying motion, before she pointed back to Linqian. Aryin chuckled as she turned around. ”Hell, I’d even do it wearing a maid outfit if you can beat me back up here with the next rounds of boxes.”. Aryin walked to the window and could see the moving van outside.

”Just a maid outfit? Why not a full fucking cosplay… which would you wear?” Linqian asked, quietly moving back towards the door after putting down the boxes she had. Hopefully Aryin would start monologuing about her cosplays and she could quickly go down and back up.

”How about my Jane Doe cosplay,” Aryin chuckled as she knew that nothing Linqian could do would ever make her win this challenge, ”her walk and all. Like you’d be able to beat me. You’re exhausted, and I literally cannot be exhausted. I’ll still get you all the cold beer you can desire tonight though. As my-”

Aryin paused as she watched Linqian grab three boxes from the van before turning around and saw she was indeed gone. ”Fucking whore,” Aryin said with a scowl, but chuckled as she ran to the stairs. ”YOU BITCH.”. Aryin did not block her way, ”that desperate to see my Jane Doe, huh?”.

”Oh you know I do,” Linqian grinned, winking at Aryin as she took the stairs two at the time, panting heavily by the time she got to the top and moved past Aryin into the room. ”Go on, get it fucking on. I gotta get some eye candy to keep going, y’know? Ain’t any better options around.”

---

An hour later Aryin walked up to the van in her full Jane Doe cosplay, tail, wig and all. It was a very faithful, and very accurate, cosplay and Aryin was quite proud of it. As she walked she did the strut that she did even while wearing the high heels she wore. She looked back at Linqian and winked, opening her mouth while licking her teeth seductively. ”All the boxes are done. Are you ready for the really, really, really heavy furniture that I have? Is this eye candy giving you strength?”.

”Do I have a fucking choice?” Linqian groaned, doubled over in front of the van with her hands on her knees. She still had enough energy to keep her skin cool enough to not sweat, and tilt her head up towards Aryin with a teasing leer. Her eyes went up, then down, Aryin. ”Oh yeah, it's the only thing keeping me fucking going… and that beer at the end. Fuck! I need to develop some strength spells.” Linqian forced herself up and into the van. ”Let's get this shit over with.”

”Good,” Aryin said as she turned back around. She grabbed the heaviest piece of furniture, the long and solid wood dresser, and picked it up all by herself and began to carry it as her muscles began to glow. ”Be a doll and grab the mirror for this. So you can watch yourself be weak in real time. Bitch.” Aryin laughed as they navigated the staircase terribly. While she could carry it alone, it was more difficult to make the turns without someone as a guide. Eventually she figured it out after her one brain cell figured out the geometry and she made her way to the room. She placed it down on the wall opposite the bed. ”I think I made a mistake.”

”If I find out you dented the wall at all on the way up you're fucking paying for it,” Linqian said, coming in behind her and putting down the mirror. She was panting heavily, and honestly, felt a bit like she was dying. She wasn't exactly unfit - years of working on her feet saw to that - but she wasn't healthy thanks to constantly sacrificing her own meals and sleep. ”Fuck, you ain't bringing these to the place Greyson’s getting, are you? It'll probably have all the shit we need… if I gotta move this all back here after we deal with that bastard I might just end it all.”

”No, I’m going to have to serve you a beer in this,” Aryin said as she chuckled as she walked over to Linqian, placing a hand on her cheek, ” It’s giving major ‘ruin our friendship’ vibes and I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about us,” Aryin tilted her head while shaking it no. ”I would not do that to you, what’s here will stay here. At most my cosplay and art stuff will travel. How about another wager,” Aryin joked as she pulled her hands onto her hips. ”I’ll treat you to beer all night in this cosplay if you can beat me back with one of the paintings in the front seat of the car.”

”You wish you could ruin our fucking friendship,” Linqian laughed breathlessly, punching Aryin in the shoulder. She straightened up and backed towards the door. She needed a boost of strength. Some way to get in and out before Aryin. She looked at Aryin, and smiled. It was a sad smile. One that said that maybe, the lengths she was going to go to would be what ruined their friendship. ”I’m sorry, Aryin.”

With a burst of energy, Linqian ran down the stairs and out the door. She slammed the door and locked it from the outside. It was an old house - a bolt lock only, with no way out without a key… and Linqian hadn't given Aryin hers yet.

Aryin was aghast. She had no intention of letting Linqian win, but it seemed Linqian did not intend to lose. ”You crafty bitch,” Aryin shouted as she pounded on the door. Aryin continued to pound on the door as she mentally prepared for a night in cosplay, serving beers to Linqian.

Linqian just grinned, waving to Aryin through the tiny window in the door. She leisurely made her wave over to the van, grabbed a painting, and walked back. She unlocked the door, ducked passed Aryin before she could grab her, and ran up the stairs. ”I can’t wait to watch you in that outfit all night! Oh, maybe I’ll send some photos to the coven!”

”Send the photos to the coven you coward,” Aryin hissed back, ” they’ll be blessed to see my cosplay, Aryin smirked, ”I look hot.”. Aryin paused as she followed Linqian upwards to see which painting and checked which painting she grabbed. When she saw it she tapped Linqian on the shoulder. ” Could we put that one in the living room? The other one is the bedroom portal, that’s the common area one.”

”Bedroom portal like for all your fuck buddies?” Linqian asked, pivoting and going back down the stairs with the painting. She went down the hall and turned into the second door on the left, putting it down in there. ”Put it wherever the fuck you want, I haven’t had the chance to decorate yet.”

The living room was pretty bare when it came to decorations. There was a small television with an older console hooked up to it at the other side of the room, with a three person couch and armchair facing it. Along the wall to their left were shelves and cupboards, with various books and a couple of photo frames. In the corner was a smaller one - the shrine for Jinhai along with her parents. It was where the most effort had gone in. She hadn’t had time to do the rest.

”It’s a quick way for us to get around the city. If I’d rather not walk I’ll call up Alex and they’ll take me through the art dimension,” Aryin said as she leaned it on the couch. Aryin saw the shrine in the corner and she looked at Jinhai’s photo. ”How about I finish off the stuff in the van, you get comfy, and I’ll go grab some beers on the way home from the U-Haul store. Unless you want to come?

”Nah, I’ll stay here, tidy up some of my brother’s crap,” Linqian said, gesturing to the various clothes strewn across the living room. ”You gonna go in cosplay?”

”You fucking know it.”

---

Aryin began to walk into the living room with a beer in one hand and her cosplay knife in the other. As she walked, she twirled the cosplay knife around a finger like a fidget toy. She took her time as she crossed the room, before she reached Linqian. She put both of her feet together and began to bend over stretching out the drink with her hand.

Linqian lay across the couch, recovering from all the carrying. She had one hand over her forehead, breathing still pretty heavy. Outside of the dramatic posture she didn’t look like she’d been exerting herself. She looked up at Aryin with a smirk, tilting her head as she reached up for the beer. ”Fuck, I could get used to this service.”

Midway through her sentence, the door creaked open. ”Jieeee, I’m home- what the fuck is going on?! Did- Did I walk into something I shouldn’t have?! Oh my god, Jie, you look awful, is it because-”

”Shut the fuck up.”

”No, not what you think,” Aryin paused as she let Linqian take the beer, ” your sister and I were just discussing the fact that she is weak, your bloodline is weak, and neither of you will survive the winter without me, Aryin shot a wicked side eye towards Henri, ”I lost a bet and have to serve your sister in cosplay all night. You arrived just in time to not help with the move. Fancy that, how was training?”

”I’ve survived twenty six winters without you, bitch,” Linqian rolled her eyes, making a kicking motion towards Aryin before taking a long drink of her beer.

”Riiighhhht,” Henri looked between them, before laughing. ”Hey, I had this training organised from before I knew you were moving in! But it was great, I can really increase my strength by absorbing sound now. It’s super cool! But I would’ve helped out if I hadn’t already told Greyson I was gonna work on my magic today, y’know, he can be real fucking scary when I try get outta that shit! Oh, Jie, what’s for dinner? I’m starving.”

Linqian just looked at Aryin, will to live leaving her.

Aryin looked at Linqian with excitement in their eyes. Finally, some of Linqian’s great cooking. Aryin would be remiss if she didn’t admit that she was looking forward to this dinner since Linqian invited her to move in. Then Aryin saw the pained look in her eyes.

”Pizza?

”Yes please,” Linqian groaned. Much as she was normally all for cooking, she didn’t want to get up right now. She was fucking hungry too, and making anything would take a while… much as she knew Aryin well enough to recognise that look. Her cooking was fucking amazing, but she’d have to wait till tomorrow to get blown away. ”Moving in treat or whatever, it’s on me. Back to regular scheduled cooked meals tomorrow.”

”I’ve been having pizza all the time at Greyson’s, it’s hardly a treat now!” Henri pouted, going over to sit on the arm of the couch.

”Too fucking bad, Yi-er, learn to cook if it’s a problem.”

”It’s not, it’s not- I’ll even do the order! I’ll pay for it!”

”With my money?”

”No! Greyson’s, he’s been giving me like… well he keep just fucking handing me these massive stacks when I ask for some to buy pizza at his!”

Linqian closed her eyes, and turned her head away, as if to just not see him or think about that. For fuck’s sake… it was just one thing after another.

”How about it’s our treat, Linqian, after all Henri here had a really, really busy day with training,” Aryin paused as she walked towards Henri, ”say, does he have the same lux as you?”

”Sure, whatever… and yeah, that’s kinda how that shit works, idiot,” Linqian said, turning to look back over at Aryin.

”Yeah, I’m Red-Green!” Henri said proudly, puffing up his chest. ”I kindled recently, but one day I wanna be as strong as my siblings!”

”Good. Do you know what is important for us Red-Green Adepts?”

”Uh…” Henri tilted his head, looking a little confused. ”No?”

”A strong body. If your body is weak, like your sisters, your magic will immediately be weak as well. Do you want to be stronger than your sister, Henri? You ready for your second round of training today, Henri?“. Aryin closed the distance and tapped him on the shoulder with one hand. Aryin looked down on Henri with an intense stare that showed she was serious. Was it the fact that she was forced to wear this cosplay and service Linqian all night that drove this rage? Or was it the initial reaction to a simple decision on food? Did it matter? ”Shall we begin?”. Henri would earn his dinner tonight.

”Bitch, you don’t need to keep shit talking me,” Linqian rolled her eyes.

Henri immediately jumped up and straightened his back, bringing him to his full height of just over six foot where he normally looked shorter thanks to sloucher. ”I’m ready! I was always ready! We can begin whenever you want to, whatever you want!” He was overly enthusiastic and seemed entirely unbothered by how intensely Aryin was looking at him, at least, still brightly grinning.

”Good.”

---

An hour later there was a knock at the door. Pizza was here, and Aryin could smell it. Aryin, however, was busy training Henri. She had been having him do push ups, squats, and pull ups off her arm and now they were doing unlimited pushups until one of them failed. ” Strong body, strong magic. There is a reason for this Henri, I promise you. Just fifty more and you can stop and get the food.”

”Ok, no problem!” Henri was taking to the intense exercise pretty well. Sure, he was sweating, face more red-brown from the exertion. His curls were an absolute mess, but he was still going at the pull ups. He hadn't even absorbed much sound to help with his strength. It was like he was getting through it by sheer positive will alone. ”I understand why, don't worry!”

Aryin counted each one until fifty were achieved. ”You did it! Good work, I spent many years in the gym getting stronger after the snake. Got pretty good at boxing as well, which made the application of my magic easier.”. Aryin paused as she walked towards the door, opening it, before remembering she was still in cosplay. She quickly grabbed the food, gave the man a tip, and closed the door behind her. She walked the food over to the table.

”I need to get out of cosplay, I think that delivery driver just fell in love with me,” Aryin smiled towards Linqian. Aryin couldn’t wait to bring this cosplay out at the next con in Portland or Vancouver.

”Course he did, you look fucking hot,” Linqian commented. She also got up, stretching her arms above her head. ”I’m gonna get changed into comfy clothes too, take my contacts out and shit… I've been wearing them too often. Overnight use is really fucking with my eyes.”

”I think you look great too, Aryin!” Henri shouted, getting up off the ground. ”Lemme take a quick shower, then we can eat! I'll put the pizza in the oven so it stays warm!”

”Can I change.” Aryin quickly turned towards Linqian, and held her hands up together like she was praying. ”I could use my comfort clothes.”

Linqian narrowed her eyes, as if she was thinking long and hard about it. ”I suppose… it's only fair. Just no comments about the fact I have to wear fucking glasses.”

Aryin sighed in relief, helped put the food in the oven, before taking off upstairs to get changed. She emerged fifteen minutes later, dressed in simple red and beige sleep shorts and a massively oversized t-shirt. Her hair was now in a ponytail behind her head, and she was ready to enjoy some tasty pizza and enjoy her first night in the new place. Aryin smiled as she sat down at the table. One of the additional perks of having unlimited stamina was how little she sweat even with an intense workout. She was still going to take a shower before she laid down for bed, but she was glad she didn’t have to fight for the shower on the first day.

Aryin stood up and grabbed three cold beers from the fridge, placing them at each spot. She then grabbed three plates, and three sets of napkins and made the table. Finally, she grabbed the spicy honey and bird seed flakes she brought and placed them in the middle of the table before sitting back
down.

A text message from Jordan popped up. It was a simple message, and it was just him wishing her luck with the move. Aryin would’ve expected the text in the morning but she was not one to judge when someone remembered to send a text. He sent a picture a second later. It was him with Cyrus, and was captioned ‘welcome to the true collective’ and Aryin could only react with the heart emoji while chuckling. She sent a text a moment later saying ‘tell him to not be a dick now’.

”Hurry up, I’m hungry,” Aryin shouted as she got another text from Jordan. It was another photo, this time with Alex, with a message reading ‘we don’t think that’s possible. You coming to 317 tonight? Alex is taking off and I’ll be stuck with Doom again,’ and Aryin simply responded ‘nah, moving day blues and what not. I’ll be by in the morning though’.

”Fucking calm down!” There were thudding footsteps before Linqian emerged. She was dressed in a slightly oversized hoodie and leggings, giving Aryin a tired look from behind gold framed glasses. Generally, she didn’t wear her glasses around anyone that wasn’t family… but Aryin had moved in, so she was as fucking close to it anyway. Her hair was pulled back into a looser bun than normal, a few coils falling across her face. ”Some of us can’t just fucking pull our hair back and be done with it, I washed it today, so it’d fucking ruin the hard work I did. Fucking straight hair privilege, you bitch.”

But even after saying all that she moved over to Aryin, hugging her from behind for a moment. It was a show of appreciation for setting the table. She then sat down. ”Let’s start without-”

”Jiieeee you’d start without me?!” Henri bounded in with a mock gasp. While he’d changed clothes, there was minimal actual difference - a tshirt of a different color and jeans. ”Whoa, you set shit up all fancily! Nice!”

”Thank Aryin,” Linqian waved her hand as he sat down. She then raised her beer. ”Here’s to a good fucking time living together.”

”Yeah don’t mention it. Figured I’d do my part,” Aryin paused as her phone vibrated once again on the table. ”Here’s to the start of a great future,” Aryin paused as she raised her beer with a smile, before she blew a kiss towards Linqian. Her phone vibrated once again. Aryin quickly checked the messages, another one from Jordan with Octavia, and one from Alex half into the art portal.

Linqian pretended to catch the kiss and threw it away, laughing. ”Dig in. Fuck, I need this food.”

”Yeah you do, Jie, you need to eat more! Now that you got that better job you better start looking after yourself!” Henri started as he grabbed a piece of pizza and started munching on it. ”Like Aryin said, strong body strong magic - Greyson goes on about it all the time. If you don’t eat how’re you meant to get better at magic?”

”Are you seriously lecturing me over all the shit I did to raise you? Ungrateful piece of shit.“

”I’d say let’s make him do more pushups but that would be rewarding this behavior,” Aryin smirked as she grabbed two slices.

”Yeah, pushups are quite fun, honestly! Y’know that was basically just a second workout, I did all that earlier today too,” Henri grinned, already on his second slice. ”I’m also still keeping up with my studies to go back to college next year! So don’t worry too much about me.”

”I’m not,” Linqian rolled her eyes, though she very much was. She reached over to ruffle her brother’s hair. ”Just don’t get too cocky, that kinda shit’ll fuck you over. And don’t start acting like Greyson, he’s nice around you but he can be a real piece of shit. If you gotta have a guy to idolise, idolise Aaron.”

“Awww thank you,” Aaron said as he took a quick bite of his pizza. “I have never been told that I should be idolized but I might get used to it,” Aaron chuckled, “as long as you are aware of who Greyson is, and can do, you should be fine. You have a good head on your shoulders like your sister so make sure you use it,” Aaron took another bite of his pizza as he looked to Linqian and smiled.

”Sometimes I gotta be nice, make you feel like you’re some kinda shit before I drag you back down,” Linqian said, though she grinned back at him. She remembered back in the day when a lot of people thought they hated each other - though Linqian was a bit easier on Aaron. Really, it was just how she showed she fucking cared.

”Don’t worry, I know exactly what he’s like! He literally went inside my head and told me his evil plan to fuck over Jie, but he’s like… tryna not to that!” Henri said far too cheerfully. While he definitely looked up to Greyson, it wasn’t quite like Linqian thought… It was how he could protect his loved ones. That’s what Henri aspired towards. And he did believe he was going to try. ”He can’t lie in there. But I already think you’re pretty cool too!”

“I appreciate it. Both of you. Truly,” Aaron smirked as he shifted his eyes towards Linqian, “thank you. We both know I have an ego that, if unchecked, will grow quite problematically and I thank your bitch ass nature for keeping me grounded,” Aaron smirked even deeper as he took a big bite of his food.

”Yeah what the fuck would you do without me, huh?” Linqian laughed, finishing off her first slice finally and going for another.

Henri practically shoved a whole slice in his mouth before talking more. ”Thank you for being Jie’s friend all this time! Y’know she really doesn’t have many- mph!”

Linqian cut him off by shoving another piece of pizza in his mouth. ”Any of that kinda shit my brother spills stays here, alright?”

“Oh I knew that,” Aaron joked, “once you’ve met the best friend ever no one else can live up.”

”Oh shut uppp,” Linqian jokingly groaned, slapping Aaron on the shoulder. ”See? Insufferable.”

Henri smiled. ”It… kinda reminds me of how you used to bicker with Ge. Normally you properly snap at other people.”

”C’mon,” Linqian glanced at Henri, before looking away, smile wavering a bit. ”We’re not getting all sentimental over our pizza.”

“We’ve had our ups and downs,” Aaron smiled at being compared to someone as impactful as their brother, “but we always find a way back to each other,” Aaron smiled as he looked off to the distance. “Emotional stuff is par for the course right now. I got drunk with Jack last night and we were both weeping by the end. Most emotions I’ve seen from him I think ever.”

”Jack crying? Fuck, alcohol sure does work wonders,” Linqian said. She did know exactly that… she’d only properly cried over Jinhai when drunk, or hit by a shit hallucination. ”Doesn’t make me enjoying talking about that shit more than I have to. Was bad enough I had to talk to Sloane of all people about the funeral today… shit, I barely got emotional, but it was like even mentioning Jinhai was emotional.”

“I put on my brave face a lot but you know me,” Aaron paused as he swapped back and forth several times between his forms before stopping on Aaron, “I still wear my emotions on my sleeve,” Aaron paused as he looked back to Linqian.

“How about I take you to a rage room tomorrow. No stress, no talking, just two pals destroying stuff to try and feel better.”

Linqian considered it. It did sound… nice. It was the kind of way she could deal with this shit. Not talking, not getting emotional, just destroying stuff. ”Can we print out pictures of annoying coven members and put them over the shit we’re destroying?”

“Uh, of course. Is there any other way we worlds do that,” Aaron paused as he smirked, “I have a printer at my flat that I forgot, or we can stop by the UPS store and pay someone to do it for us. Bring extra for the worst offenders.”

”Greyson’s gotta printer we can use, Yi-er has access to it,” Linqian said, not really wanting to pay for that shit if she could avoid it. Anyway, he had his fucking murder wall so he shouldn’t have a problem with them printing off a bunch of pictures of coven members to beat up. ”Loads of fucking Sloane and Anya then- and Lynn. Fucking assholes.”

”Oh yeah, I can use the printer! Dunno if we can get into the office though,” Henri said cheerfully.

“I think if we ask for forgiveness, rather than permission, he won’t get upset. Let’s get a good night's sleep right, and then tomorrow we can figure out a thing or two about getting those pictures printed.”

”I don’t give a fuck if he gets upset or not anyway, fucker owes me for not breaking his fucking nose yesterday,” Linqian said, before nodding. ”Let’s finish up this pizza then we can watch shitty movies till we’re tired.”

”Oh, I’m going back out! I promised Louis I’d keep him company while he worked…” Henri rubbed the back of his neck.

Aaron looked at Linqian after Henri finished his statement. Was he like this at Henri’s age? Always one event after the other, and constantly having late nights. Aaron shook his head as he looked at his good food before taking another bite. Looking back at Linqian Aaron smiled. “Scary movie or twilight, bitch.”

Linqian grinned. ”Twilight, of course.”

---

An hour or so later, they were deep into the start of what was looking to be a Twilight marathon. Linqian hated the movies - but it was the kind of hate that made the movies fun to hate watch. There was entertainment, unlike horror movies that just ended up boring after fighting the Stygian Snake.

”I’m surprised there weren’t more green luxers walking around pretending to be fucking vampires back when we were teens,” she commented, finishing off her fourth beer. Since she’d actually eaten for once, it wasn’t doing much for her yet. - thank fuck.

Aaron knocked back his third beer. His liver was a little worn after the past two nights of drinking but he was still in a good spot. “Honestly yeah, why weren’t we doing that? I mean you would look fantastic with that glittery skin, and fangs! You would look amazing with fangs,” Aaron paused as he looked back at the TV, “I did want to look like Alice as a kid. I don’t know about that anymore.”

”You think so? Maybe I should develop a spell for that… imagine the shit I could bite through with super hot fangs?” Linqian laughed, grinning with very normal teeth. ”Hey, you could still fucking cosplay her or something? What’s stopping you.”

Aryin pulled up a phone album called ‘my cosplays’ and passed a specific photo to Linqian. It was Aryin in an Alice cosplay with one of the worst, most unkempt, most basic, wigs in existence. “I did! Though I’ve done it much better since, you don’t grow up in this area without wanting to do a twilight cosplay.”

Linqian raised an eyebrow, looking at it before passing it back. ”Well you gotta do a new improved version or some shit. Fuck, maybe we can get a stupid fucking group together. I know it ain’t halloween anymore but… could be fun around all the shit we’re dealing with.”

“Dude, yes. Imagine if we got all the cool people together to do that? That would be fun. Who would you want in the group?”

”Fuck… I think I’d make a pretty hot Rosalie. Like, not perfectly accurate, but I’m hot enough to be her,” Linqian laughed. ”Oh, fuck, Brit’s gotta be Bella cause then Greyson can be Edward, he’s kinda creepily obsessed like that. He’s got that same fucking self pitying edgy vibe too sometimes.”

“LEON AS JACOB!”

”Fuck, yes! That’s fucking perfect! I bet we can find a creepy as fuck doll for him to carry around- oh god, that’s fucking perfect.” Linqian held her stomach as she started laughing at the image of Leon, of all people, being dragged into this group. Fuck, it was too good. ”Sully should be Emmett, he’s fucking goofy like him… Shit, is anyone hot enough to be Carlisle?”

“I don't know… We can grab Jordan from the collective to be Carlisle, he’s got that dad energy. I think the better question is who has the mustache to be Charlie?”

“Can I be Jane?” A raspy voice asked from behind them on the wall.

”Stor- What the fuck?!” Linqian jumped up from the couch, spinning around to face the intruder in an immediately defensive posture, temperature rising.

Aaron quickly swapped forms and readied a punch before realizing who it was. ”Alex,” Aryin paused as she tapped Linqian on the shoulder, ”what’s going on? Is-,”

“We’re under attack, you need to get back to the 317,” Alex paused as they took a deep breath, “hi, I’m Alex. Cute place. Hurry up and get in the painting, you're the first one I’m grabbing.”

”By who,” Aryin moved towards the painting.

“Unknown, but Faith said it was an explosion,” Alex responded.

”I got to go Linqian, time to put my skills to the test once more, Aryin held out a hand towards Linqian, ”unless you wanted to help me kick some ass.”

”Bitch, you think I’d let you take all the fucking glory?” Linqian said, slapping her hand into Aryin’s. As if she’d let her best friend just go into unknown danger alone. ”Of course I’m kicking ass with you.”

“Okay, okay, okay you can come,” Alex said as they grabbed Linqian and pulled her into the painting before they did the same to Aryin, “but listen close, do not deviate from the path I take you on. Do not linger. You are a guest in their home, an unwanted ghost. We move, we move fast, and we get you both out as fast as we can. Understand?”

All around Linqian would see a sea of white and emptiness but on closer inspection would see that there were many, many painting frames spattered across the entire landscape. Around the frames would be the contents of the paintings itself. In the nearby area there was a painting of a squad of knights fighting a dragon, and the knights and the dragon were visible and they were staring at Linqian. There was a malicious vibe to the way they looked at her, like they did not appreciate that an outsider was brought to their home.

“This is our path,” Alex pointed to the paved ground beneath them, “let’s go.” Alex took off in a sprint.

”Go,” Aryin took off after Alex, ”what kind of explosion?”

“Unknown,” Alex responded as they waved the two on faster, “but big enough that Faith knew that we were under attack.”

”Fucking… 317, right? That’s what’s under attack?” Linqian asked as she picked up the pace, trying to ignore the fucking creepiness of the place. It was… nicer than Jack teleporting, kinda. ”So we have no idea what the fuck we’re walking into?”

“Yup, home base too,” Alex paused as they looked back at Aryin, “all the toys are there too. I have zero idea what to expect, so go in expecting the worst so that way whatever it is seems somewhat tame.”

”Why are the toys on sight,” Aryin asked back.

“Promotion night, Faith and Octavia wanted to show the newbies,” Alex responded.

Linqian had no idea what they meant by that, and she couldn’t be bothered to ask. ”Well, whatever, I’ll punch anything thrown my way.”

The trip ran for another minute before Alex pointed ahead towards a rectangular painting that showed the basement of the 317. “There, that’s the portal out. I’ll be back with the others as soon as I can,” Alex paused as they stopped, watching Aryin and Linqian run past them.

“Good luck.”

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

---

Kenshiro Murakin

The House on the Hill > Gas Station > Luca’s Apartment

---

Luca was quick to make his way out of the building when the fire alarm went off - the last thing he wanted was to be caught in something like that again, and force someone to help him out. It was a false alarm but… he was glad he didn’t take the risk. It looked like the meeting was over, anyway. They hadn’t really gotten anywhere… besides Lila’s good plan of sub-groups.

”Ken, do you want to come back to mine again? So we can discuss everything more? What about you, Clanc-” He realised midway through what he was saying that Clancy had disappeared… towards Britney, it seemed. Luca gave him a wave to indicate he could come back over when he was done, then looked up at Ken with a smile, before finding Jasper, Lila and Lynn in the crowd and gesturing them over.

Ken found himself torn between calling Jack back through the Eleventh Gate and spending the night around people who were… Well, enthusiastic about his companionship at least. Another night of drinking with Lynn and watching poor Luca cough and moan? When he was in such a wretched mood himself, it only seemed right to punish Jack with his presence…

But they wanted him around. And Jasper always had something good to say, so he was a genuinely welcome presence among the air of otherwise hopeful despair. He took a moment to let Jack know that he was going with them, and with what little enthusiasm he had left, he put on a smile for the others.
"Well, am I our transportation for the evening?” he asked the group with a smile, anticipating the alcohol at the end of the rainbow would dull the headache of having to scoop so many others up at once.

”Well Jasper drove us here, but there's not enough room for all of- oh,” Luca paused as Lynn said she was going to meet with Bianca and would be home later… alright. As long as she was safe! But Bianca was nice and a federal agent so she probably wouldn't let Lynn get hurt or anything. ”Well, I guess there is, even if Clancy comes with us since he can get close to me without worry… but it's still probably better for Jasper's car if I go with you? One of the seats in the back is looking worse for wear… so I'd really appreciate that, Ken! At least our fridge is properly stocked with food and beer and that… I think. Jasper, Lila, you didn't drink all of it when you got back last night, did you?”

“No,” Jasper sighed, “but Lynn was feeling the alcohol last night so I will stop on the way back! Am I cooking again,” Jasper smirked as he looked over to Lila and then Luca.

“What,” Lila said as she held up her talons before she pointed to Luca, “Do you think we’d be the best cooks for this party,” Lila smirked as she looked over to Ken and lost her breath for a moment, “what about you Ken? Can you cook ,” Lila asked with a smile.

It was easy to make Ken bashful. Lila had seen him cook plenty while he lived with Kari, and he took the compliment to heart.
"Can I cook- They expect farmers to cook! And I will simply cradle you in the seat, Luca. One is far easier than five.” he gave Luca a telekinetic pat on the shoulder.
"After we’ve arrived, I will return to my boat! I have special ingredients, and some utilities which will prove indispensable in the process of preparing the balls.” he beamed like the daytime sun, happy to talk about food.

“The balls,” Lila asked with a hushed voice as she tilted her head in confusion.

”B- Balls?” Luca's eyes went wide as he looked at Ken, then very subtly at Jasper, then at Ken again.

"Takoyakiiiiiii…-” Ken tilted his head back slightly, neck craning as he mimicked the sarcastic motion Kari would often do when he was being odd or foolish. "-What did you think I meant!? There’s just uh… Well, I have this cephalopod in my freezer unit and when I grilled it, it tasted delicious. So I figured making fried balls would suit it as well! But, I don’t have a word for it so it’s ‘random meat-yaki’. Hence, ]The balls.”

“That makes so much more sense,” Lila chuckled, her wings flapped in an amused way.

”Oh thank god, that does sound real nice Ken, but I was worried there…” Luca laughed, wiping non existent sweat from his brow. He then looked at Lila with a grin. ”I thought you were coming for mine!”

Clancy returned midway through the conversation from around a corner, only briefly stopping to pause in trying to figure out the context of people coming for the bird-girl’s balls. Whatever. It wasn’t the strangest thing any of them would have heard tonight, least of all him.

Whereas he’d been a little underdressed before, courtesy of the unseen assault on his person, he was now wearing a musty leather jacket, speckled with white patches that betrayed the presence of mold. For his part, the boy seemed unperturbed by this fact, and more satisfied that he was somewhat presentable, even if that meant rolling up his sleeves.

”Hey!” Luca turned to Clancy with a bright grin when he reappeared. Like Clancy, he was completely unbothered by the mold - also a frequent presence in his life. ”That’s all of us, if we're good to go- oh, assuming you wanted to stick with us? We were going to go back to my flat and… discuss things, I guess?”

”Uh.. sure.” The boy answered with a reserved expression, ”Just warn me if you see a dark woman in a trenchcoat on the way out.” he gave it consideration, then added, ”And run.”

Fortunately for them, no such woman was outside, or anywhere in sight.

“I think I saw her, at least my crows did. I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

The boy bristled at the answer, fingers tightening into a balled fist, releasing, then starting the cycle over again.

”If she shows up, don't waste your time with her. Just get out, she’s stronger than she looks.”

He looked over at Lila and gave her a once-over. ”Thanks… Lila. Right?” Names were still something he struggled with. Too many faces, too much time on the road. But he'd try, at least for now.

Luca nodded with a smile, glad that Clancy and Lila were getting along well enough! Not that he knew Clancy well at all but he felt a connection with the boy.

”We’ll all avoid her if we see her, right? But… let's get going! With Ken we can all fit in Jasper's car without me destroying anything…” He laughed awkwardly, but still grinned brightly.

”Quite the entrance to make, Clancy. Just another notch in the belt of insanity our Coven has decided to wear to the meeting…” Ken commented offhandedly.
”But you're unalone now. We will crush the woman in black together.”

“Yeah, we’re not useless in a fight. Jasper can paint magic guns now so we’re safe.”

”Oh yeah, it's been great for fighting all the bees!” Luca said, pressing his lips together in frustration. He still couldn't talk about the skeleton… which was annoying. But fine. He wasn't going to let it ruin time spent with friends, not after that meeting either. ”Ken’s right. If we stick together hopefully she won't approach you again. You're welcome to stick with us as long as you want.”

”I'll think about it, I guess.” Clancy truly was ruminating over the idea. A few issues complicated the matter, however. ”You don't owe me anything. Didn't have to help before, but… thanks.”.

”It’s not about owing it's just… helping a friend! But no pressure, we've got our setup for safety anyway,” he gestured to himself, Jasper and Lila. Then, which far more energy than someone who'd been hurt so many times that day, he started ushering them all away from the old mansion… without actually getting close.

”Lets go!”

---

This is home for you?” Clancy had asked as they passed through another row of close-knit blocks.

”Yeah! It's not that bad once you get used to it,” Luca shrugged. His words were a bit muffled, cradled and bubbled as he was by Ken's magic. ”I have a large place, and the landlord doesn't care how damaged it gets! Pretty perfect, honestly. Everyone minds their business too.”

”I remain unconvinced that you and your fellow tenants haven't simply decided to squat in that place. Or that the landlord isn't an exceedingly old individual… Not that I find anything wrong with either prospect, only that having such a nonchalant individual in charge of property maintenance bodes poorly for the investment's longevity…”
Sometimes, little pearls of simple wisdom fell from Kenshiro's mouth without him even stopping to think about them.

The topic had made Clancy bristle, ”Lots of landlords who are also assholes out there, I think.” Eventually, he shrugged, ”Seen worse though. At least nobody's shooting up on the corners here.”

”Hey, Ken, I pay my rent on time to an alright, middle aged man who doesn't really care about maintaining the place so much as he does getting my money,” Luca shrugged, seeming entirely unbothered by a landlord who to most people would be an asshole. He just had special needs… namely a place already in disrepair.
”Technically it's just my place… the other three are temporary residents. But Clancy’s right, could be worse!”

”Shooting up? Like, down in Los Angeles with the gangs and such? Dreadful business…” Ken frowned, shaking his head. ”You’re right. And if there were gangs, we would set them straight!”

”I don't know about LA, I never went this far west before I heard about Ashley… but back where I came from a lot of places had their bad side showing. Chicago, Flint, Cleveland… Detroit never got better.”

They had slowed at the next intersection. Just down the road was a gas station, an unusual shining beacon in an otherwise unremarkable block of apartments, permanently closed storefronts and laundromats.

“I keep forgetting I’ve been been a taxi lately,” Jasper said as his car beeped, and a status flashed across the dash saying Refill now - 50 miles until empty, “I’ll grab some gas real quick,” Jasper says as he pointed towards the gas station.

Pulling in, the only other car present was a silver-olive minivan of the late-noughts with a visible crack in the rear passenger window and a gouge in the paintwork below it. The car stood idle, both front seats occupied.

The driver was a thirty something with a beanie cap and a close-cropped beard, head bobbing to the faint thrums of some colourful music
leaked through to the outside. His companion, by contrast, was clean-shaven with a crew cut, but the lack of movement or interaction with the driver betrayed something off about the man.

The only sign he was alive was the occasional rotation of the head in a fourty-five degree angle, not unlike a camera on a swivel mount. A hollow, glassy eyed expression peered back at anyone who watched.

No attendant came out to greet them.

”Why don't we get snacks while we're here?” Luca suggested, carefully opening the car door and rolling out. He couldn't actually go into the gas station shop, even as rundown as it was, but it was nicer to be out of the car for a while… plus he couldn't see Jasper refilling the car so well from inside… ”I'll take basically anything!”

As he talked he looked over at the idle car, catching that glassy eyed stare and responding with a polite smile.

That seemed to yield no acknowledgement, either.

Ken, still dressed in full kit in the passenger seat of Jasper's car, did his best to slip out of his vest full of equipment without disturbing it too much. Too bad the massive sword he kept with him practically blocked all normal movement.
”Gah, fuck…-”

Popping the door open, he slid out from under the sword and was now standing in the parking lot like a modern ninja. His headband hung from his waist like a belt, and his black on black jumpsuit was still tightened to his body with padding. Unzipping the top, he slipped out and wrapped it around his waist by the arms like a mechanic.

His white tank top was dark with his sweat, muscles rippling as he stretched out for a moment.
”I will get us sodas, Luca! I crave corn syrup and red dye.” he said enthusiastically.
Moving to his vest, he popped a section open and pulled out a crisp twenty.
”You said snacks too? Chips? Or, something sweet?”

Lila could not even think of anything to say as her eyes remained on Ken’s form. Her eyes went black and her vision enhanced to get an even closer look.

“A mix of savoury and sweet if you could,” Jasper said as he began to fuel up the car.

”Chips and some chocolate!” Luca said cheerfully, going from a wide eyed stare at Ken to a wide eyed stare at Jasper, cheeks heating up a bit.

While Ken and Jasper stepped towards the station, Clancy had a wary eye on the van, his reserved expression betraying little else.

“Everything okay, Clancy?” Lila stayed behind due to her current bird form. It wasn’t as bad as its been but she still felt weird going out in public like this.

That made him tilt his head in her direction by a few degrees, offering a half-shrug, ”Just watching.” Truthfully, he was feeling a little more exposed than usual in light of recent events. Something about the two in the car rubbed him the wrong way.

Maybe the music. Although he couldn’t figure it out yet.

As Ken left to enter the station, a third man was stood by the counter, a squat twenty something with a green Oregon Ducks cap and a pair of aviators obscuring the top half of his face. He wasn’t in uniform; far from it, he was wearing and a khaki coat with what looked like oil stains smeared across their surreptitiously rolled-up sleeve.

Naturally observant due to his training, as Ken stepped into the shop he made a full three-sixty rotation in a slow and organized manner. His ankles smoothly rotated him mid stride as he got a good look at the place.

The store itself seemed no different from any other, save that it was perhaps due for another mopping. A reheated food stand stood with the lights on, but no products out. A shelf at the far side seemed somewhat disordered as though someone had knocked it over and made a half-assed effort to prop it back up, but otherwise all seemed business as usual for this side of town. Some generic radio station hit played from the overhead speakers, a sing-songy optimist’s track which contrasted against the vulgar, guttural politik-metal screeching that had been leaking out of the minivan,

The only other thing that seemed out of order were the surveillance feeds to the late 00s screens overhead the counter. For whatever reason, they were presenting a generic, bluelight NO SIGNAL error.

”You buying’ something or not?” The clerk asked, somewhat impatiently.

”No, I thought I'd just ruin your peace of mind.”
As Ken made his sarcastic response, he was already at the drink cooler pulling out glass bottles filled with tasty, sugary soda. For a moment, he let them hover in the air as he removed their weight, then quickly gathered them again to prevent any Blind confusion. Moving to the counter, Ken placed the sodas down and smiled.

”Can you ring and bag those while I get the other stuff?” he asked out of courtesy. His back instantly turned to make way for the snacks.

“.. paid enough to be some fuckin’ errand boy..” The clerk muttered the statement beneath their breath, roughly shoving the drinks over to the exit area with a bag haphazardly left beside it.

The driver of the minivan had stopped appearing so animate in the time that had elapsed since then, although the music still seeped from the van in grinding pulses. His attention was now on Jasper, finishing off the pump and heading towards the station. He uttered a few words, although it was muted by the windshield between them.

“Filled up,” Jasper said as he could sense the discomfort of the group. He opened up the truck and grabbed a canvas as he walked in to pay for the snacks and food. He began to paint his knight.

“That your car?” Suddenly, the clerk's attention was on Jasper, knuckles impatiently rapping on the counter.

Jasper continued painting, but looked up long enough to see that the man was talking to him. Jasper looked towards Ken, before his eyes drifted back to the man. “It is. Why do you ask,” Jasper asked as he finished his painting.

“Because,” he grunted, a hand snapping into a coat pocket, “You're gonna hand over the key."

A split second later and he'd withdrawn a snubnose revolver, keeping it level with Jasper’s midsection. "Slowly. Hands where I can see 'em."

“B-A, one more near you!" the clerk hollered to the back of the store, and the storeroom burst open, another two men in similarly obscured garb emerging. “Keep an eye on the chinaman, any shit you send ‘em to buddha.”

Moments later, the storeroom burst open, another pair of similarly garbed men emerging with weapons at the ready. One was carrying a pistol, the other a cut-down shotgun.

Still standing at the counter, Ken’s brow furrowed as he looked back and forth between the scattered group.
”Keys? To the car? For what?”
He was holding onto the parcel of snacks trying his best to put them down onto the counter. Producing the twenty from his pocket, he still looked confused, totally missing the fact that they bothered at all to call him a Chinaman.

“Ken, he’s trying to rob me. Say, are you guys into the paranormal? Have you guys seen something that there’s no logical explanation for? Like,” Jasper paused as he pulled the knight from the canvas and the knight emerged between Jasper and the guns, “did anything change here?”. Jasper raised his hands up all the same
“Shut the fuck up and pass meEFUCK!” Startled, the clerk reflexively squeezed off a round in the direction of Jasper and his knight, “-it’s the forest fucks!”

The Knight simply took the bullets without effect, swung his sword and slapped the gun out of the man's grasp, tthen pressed forward, grabbing him by the throat and raising him up, blade pressed to his throat as he kicked away in a panic. “Can we have a talk about manners? Drop the guns, kick them over to me, and let’s talk.” Jasper asked as he continued to stay behind the knight but kept the armoured homonculus in between him and the guns.

“You know who you're fucking with, cocksucker?!” Shotgun had his 12-gauge pointed at the knight, while his pistol-wielding companion had sights on Kenshiro

”This isn’t how I imagined getting my soda today… Was it something I said?”
Ken let go of the snack bags, having removed their weight, and let them hang there in the open for a moment. His hand gently bumped them as he spun, and as they got close to the man with the shotgun, the chip bags exploded into fantastically salty confetti. The snacks flew toward the man’s eyes, and Kenshiro expected panic as the bags popped.

“Fucking greEARGH!” A panicked burst of buckshot was loosened by ‘Shotgun’, while his companion with the pistol had already skidded to the floor, firing off a round in the air in the confusion.

Kenshiro was already channeling his Mage Hand to block a barrage of bullets, pocketing and pressurizing big sections of air between himself and the gun wielding threat behind him. Even if the target missed, he was already swinging his fist toward the rapidly stacking layers of airbags. The second they burst, whether a bullet or his fist, a gust of air like a burst-cannon would be plenty to send a normal man flying.

From the car, it hadn’t been immediately obvious there were armed men. The pop of gunfire and the splintering storefront window immediately dispelled them of that notion. Clancy, whom had neglected to make use of the seatbelt, had clambered over to the door, squeezing past Luca’s personal space to climb out.

While he made a beeline for the storefront, his focus on the situation at hand had temporarily pulled his attention from the minivan - which, in a matter of seconds, had gone from stationary to accelerating, the front fender lighting up and slamming into the back of Clancys shoulders and crushing him down into the asphalt as the whole weight of the van came atop him.

Moments later, the passenger door opened and the glassy-eyed stranger stepped out. “A-are you sure that’s the kid?!” The driver asked, in a panicked tone.

Whoever he was asking gave no answer. Instead, the passenger continued towards the storefront, thrusting through the sliding door with their forearm with a pistol clutched in-hand.

A command was issued and the murder obeyed. All around the gas station her crows began to descend in three, black tendril like formations. One tendril quickly descended towards the man running, one towards the open side door to the minivan, and one towards the broken windows of the storefront.

The first to be hit by these attacks was the running man, the tendril simply passed over him and a thousand crows struck out with their claws as they passed by the man’s entire body. The second tendril began to attack the man in the van, they lingered and began to attack the driver’s eyes and throat, eliciting a shriek as he threw his arms up in defense.

The final tendril flooded into the gas station and began to do the same to the men inside. As they descended they too were struck by bullets and several more felled felled by the broken glass and falling debris, and Lila lost dozens in the first wave. The backlash hit her mind immediately and Lila grabbed the sides of her head as she screamed.

The situation was only amplified as the glassy-eyed man seemed to offer no reaction as the crows sunk talons into his flesh, instead reaching out and tightening hard-as-iron fingers around one bird’s neck and crushed it, using their other hand to do the same as if in some berserker-induced trance. The only thing Lila had achieved was to disarm the man, as one bird dislodged it from their grasp.

While the berserker pressed on into the store, they made for the nearest target - Jasper’s knight, mindlessly charging into the armoured golem like a football player.

Everything was suddenly going to shit, and Luca barely had the time to think. He reacted on autopilot, pushed to protect his friends without much thought for himself. He ran toward the beserker as fast as he could, physically shoving into his back in an attempted tackle that ended up more like a weak, but rotting, hug.

Thanks to Luca and his intervention The Knight was alerted to the coming berserker. He simply tossed the man he was holding towards the other men with guns and swung the flat side of the sword towards the berserker's face.

Skin blistered and atrophied as the man was pulled into the corrosive embrace, and at the same time the conjured steel appeared to burst the man's nose and cheek, blood spurting forth, and yet he seemed relentless. Instead, he spun in a sort of death roll with Luca as the two plummeted to the ground.

With crimson fluid seeping from gouged eyes and a broken nose, the man appeared to stare back at Luca with some cold determination, fingers prying for his throat and tightening, even as the skin fissured and rotted, his other features matching in short time.

Luca struggled underneath the man, hands grasping at his wrists and further decaying his flesh. He struggled to breath, though, and didn’t have the strength to push him off even as the decay across his skin intensified.

The man grew skeletal, cheeks hollow, what little hair remained falling away, his clothes in equal measure. Yet, no matter how the others might've tried to pry him away, he held on with a grip hard as iron, depleting weight still pinned atop Luca.

Pinned by the rear pair, who Ken was desperately trying not to simply crush into bloody pools, the usually vicious fighter felt sheepish and hamstrung: The situation was simply too strange for him to come to grips with, and he could only deal with what was in front of him. Hearing Luca’s pain, he decided he wasn’t concerned with the lives of a couple more individuals. The gravity around him plummeted as he channeled the Ten Ton stance, and his foot stomped a fissure through the heavy air that caused the very pressure to snap mundane bones like balsa.
Spinning he turned to face Luca… But saw something more horrifying.

There was a metallic crunch outside, followed by the sound of crunching glass as someone rushed into the storefront. A pair of smaller hands reached over the top of the berserker's head, fingers jamming into either side of their mouth, and wrenched hard, until the connective tissues between upper and lower jaw split, and the man was wrenched away in a visceral display.

Clancy relinquished the now-twitching corpse. He was slightly worse for wear, the back of his head missing a portion of scalp and a nasty roadrash gouged into his already-ragged jacket, but otherwise standing.

Unlike the berseker, beneath whom a pool of blood was slowly forming from where his jaws had been pried apart.

The ‘clerk’ had been knocked unconscioud in the fray, and the other two stick-up men were sprawled on the floor and bleeding, brought down between the efforts of Kenshiro, Jasper and Lila.

The driver, outside the store, had been suspiciously quiet, and the windshield and driver’s side window of the minivan was spattered with blood.

Clancy's cold gaze was set on the other two men at the far side of the store. Pacing past Jasper and Kenshiro, he kicked aside their weapons, peered into the storeroom, out of sight of the others, and scowled as the sight of the actual clerk's body tied to a chair, their face a purple, bloody swollen mess. The tile floor of the backroom had been broken apart with sledgehammers apart to reveal a safe, stacked with unmarked dollar bills and several baggies of powder.

It told a tale that he'd seen countless times over.

The boy stepped back outside, attention back on the main group.

”This was bad. I think they were with those biker assholes-” he moved towards the bloodied shotgun wielder, then crouched and tugged at the collar of his shirt to expose the runic tattoos just beneath his collarbone. ”Nazi assholes. You shouldn't be here. I'll cover our tracks and catch up. Is the car ready?”

”I’ll need… some help… back in the car,” Luca panted, looking over at Ken, holding his throat with one hand. There were slight marks there, red fingermarks and slightly rotted flesh. He’d managed to push himself up to sitting on the ground, but he couldn’t get up further, just looking at the carnage. ”Ken… can you help?”

“Hey, hey take it slow again Luca. Twice in one day, that makes it official you are not doing anything at all at the party. If you need anything I will provide,” Jasper paused as he looked towards the men who had attacked them. A rage built in his heart. Jasper’s Knight took several steps towards them before he raised his sword, and went to bring it down on the men. Jasper pulled his life force back from the construct before it connected and the knight and his sword turned into a falling puddle of paint that coated the men. “Ken, help Luca back to the car. I’ll grab our stuff.”

Scooping Luca into his protective bubble, Ken brought his friend close and slipped his hand against the pressure. It didn’t stop his hand from reaching out to touch Luca, the bubble forming a protective layer around it as Ken smiled and brushed Luca’s hair back a little bit.
”You did good, Luca… Rest; you protected us.”
His comforting voice brought the two of them back toward the vehicle, bubble rocking slowly the whole way.

While the others were occupied with carrying Luca back to the car, Clancy’s attention was on the three men. The clerk was barely conscious, gasping for breath after a close call with the knight, while the other two were in varying states of coherency. One had smashed his head in the scuffle and seemed concussed, the other was half-blind with a twisted leg and broken fingers.

It made no difference, they were disarmed and in no shape to fight. The boy found it easy to drag them into the backroom, one-by-one. One gave a whimpered shriek, the other barely snorting out an answer as a tiny hand dragged them by sleeves into the backroom, out of sight.

The clerk came last, spattered with paint. Clancy tugged at his foot, clutching and dragging him by the ankle like a cat that had caught a pigeon in its jaws. That elicited a startled yelp, “W-wh-wait, ‘m sorry, ah’ve gorb cash, jush lemme go!” to no avail.

A series of panicked noises and muffled shrieks seeped out from the half-closed doorway, and as they left, the lifeless body of the driver lay slumped across the dash, the engine still running with a metallic whine. It looked as though the man’s head had been slammed into the corner of the door from some external force, pulled repeatedly until it had been left a bloodied pulp.

---

After a quick stop at another store to actually stock up on snacks and drinks, the group of four reached Luca's apartment. Luca assumed that Clancy would be able to find them just like he had every meeting but… he texted him his address anyway as he got out of Jasper's car. He could walk again, though the continued support from Ken's magic was helpful.

He led the way into the rundown building, into the lift then out finally to his flat. As he opened the door, he turned his head to grin at them all. ”Make yourselves at home! Well two of you live here and you’re over often enough Ken, it practically is home! But let’s just relax… maybe talk about today. Plans and stuff.”

Jasper led the way for Lila, hands still pressed on her head. Lila quickly made her way to the couch and collapsed face first onto it and did a fake sob. “I don’t know why the bird bitch let’s me keep doing that,” Lila groaned.

”Turning into a bird? Or… losing them?” Luca asked hesitantly, moving out of the way of Jasper and Lila. He grabbed a more worn wooden chair and sat down on it, still in a lot of pain. ”Are you alright, Lila?”

“Losing them,” Lila answered, her voice muffled by the cushion, “no, but yes, but nooooo,,” Lila paused as she looked up over to Luca, “how about you? How are you?” Lila

”About the same,” Luca laughed slightly, shrugging. ”My body hurts, but that’s nothing sleep won’t fix. I just need to not push myself too much tonight! Sadly you’ll all have to wait to try my amazing and definitely existent cooking skills.”

“I wait with baited breath,” Lila laughed as she buried her head back into the cushion.

”Next time… but today, Ken’s cooking for us,” Luca turned towards their friend with a grin. There was some loud banging outside, like a fire hydrant was destroyed, but he barely reacted. Loud noises and violence was normal in this part of town. He’d grown used to it.

---

The group inside Luca’s place weren’t alone. A certain skeleton was watching, two skeletal arms holding them up while the others subtly drew images in the mist on the glass. Their glowing eyes peered over, watching their prey. They were happy… but not alone. They would have to be careful when hunting them today.

From below, a half-foot chunk of brick flew forward with sufficient velocity to strike the side of the entity's ‘head’, or at least their ribcage.

Skelly’s head twisted all the way around as if it was doing its best exorcist impression and stared down at the agitator.

The boy glowered back, his face onky barely illuminated by the street lamp ahead. He didn't recognise the skeleton nor it know him, although the two doubtless understood that they were staring at a fellow hunter.

In the dim lighting, the boy’s eyes were two sunken pits harbouring no light. The presence of blood spatter, still smeared across the corner of his scalp, along with the faint coppery tang seeping into non-existant nostrils only accentuated his feral appearance.

”Leave.” A demand. A warning.

Clancy growled with a child's voice, but something deeper rumbled behind it. Hunger, bitterness, hatred and self-loathing, all folded into one.

Skelly let go of his grip and plummeted to the ground. A few seconds later they impacted, knees absorbing the impact, with all his arms at his side. Their body twisted around to face the boy. Their eyes were on the ground, but slowly raised up to match Clancy.

A soft, guttural laugh filled the air as their arms spread wide. The shadows of the street seemed to come alive as each hand formed a fist. “They’re my mark.”

They were.” Like a cat, the boy cautiously stalked forward in a closing circle, undeterred by the gesture, ”But you're doing a shitty job, so now they're mine.”

Skelly’s eyes almost seemed to widen in shock, their skeletal head creaking into a tilt. Their hands opened, upper arms widespread in a mocking gesture. They didn’t move - towards or away from Clancy. Their lower arms went back into fists, moving in front of them. “You hunt messily. I hunt with style. And I saw them first.”

The boy shrugged, brushing a few fingers over his scalp, then snapped the other hand outwards, grasping at the skeletal wrist outstretched nearest him, ”Style.” he echoed, meaning to tighten his fingers until he felt bone buckle.

Clancy would feel the body of Skelly suddenly give way to smoke. As they disappeared into a shadow that fell to the ground. The shadows danced around Clancy before Skelly manifested behind him, and the two top most arms grabbed at Clancy’s shoulders and the other two at his arms.

“You know nothing about having a flair for the dramatic-”

”Shut-” The boy pulled taut, ephemeral fingers tightening around his tatterd sleeve until skin buckled and gave way, the old leather straining. Tanned hide and fabric tore, and the shadow of a skeletal elbow snapped free from the now-limp sleeve, jabbing backwards in the skeleton's direction, ”-up.”

With a quiet oof, Skelly took the sharp elbow to their skeletal hip, grip on Clancy loosening. But they started cackling. They disappeared into the shadows again as Clancy swung with the other fist now free, laughter still echoing around the street. “Silence is for the hunt, not for the climactic fight.”

Skelly reappeared at Clancy’s side, one of his arms lashing it with sharp claws at his side.

Spears of bone raked through the leather, briefly impedee by the facade of skin, before stopping at the underlying shadow that formed the boy's real body. A gnarled, skeletal hand with dark stalactites for fingers clenched around the arm, while the boy kicked one leg outwards into what counted for a femur bone with hydraulic force.

Skelly allowed the hit to pass through his form as they shifted to a shadowy form. The fire hydrant exploded behind him as he took a few steps towards Clancy, head twitching quickly. “You can’t stop me.” The guttural laugh once again filled the air. With Clancy’s leg still inside the shadow Skelly returned to their physical form, cutting into the middle of his leg with their spine. A moment later the skeleton retreated into the shadows. A voice seemed to ring out from every shadow on the street.

“You can not stop me, you can not stop the hunt.” Skelly reappeared a few steps away from Clancy and grabbed at him with all four hands. Two aimed for Clancy’s hands and two aimed for his feet.

Again, four limbs pulled taut, straining at their joints, cloth, leagher and illusory flesh tearing at their seams in a fashion not unlike a quartering.the boy’s eyes crinkled, and then he jutted his head forward, butting his the peak of his forehead against the skeleton's lower jaw.

Skelly reeled backwards from the blow, feeling the bone structure pf their jaw cracked from the impact. The creature was beginning to realise this wasn’t such an easy fight…and it was noisy. They had to end it quickly or leave. The hands on Clancy’s feet let go to grab his scalp and try to pull his head off.

Bony fingers dug into whatever promise they could find; temples and eyesockets. The boy writhed as this creature appeared to gouge his eyes out in its efforts to prize his head off, and then-

Snap. The boy's upper jaw forcibly yawned open, wider than it should've, the artifice of cheek and lips giving way to a shadowy, faceless maw, characterised only by needlepoint teeth and the skull-shaped outline of shadow that should've been a head which started from the lower jaw upwards. Legs freed, Clancy's remaining body jabbed a foot into the ground for balance, then wrenched an arm in as hard as he could, hoping to pull the skeleton's form a little closer, then snapped his jaws down upon the exposed length of bone with enough force to crack open marrow, snapping through it like brittle wood.

In an instant the full body of Skelly turned to shadows, which dissipated as a roar filled the nearby area. A few seconds later everything went silent. Across the street Clancy would watch as three hands appeared out of a shadow cast by the street light. Two of the hands made a motion like they were choking an invisible person while the third slapped at where the head would have been. A second later all three hands flipped off the boy, before they disappeared for good, leaving him to be drenched in the outpour from the broken hydrant.

---

At the other side of the same windowsill, a half-formed skeletal hand crept upwards, thin digits pressing into the exterior frame for grip. Another hand, moments later, reached up to fiddle with the locking mechanism, seeking to prize open the latch without breaking anything.

When that failed, the hand rapped its shadowy knuckles against the glass as lightly as it could, producing a rattle that shook the group from their conversation.

Luca let out a strangled cry, jumping and causing the chair he was on to topple backward. He fell on his ass, panic clutching him. It was the skeleton. It had to be. It was back to torment them and-

Wait, the skeleton wasn’t shadowy. The crown of a familiar head of charcoal hair peering over the top all but confirmed it. Fuck, it wasn’t the skeleton, it was… ”Clancy! Oh, uh, can someone get the window open?”

Jasper ran over and opened the window, stepping back afterwards to give the boy some space

One of the boy's feet was braced against a gutter pipe, the other an AC unit, from which he pushed off and used or momentum to clamber through the now-opened window. He looked worse than when they'd last seen him, a dark line of shadow bisecting his head where upper and lower lips met, leaving him with the impression of an oily glaswegian grin. And his extremities were again missing the facade of flesh, taking on a shadowy, angular appearance.

As if to add to his haggard appearance, the boy was almost drenched, droplets of water beading off his uneven exterior and tattered coat and into the carpet.

It took Clancy a moment to realise how messy that might have been, as he glanced at the wet spot forming wherever he treaded.

”Sorry about your floor. There was a skeleton… asshole, watching you when I got here. Says you're his mark. ”

”Don’t worry about it,” Luca waved a hand, pointing to all of the various spots of rotting in the apartment. Then he looked at Jasper excitedly.

“NEVER HEARD OF A SKELETON ASSHOLE LIKE THAT,” Jasper shouted incorrectly. He wanted to ask if it was the same looking skeleton that haunted their waking moments.

Clancy shrugged, ”Four arms?” then reconsidered, ”Three arms now, maybe.” In the narrow lighting of the apartment, the boy's face was lit up, only further highlighting the dark line running from either corner of his mouth. ”Never met a skeleton that talked, or grew back bones before. Too many of us in this town.”

”That’s- nothing like anything I’ve seen before!” Luca managed to get out after straining a lot. He groaned, trying to pull the chair he’d knocked over back up and accidentally rotting through the back. Another thing to replace… just the normal. Concentrating, he managed to pull what was left of it up and sit back on it like it was a stool. ”We don’t have a skeleton problem around here, just a lot of clowns. Constant clown attacks.”

“And bees. We often have to fight a bee swarm around here.”

“Who gets into so many fights with bees,” Lila’s voice was once again muffled by the cushions. Like really? Who willingly picks a fight with bees?

”Someone stupid enough to throw rocks at their nest, maybe?” Clancy shrugged again, then pivoted to shut the window behind him. That muffled the sound of water spurting and sloshing across the sreet from the burst hydrant, and for a moment he caught a view of his own reflection, the rictus grin cast across his face and the oily silhouette that formed his extremities. ”I'm.. sorry. That you got hurt because of me, today. I don't really have anyone to… talk to like this, but you're good. Thanks.”

His attention shifted back to Lila, brow arched, ”Prom Queen wanted you. I get Britney, but why you?”

Lila raised her head, but her eyes squinted in the light as if it was causing her a migraine, “Emily was being a cunt, deadnaming me, and I punched her in the face.”

”Deadname?” His brow arched, ”Is that like a curse or something?”

Lila pushed herself up with her arms before she rose to her feet and stood up tall. She looked to Luca before she looked back at the kid. “I wasn’t born with the name Lila. What do you know about trans people kid,” Lila asked with a soft smile.

”Uhhh…” Gears slowly turned, a vague understanding forming, ”Right. Like the people who are into different stuff. You weren't always…” he idly tilted a palm at her, ”Yeah?”

“Yes and no. Up here,” Lila tapped a clawed finger against her head, “yes, but the rest of me needed some help to get to where I felt most at home in my body. Which is why these wings and clawed hands are so annoying now that I think about it.”

”I think I get it… you're okay. You aren't an asshole. Emily is, though.” He raised a gnarled palm, the facade of flesh slowly filling in like paint coating an empty canvas, ”So you can be you.” Fingers clenched into a half-fist.

”I get it. I'm… older than I look. Not really a kid anymore. Stuck like this.” Where his sleeve was tattered, he pointed at a puckered section of flesh across his sleeve that looked like normal scar tissue. ”Fell off my bike a few months before I was made like this. That was years ago. But my body… or whatever keeps me like this, still thinks I'm twelve-and-a-half.”

“That sounds terrible,” Lila was lucky that The Maiden wasn’t as pushy when it came to accepting the gifts. She knew that the longer any of these changes lingered the harder it was to get them to go away. If she didn’t figure out a way to better control the wings she very well might be stuck with them forever. “how old do you think you are?

”A hundred years, maybe?” His expression crinkled, ”Drove horsecarts and read by a candle.”

”A hundred?!” Luca gaped. That was… a long time to be alive. A really long time to be alive. It was possible without magic, but most a hundred year olds weren’t so… spry. His shock quickly turned into a grin, and a joke. ”Shit, I didn’t realise we were in the presence of a grandpa… Got any wise words for us young’uns?”

”Don't believe everything you're told.” A strange cackle slipped forth from the boy, threatening to offer them a smile. It would've looked pleasant, if not for the thin gap still running across the boy's face and casting another glaswegian grin.

”That much is obvious,” Luca laughed. He shrugged. As much as he was always positive and liked to see the good in people, he knew a thing or two about not trusting them. After all… it was thanks to another person that he was like this. ”Especially with magic. We have a few people in the coven that can mess with your brain.”

”Older…” Clancy paused to consider, before more spilled out, ”I lost track. Years. More. My parents were in the war… Mom ran away from the nazis, lost her family in Poland… Old Man fought ‘em. My brother got drafted just after I disappeared, and he never made it home.” This time, there was no dryness to his tone. No wry grin.

”Shit, that’s rough, I’m sorry,” Luca offered genuinely. ”I bet it was hard having to just watch after you changed. I… kinda get that, a bit. I can’t ve around my family either. None of them are magic so just getting close to me would kill them. It sucks. I had to cut them off for their own good and that was… shit. I can’t imagine a hundred years of that.”

”I understand.” he nodded, eyes lidded, ”After I… changed, I wasn't me for a while. Didn't care who I hurt... spent a long time alone in the parks. I tried so many times to stop, and couldn't. Couldn't end it either. Only got me back by accident.”

Lila felt the cold talons of The Maiden drag her mind down to the mindscape and Lila was powerless to stop it . Lila’s body nearly stumbled over but her eyes quickly rose to meet the ‘boy’ and a smile spread across her face. “How fascinating,” The Maiden spoke through Lila with ease, “who are you, and I don’t mean you boy,” The Maiden paused as she pulled Lila’s body up straight and tall, “have we crossed paths before? I know the Rot very, very well, I like to be familiar with all my companions.”

Clancy's expression crinkled again, betraying irritation.

”It isn't in the driver's seat, and it'll stay that way.” His jaw set, ”I don't deal with parasites.”

“Oh I’m not a parasite.,” The Maiden chuckled as she knew she was something far worse. “You’re boring,” The Maiden faked a sigh as she released Lila and sent her back up. Once again Lila nearly stumbled as she returned to control. “I hate when she does that.”

”Does it make you hurt people, too?” he asked, bluntly.

“She’s pushed me into fights, but doesn’t ask that I seek one out, Lila added, “I think she tried to have me curse Vashti but that didn’t work but she knows what strings to pull to make me want to fight. To change people.”

”I’ve been trying to help her with that,” Luca offered, rubbing the back of his neck. He was uncomfortable from the moment the maiden had appeared, feeling the Rot stir inside of him. But it didn’t make any move to try and take over. It never did. ”I’ve spent ten years suppressing it. Not quite a hundred but… I’m good at it. It just sucks. Us adjoined- or whatever it is for you- gotta stick together, though, right? Maybe we can really help each other.”

“Yeah, you have the tradition Adjoined, the agent thanks to an apparition sealed within me, the cursed by an apparition which is vaguely adjoined, and whatever flavour of adjoined you are. We cover most of the bases.

”I don't know what I am. Britney thinks I could be an abominathing.” He seemed resigned, tired without fatigue. ”Maybe I am. I don't feel human anymore. Won't age. Can't die. Barely remember what it's like to sleep, or be warm. And I…” he hesitated, then glanced up at Luca, ”Can you trust me?”

”Yes,” Luca said without hesitation, before smiling. ”Even if you’re not technically ‘human’ that’s… necessarily a bad thing. Not all non-humans are evil. Plenty of humans are. And really, how human are we? I rot everything I touch and Lila’s turning part bird.” He laughed. ”Getting a bit too philosophical there but, I trust you. I’ve just got a feeling, y’know… plus the thing inside my head doesn’t like you. That counts for something.”

”I don't… I want you hurt, but… when this is all done, you need to stay as far from me as you can. You and your friends, it won't always be safe. This… I hurt people.” Clancy reconsidered, ”No. I said I'm in control of me, but that's not all true. I'm always hungry. Starving, but not dying. Only thing that stops it… meat. Fresh, live meat. I said I lost myself… I tried to stop when it happened, and something else took over. Don't remember all of it, just… forest, hiking trails, bodies.”

Luca smiled sadly when Clancy mentioned staying away from him when this was all over. If he was honest with himself, Luca didn't see himself living that long. His lifespan was shortening and shortening with each stressful incident. And for the first time he found himself wanting to tell someone that he was dying. But he didn't. ”We’ll deal with after when we get to it… But you stopped? Found yourself again?”

”I got lucky, something reminded me of who I was. I was Clancy. But I had to choose between being a monster, or being a monster that hurt bad people. Like.. those assholes at the gas station. Or the other bikers that went missing. Joe Skinner was my work. I'm telling you because you trusted me at the bar. Helped me, so maybe you'll get it.”

Luca nodded. ”I get it a bit. You… do what you have to in a way that minimises the damage. So you can still be yourself as much as possible. If I didn't just rot things… if I had to choose… I think I'd still have to do it. Or it'd take over.”

“Don't say that,” Lila paused as she concentrated, making a single feather on her wind spark to life. No one would be tempted to pluck the feather but they would feel the allure of the feather as it pierced through their emotional fields. “If you have to hurt people, and you have to rot stuff, what does that mean I have to do?”. The feather stopped emitting the cursed light as she chuckled. “One day at a time, right Luca?”

”Right,” Luca smiled at Lila, even though he felt that burning pain in his chest from the Rot straining within him. The allure of the feather, momentary as it was, had it wanting to get out. He suppressed it just like he always did but it was… uncomfortable. ”You’re right, Lila! It’s not like me to not be positive. I’m sure there’s a way to make things easier for all of us, so we don’t have to…or don’t have to as much. We’ll find a way.”

The boy quietly listened, ruminating on his thoughts. He looked back at his reflection in the mirror, contemplating matters.

“Regardless, Clancy, you’re like us. We got your back. If that bitch that shot you ever shows up again I’ll peck out her eyes, Luca can rot her knees, you can take your revenge, and Lynn can show you how nice the future looks without her in it.

Clancy had been silently listening, but the mention of the hitwoman had prompted him to speak, ”You should probably run if you see her. I've been hit with worse stuff before, but that crystal thing… hurt at the time, but it was the first time I could feel... any pain.”

It had almost been a reminder of what it was to be alive, in a twisted way. Thoughts drifted on. He was looking for his own revenge, but not on her, and not just that alone.

”I keep thinking about what happens if-.. when I find the asshole who killed Ashley. She was family. That wasn’t a lie. But after that... I don’t want to keep going like this. I’ve lost track of years, where I’ve been, what I’ve done... what if I run out of assholes to hurt?”

It was something he'd never opened up about before, his tone weighed with decades of a cold, lonely bitterness, interspersed with brief moments of blood and meat.

”I’m tired. I’m just... here. Not even really here, just what’s left of me, memories that I’m just hanging onto and needs to keep quiet. And always knowing that if I ever slip....”

Clancy balled up a half-gnarled fist, raising it to his chest.

”I’ve only told one other person this - apart from you, Luca. I guess it doesn’t matter. I want to find the thing that made me like this. I want to end it. Break the cycle. That's why I wanted Ashley and her knife. She was going to help me.”

Truthfully, he wanted more than he was willing to admit.

No more hunger. No more cold.

Just sleep.

Lila listened intently to the words that Clancy spoke. She was tired too and it had only been a month of her having the maiden sealed inside of her. She has lost bodily autonomy, sanity, and even her plans for the future. She dreamed of being this advocate for queer kids, to build a space that they could thrive in, and now her future involved the maiden, the crows, and the changes that come along with them. She couldn’t imagine what another year of this would be like, let alone the time that Clancy had to deal with this. Lila was tired.

“Don’t worry Lila,” The Maiden whispered in her ear almost seductively, “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll give you training tomorrow, teach you to master my magic, so that you never face to worry about what the future holds for you.”

”We’ll help you find the Apparition Killer,” Luca said, with a slight smile towards Clancy. He understood the want to be free. For him it had only been ten years… ten long years of not being able to live normally. But he was still alive and he was still himself. He couldn't imagine nearly a hundred. It must be tiring. Neverending. Even with so little time left himself, he wasn't jealous in the slightest. ”I don't know if we can help you find whatever made you like this, but we can try. So that you can be free of it and… rest.”

Luca understood well enough that Clancy wasn't adjoined like them. He probably wouldn't survive the destruction of whatever made Clancy into this, because it was what was keeping him alive in the first place. Not really alive… but he didn't comment on that. It wasn't his place. He was someone who'd accepted his own fate too.

”Thanks for telling us all this. I know it's not easy when people can… well they don't understand. We're not the same, but we're similar. We all have our struggles because of Apparitions. We'll find the Apparition Killer for you and everyone else it could help.”

”... thanks,” Clancy mumbled, after a moment's pause, ”No one else knows except…” For a moment, he contemplated invoking Adora's name, but he'd promised to keep that conversation between the two of them, or at least about the part involving her seeing a head doctor. Better to play it safe. ”... Britney probably has something figured out. Don't trust her.. not really. Not with what she did and who she talks to.”

”Britney… is complicated. But you’re probably right to not trust her,” Luca replied honestly. Because while he’d ultimately forgiven her for what she did, he didn’t trust her. He then waved a hand in front of his face. ”But let’s take a break from all the seriousness! Let’s put on a movie, have some of Ken’s famous ‘balls’- well I don’t know if you can eat normal food, Clancy, but you can still enjoy a movie, right?”

When was the last time he'd sat down to watch anything?

”Sure, I guess.”

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Last time I tried to make something nice (Fred the Llama) Ghost threatened to kill all my characters so...

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Hey! If anyone is interested in Aislin's art unveiling, there's a collab sheet here:

docs.google.com/document/d/1b9Y8wbC9b…

@Estylwen

Luca would send Aislin a nice letter for this congratulating her and apologising that he can't attend cause he'd... destroy all the art and kill people accidentally :')

Paragraphs: Agents of Death [FernStone & Mixtape Ghost Note]

---

---

”… Otten, Otten,” Yoko said, gently nudging Saskia awake. ”Wake up. There are people coming. We have to go.”

It was pouring down yet again.

”It’s hard to discern any details due to the rain, but there’s at least two dozen of them,” Yoko explained. ”Wake up Turner and Brooks.”

"Can't we just leave them?" Saskia intoned, even as they turned around to violently shake Ella awake. They'd managed to position themselves on the outside this time with Ella in the middle, hugging Lisa as the smallest spoon like normal. As Ella woke up she jostled Lisa.

"Huhhh, what?"

"People. Get up."

”Well-” Lisa loudly yawned.
”... Well, are they friendly people?”

”From the way they speak, I can tell we should avoid them,” Yoko said. ”Pack up, we’re slipping out the back before they notice us.”

Yoko then turned to Ella, ”Disciple, it’s time to put your training to practice. Use Focus to discern their general vicinity.”

Ella closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. "... We’re surrounded!"

"Sneaking out isn't an option then," Saskia commented. They pulled out their knife, pulling it across their palm and beginning to coat their arm in the blood armour. "Let's still go out the back. Maybe we can pick some off then run."

”Turner! Spiders!” Yoko commanded, and spiders came out of the hidden corners of the room. ” It's raining fairly hard, I wouldn’t recommend a fi-”

The doors were thrown open… And a hulking figure stepped in. It was a man, heavily deformed, and standing over six feet tall. He wore blue overalls and wielded a rusted double-barrel shotgun that was tapes together and chipped.

“... What are you four doing in Pa’s barn?!” He said in a thick accent. “He’s been dead for ten years! Have some respect!”

He raised the shotgun.

”Sorry, we were just leaving!" Ella said, throwing her hands up into the air in a surrender position.

Saskia didn't say anything, watching the deformed man carefully, blood creeping along her skin under her clothes and towards her back in preparation for a fight if need be.

“You ain’t going anywhere little lady!” He said with a grin. “You’re now tonight’s food!”

Yoko sighed, and in a burst of speed, appeared on the other side of the Hillbilly. She silently placed the Yokai Killer back into its sheath as his torso began to rot. Then the slash appeared, and he hunched forward, landing on his hands and knees, coughing up blood. The shotgun landed on the ground..

”Surprised he’s still alive…” Yoko rolled her eyes, and looked over her shoulder.
”One of you! Finish him off! We may have to fight our way out of here.”

"Easy." Saskia shoved their blood tendril right through his throat, brutally ripping it out. They then went over and kicked his body over. "May? Definitely. Lisa, can you get a flying spider ready?"

"It won't be hard if they're all like him!" Ella said, pulling out the Ice Scepter and practically skipping over to Yoko and Saskia.

Lisa nodded her head and five spiders were wrapped in glowing cocoons.

”Let’s not get-”

A mutated fist went through the wall of the barn, only to get retracted. Then a lit stick of dynamite followed.

”Shit!” Yoko shouted as she took a defensive position.

"TAKE COVER!" Ella yelled, blasting the area around the dynamite with ice, trying to form an ice container over it.

Saskia swore as she backed away, blood armour covering her. Lisa quickly ducked behind a tractor, activating the exoskeleton. It went off, almost collapsing the building in the blast as sharpel was sent in all directions. Yoko stood fast, only moved backwards slightly as the explosion just singed her clothing.

Yoko sighed, ”Is everybody okay?!”

”I’m okay!” Lisa shouted, ”But my babies aren’t!”

”Oh, get over it, Turn-” Yoko was interupted by some shouting.

“... SEND IN GEORGE, BETTY, AND BILLYBOB!”

A few moments later, a hulking pig monster with the girth of a 18-wheeler came burst through the wall. It had freakish boils growing on the side of its body and plates of keratin. It loudly squealed before two more came in.

"NOT BILLYBOB!" Ella wailed, undamaged and spinning to change into her magical girl outfit. "I'm not sure I can-"

"Just blast them," Saskia picked herself up from the ground, grimacing as blood dripped from spots that had been caught in the worst of the blast. At least it was just the blood from her armour… mostly. They held up a hand and shot a blood bullet towards one of the pig monsters. It bounced off, as it squeeled and charged Saskia - only for spider webs to bind its front leg and cause it to fall forward.

The next pig, Betty, turned towards Ella and charged her while Billybob went after Yoko.

Ella screamed as she dodge rolled out of the way, flipping over and shooting beams of ice at Betty's legs. Freezing Betty’s front leg.

Saskia used the advantage Lisa had given them by stopping George to launch themselves into his back, bone spears shooting out of their knees to dig into his back between armour. Penetrating the Pig, and causing him to squeal in pain. However, he quickly rolled around. Saskia snapped off the bone spears in him and leapt of, landing on the ground awkwardly with a groan.

Billybob opened it's maw to bite Yoko, only for her to hold the Yokai Killer sideways in a defensive position. When Billybob bit down on the sword, his teeth began to decay and fall out. He loudly squealed as he relented. Yoko charged forward to finish the job, but Billybob rammed her with his boa and sent her skidding backwards. The Yokai Killer clattered against the ground.

”Yoko!” Lisa shouted, before opening her mouth and spewing spiders onto Billybob’s side and they detonated in acid. Billybob squealed, thrashing on the ground as his intestines hit the floor.

"Get the others too!" Saskia shouted, lashing out with a blood tendril at George’s face, slashing it open and spraying blood. Only to vomitted on by Lisa and the spiders detonated in acid, dissolving his face and then he slumped over dead.

Ella leapt at Betty, jumping up onto her back, and slamming electrified hands into her back. The pig monster loudly screamed as it fell over, and attempted to roll with Ella on top. Ella kicked herself off the pig, rolling away with a grunt.

Yoko grabbed the Yokai Killer, and swung it directly at Billybob’s neck, and decapitated him in one swing. His head rotted away into nothing upon hitting the ground.

"Sorry pig monster who did no wrong!" Ella shouted as she shifted around on the floor, shoving her hands out and spraying flames at Betty. Who backpedaled away from the fires, however massive spider legs burst from underneath her and impaled her. Yoko ran up, raised the Yokai Killer overhead and brought it down on Betty’s neck.

Her head dropped to the ground and decayed afterward. Yoko paused for a moment, before saying,

”We’re still surrounded! I suggest we pick a direction and blitz it!”

"That way," Saskia pointed the opposite direction to where the pigs had come in. They only waited a moment for anyone to react, before moving over. "Ella, kick it down, then electrocute everyone outside. It's raining, right? Just don't get caught in the rain too."

"... Right." Ella looked at Yoko, then kicked the wall, taking a chunk out that was large enough for them to get through. Electricity surged down her hands and she shoved them through it, shooting it wildly all around the outside vicinity.

”... It's raining, Brooks!” Yoko shouted.

A crowd was formed outside the hole… Scattering for a moment before a shotgun blast rung out directly at Ella.

"Idiot." Saskia's blood tendril wrapped around Ella's waist and yanked her out of the way.

"You told me to!" Ella wailed.

Saskia shrugged… quickly holding out her hands. Thin nerves shot out her fingers, crawling across the floor like mycelium, seeking all the people outside and trying to embed into their skin. As soon as they connected they'd start paralysing… And they suddenly stopped moving.

Lisa opened her jaw and began spraying spiders in all directions at the Hillbillies and they exploded into acid and chitin fragments mid-air. They screamed and hollered, and Yoko put the Yokai Killer away and pulled out the Dragon’s Wisdom. She held the blade in front of her on her thumbs. The rainwater was collected around her as she closed her eyes, breathed in deeply.

She shot her hands forward.

The water burst out like a wave and launched Hillbillies aside as Yoko gestured for the others to come along before she sheathed the sword and hopped into the air. She kept her hand on the Dragon’s Wisdom as she hit the ground.

Ella ran out first, legs glowing a soft rainbow that made her faster. She kicked any Hillbillies strewn in their path to the side so that they could run. Saskia grimaced, pulling back in her nerves - they should still stay paralyzed for a couple of minutes - and followed right behind Ella. Spider legs erupted from Lisa’s back as she flung herself forward.

Yoko ran into the bushes, followed by the others.

---

They approached a pond… Much like the rest of the farm, it was tainted brown from waste and debris. Yoko walked down the path, and got on her knees, closing her eyes, ”... I can’t sense anyone.”

”... Are we in the clear?” Lisa asked.

”Possibly,” Yoko said.

"I don’t sense anyone either," Ella said after a moment of silence.

"We should keep going anyway," Saskia suggested, looking around with narrowed eyes. Who knew when something would jump out and attack them. "We rested enough."

Yoko unsheathed the Yokai Killer, and raised it high into the air.

”... Onwards, friends!” Yoko valiantly said. ”To the Kingdom!”

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

Casey’s Office

---

A few hours later, the two of them were down in Casey's office.

Trisha basically hadn't left his side since he'd woken back up from nearly dying. She was too worried that he'd just disappear - like he had in the illusion, like everyone else had in her life. Her plan for the day, to get her own office setup and everything sorted on the computer provided, was completely discarded. It may just be one room away, but that was too far. So she did what she'd said she would the night before, and climbed onto Casey's lap to just cling. Cuddling in as close as she could to him, legs awkwardly wrapped around him and arms shoved under his to hold onto him. He could still see over her head, pressed in under his chin, at the screens if he needed to. She just needed to be close to him. To feel that he was there. Pressing in close while doing what she normally would, silently suppressing the memories dragged back up and the feelings that came with it. Everything but the sullenness and frustration at her own situation was buried.

Eventually, her thoughts were less chaotic. Things started to calm down, though she didn't cling to Casey any less. Just relaxed more, last bits of tension leaving her body. But there was still a paranoia there, a fragility that could lead to her shattering easily. She enjoyed the silent cuddling, not needing words between them, but as her mind got less jumbled the irritating thoughts she didn't want also became clearer. The silence didn't help.
“I think…" she trailed off, pulling her head back just a bit to speak. What was she thinking, what did she want to say?
“I really need to learn how to use a gun."

Casey nodded his head at Trisha’s admission. At first, he’d been fairly uncomfortable with her clinging to him in his lap, as he had to adjust to actually using the computer with the equivalent of a full ruck hanging off his chest. It was awkward, but he was thankful that Furio’s loved to stay comfortable; the “Commander’s Chair” was a plush leather thing with its own cup holder and full reclining range.
On many occasions, that chair had served as a bed; to the point that there was another chair placed so perfectly behind it that when one fully reclined, it served as a second support to ensure that the held body could rotate and jostle without fear of tipping.

It was certainly strong enough for the both of them. Casey had, at this point, tucked Trisha up a bit so her bottom rested a bit on the desk. He didn’t want to cut her circulation off anywhere, but he needed to be closer to the desk to work. His tattered glove, the channeler he’d Kindled into, fit snug to his right hand. He needed to channel to be able to actually see the screens, after all.
What was on them? A whole lot of sleeping prisoners, people kept hundreds of feet underground. Malcontents, Aberrants without the ability to control themselves, the shame and sadness of the Temple of Charming and Graceful individuals.

Every so often, the monitors swapped to another feed. Dorms, not-so-public places, family rooms, common areas, offices from the Temple’s main grounds all the way up to Seattle. Things Casey didn’t want to watch. So he was mostly ignoring them, waiting for what Furio had described as “The Call to Action.”
It sounded like the same bullshit from the recruitment office when he joined the Army. The call to action…

He’d wound up slipping his pistol out and taking Trisha down the hall to the armory to get some cleaning supplies before making way for the desk again. With her still clung tight to him, his sweet Koala Bee, he’d started to clean the weapon from being fired that morning. He was proud enough of Trisha for doing what had to be done, but now she was taking a more vested interest.

”I like the way you think, Koala Bee… We can start you off with something small. That way you can get used to the jumping and the popping and stuff.”
He had disassembled the entire pistol, and laid it in pieces on a rag while he applied a bit of spray-on cleaner into the barrel.
”It’d just make me feel a whole lot safer. We can only do so much protection and magical locking, you know? There’ll probably be a point when you need something extra.”
As he finished, he planted a kiss on the top of her head.

Trisha nodded, twisting around so that she could look at the pistol. She was surprised she'd even shot it… or that it had done anything. Had it, even?
“I don't want the bees to get hurt either. They can fight things, I can command them to do it efficiently, but I feel every one that dies… and they're so small. I don't want to be stuck inside surrounded by magical locks either."

She'd never felt a need to learn any other way to defend herself, even when Father Wolf first appeared. Maybe she'd just accepted that if he appeared, that was it. But now she didn't want that to be the case.
“Definitely something small, I'd need to hit the gym for anything remotely heavy." She then tilted her head, watching what he was doing with both interest and confusion.
“Do you need to clean it after every shot? Isn't that a bit inefficient?"

Casey laughed, imagining having to clean the gun after every single shot.
”No, no… But if you go through a lot of shots, or you think it may be a while, you should do it. Honestly, I’m… It's… Like a fidget spinner, for me. Something to do with my hands that isn’t going to disturb or bother you. I can’t really use the ammo press with you like this, so…-”
He wound up over explaining as usual, and almost instantly realized he was making it sound like her being there was a problem.

”-So, rather than having to be without you, or make my sweet girl get down, I figured I’d do, well, this.” he punctuated, shoving a bristle-covered rod into the barrel to brush it out and make sure the cleaner spread evenly.

Just as Casey had anticipated, Trisha started to get a bit irritated at what felt like a not so subtle suggestion that she was just getting in the way. But he soothed that annoyance, and the anxieties that came with it, when he continued. Her being here wasn't a problem. It wasn't annoying. He'd chosen to do something he could while she hugged him.
“Mm, I'm glad you chose me over the ammo press… So you normally don't have to do it after just one shot, but it's something to do? I understand… with the bee maintenance, I'd sometimes clean the hive when I didn't really need to. It was something to do that-"

She completely cut off mid sentence. Her slightly parted lips pressed together, and her eyes narrowed and glazed over. Like she was seeing something else entirely, rather than looking at him like she had been as she talked. Her mind wasn't there at all - she couldn't see him, or feel him. Only the recollection she'd suddenly been dragged into.
The bees that had been relaxing around the room, a group of about twenty sitting in various, out of the way places started to get irritated and confused. They started buzzing, but without any pheromonal commands at all, they didn't know what to do. She was still there, but not. It confused them, and they started flying about the room with loud buzzes, seemingly without direction.

It wasn’t her sudden silence that caused his gaze to rise up and look around. It was the bees starting to go about their business in a more unpredictable way. They were starting to make their way toward her last “known” location, and Casey looked down with a furrowed brow to see what the hell had happened that made her call them.
The glassy look on her face didn’t make him feel good. Not at all. He immediately moved to a sharp piece of metal, mashing it into his hand and letting it split his palm open on a nerve; a test of his reality. With a grunt, he pulled the metal fragment back out and began to channel White Lux in a wide detector range.

Norm and a few of the others were in the other office. As it washed further down the building, he could see the influence of the Wampus Cat Aura closer to the basement. That wasn’t what was happening. So, he did the only thing he could think to do, and turned his lux on Trisha. White washed across her, looking for any sort of external signal or a curse that may’ve been placed on her.
But there wasn’t anything… It wasn’t even a health issue; her heart rate wasn’t climbing by much, she wasn’t feverish.

”Trisha!? Trisha!?” he growled, shaking her with his free hand and speaking low enough that nobody would run to his assistance.

Trisha came back with a gasp, hands grasping at Casey's shirt and her eyes immediately squeezing shut. She hadn't heard anything he said, but he was still shaking her, which didn't help at all.
“What the fuck?!" she whispered hoarsely, still not quite aware of where she was, not really talking to Casey. It was just like all the dreams she'd had, except she wasn't sleeping this time. She'd still been dragged into it. If anything it was worse when she wasn't sleeping. She grimaced, curling forward and into Casey, trembling slightly.
“Why do you keep showing me her."

Raven Jones. A person Trisha had known, but things she didn't know about her. Before she met her. Long before… Things she didn't want to know. More warnings and insistence that she do things she wasn't capable of doing. Was she the only one getting these visions? Why? She didn't want to. She took a deep breath, seeming to calm down a bit. Her pheromones, strangely weak, evened out and the bees immediately went for her, landing in her hair and on her neck. She pulled back a little bit to peek up at Casey, trying to smile.
“Sorry… that probably scared you. I'm fine, all fine, don't worry."

Casey stared at Trisha, dumbfounded that she’d have the audacity to suggest that she was fine at that point.
”That probably scared you?” he asked her back, eyes narrowed at her.
”Trisha… You can’t possibly expect me to believe you…”

His free hand, not covered in fresh blood, moved to her face. His rough thumb brushed against the soft flesh of her cheek.
”You have got to stop lying to me… I don’t expect you to tell me all your deepest darkest secrets, Trisha, but you cannot keep outright lying. Especially now… Now that I can tell.” he gave her a stern look.

Trisha's eyes widened, fingers tightening into the fabric of Casey’s shirt. Her head jerked back, breathing quickening. He could tell? Since when could he tell? The… since the ceremony? How much had she lied, how much did he notice, was he disappointed? How was she supposed to stop? Covering up anything below the surface of her, lying about it all, was second nature. Lying, resenting, blaming others… All to maintain the facade that was her. But he could tell?

And he was annoyed. She tried to channel some of that normal irritation and resentment, to snap back at him about using lie detection magic on her, but all she felt was fear. This was it, this was the moment he realised-
“I- I- I-” She stammered out, visibly wilting underneath his stern gaze. Disappointed. Just like… just like everyone in her life looked at her eventually…
“D-don’t… I… But-”

Casey stopped her before she could continue. His eyes closed and he shook his head before pulling her closer to him. He held her, like he never wanted to let her go.
”Trisha… You’re okay. It's okay, Baby… If it’s hurting you so badly, I don’t want to know. Not if it’s going to do this to you. I’m sorry.” he said quietly, gloved hand running through her hair before starting to rub her back.

”Maybe I don’t know what slow means… ‘Cuz I love you, and I don’t want you to be afraid of me. Or, telling me things. And maybe I don’t really know what love is either, but I know enough to know that I’m here. For you. In spite of everything else.”
He did his best to keep his wounded palm away from her, so he didn’t stain her clothing.
”Just… Tell me it’s a topic for later; I won’t push unless I have to. But, God… Stop saying things you don’t mean.”

Trisha’s head snapped up to stare at him, eyes wide. What? He loved her? He couldn’t love her, it was too soon. But she couldn’t decide his feelings. If he did, that meant he wouldn’t leave her. No, it would hurt more when he did.
“I’m not afraid of you, I’m afraid of you leaving me,” she whispered, before she could stop the words from coming out. Just like everyone did when they got beneath the surface. It was why she kept people up there. Covered up the ugly insides. The faulty product of her terrible parents.

“If I stop, you’ll know- you’ll know that- you won’t like it. You don’t love me, you love the fake me. Who I pretend to be.” It wasn’t quite true, because she’d been more herself with Casey than she had many past partners. Comfortable to pull down that rich, pretty girl exterior and just be herself. But it still covered up all of her issues. He’d only gotten a glimpse, and she’d tried her best to avoid even that.
“Nobody ever cares. I don’t know why you’d be there when-” When even her mother never had been. When even she’d abandoned her. It was the closest Trisha had ever gotten to saying it outloud, or telling the whole truth. But she couldn’t. She was scared she’d even gotten close.

“I’ll- I’ll try to stop.”

Casey shook his head. She could feel him giggle to himself. She could feel him adjusting her in his arms to look at her. He was smiling. It wasn’t a big smile, or like he was smug. He was just happy to see her.
”Last night, you implied to my Sister that our Dad didn’t love us. If I was gonna leave you for something you said? It’d have been there… Because I know for a fact he did love us. All of us. And it hurt me too, that you said that. But I can’t imagine something worse: You’d have to kill my turtle maliciously in front of me or something stupid… Something crazy, y’know?”

Casey’s head dipped a bit to make sure she was looking at him.
”So, please… Worried or not, if I feel like I don’t want to be with you? I’d talk to you about it first. I’m not a boy, Trisha… I killed other people to protect the world we live in. I won’t waste what I fought for by hurting you. That’s why, like… There’s gonna be secrets. Right? Stuff I can’t tell you because of the nature of my work. But, I’ll do my best for you too… To make sure I don’t lie to you.”

Even with him saying it like that, it was difficult for Trisha to believe. Over twenty years of issues, of rejections and never being good enough and being discarded for others, couldn’t just be spoken away. But she believed he was being genuine, right now. He hadn’t left her last night when she’d said that. When she’d assumed everyone’s world was just like hers - with parents who didn’t love them. But really, she’d just been jealous.

“My dad didn’t love me. I shouldn’t have lashed out because of that.” Trisha said, more honest than she had been for a long time - admitting to something all of her siblings knew, but that she’d never say. The closest she’d come to really taking responsibility for something. She spoke without much emotion to it - James Vanburen had been dead for ten years. She’d come to terms with it a bit… until she had to hear about fathers so different from her own.

“I’m not used to talking. None of my exes- only Reyna bothered. I’m not used to it… but no more lying, I’ll really try. Even if there’s secrets.” She gnawed on her lip, before smiling slightly at him. She wasn’t relaxed, she only felt a bit more secure in everything, but he hadn’t lashed out. She’d talked and he hadn’t lashed out, or shut her down, or just completely ignored her. Hadn’t told her she was unreasonable. It was a start.
“I saw another dream. I was there watching this other person’s life. The same person I’ve had dreams about before. But I can’t tell you why it affected me so much.” In a way, she wished she could. Then she could get rid of the burden that wasn’t really her own.
“It’s a family secret. We have those too.”

A tear welled up in his eye, and Casey was quick to wrap his arms around her again.
”That was hard?” he asked her. It wasn’t sarcastic, but he was definitely asking it genuinely. He didn’t really get-

Oh… No… He got it. People get defensive when they’re asked to explain themselves: Of course she was going to have a problem with it. There weren’t too many people, he figured, who were happy to smile and giggle and openly joke about being a cultist. That was something, coincidentally, that Lynette had given to her kids. So much surveillance meant that you didn’t have secrets. Everything was always out on the table at all times.

Even outsiders got it, because the premise was just too ridiculous. Too silly, until you looked up the website for the Temple, or saw a couple pamphlets… Or saw that the woman in charge dressed her whole organization like an extended Addams Family. She flirted with the open, tantilizing those who would be caught up and taunting whatever authority may exist… He was, if anything, from an atypical family of rebellious spirits. His perceptions were so much different.

She’d said another dream. Another. Like… Yesterday being the first? He did have questions, that couldn’t be mistaken. But his strong feeling of care toward her overrode the situation fully.
”Yesterday… Mom passed her spellbook to me. Helped me open the Pale in my Eye. Strangely, our minds work similarly; all of her spells just… Made sense. Like I’d made them myself. So, now… Now you’re kind of stuck with me being aware. I’m doing my best to not pay attention, but… I’m sorry. I’ll notice things. Like, yesterday. You lied about your dream. I accepted it, because I have to lie to you about it too.”

He offered the final admission as an olive branch, hoping she’d understand that she wasn’t the only guilty one. Casey hoped that Trisha would be able to take some comfort in that.

“Oh, well…” Trisha shifted uncomfortably. She couldn’t lie about being comfortable with it, because he’d know, and she’d just said she wouldn’t. Of course she didn’t like there being that awareness, because then she couldn’t hide things. But it wasn’t like he could turn it off.
“I’m kind of used to it. Reyna read me the whole time we were together, because she was also aware. As long as you don’t start using any of those spying spells which… I trust that you won’t.”

Not that she’d been happy with it overall, but she could accept it with Casey. He… he said he was trying to not pay attention to it. He wasn’t being malicious with it. But he had known she lied about that dream yesterday… and he’d just have to lie in response. Really, they both lied. That meant they didn’t have to talk about it, right? Couldn’t. It would just remain an unspoken understanding.
“Yesterday’s dream and today’s dream were different. Today’s and the ones before it aren’t to do with the Temple. I just don’t know why I’m having any of them.” She didn’t want him thinking she kept dreaming about things he’d have to lie about, or worry about covering up. It was unrelated… would be to her, if there weren’t mentions of the Snake, and she hadn’t known Raven, once.

If the dream from the day before had to do with his own Father, like he assumed it did due to her branding, then that meant that the rest probably had to do with what Leon had described to their therapist in a recent check-in. Recollections about things having to do with Sycamore. It was a can of worms he didn’t want to break into. Which was the worst part: He didn’t want them to be involved. It would’ve been perfect if the two of them could’ve just skittered off somewhere private forever.

But now it was his job to know things, so he could only store the concept away within the annals of his memory for later use.

”Can I… Ask you again, about what you dreamed yesterday? I don’t want to, so if you answer with any kind of soft no, I’ll take it. But… If it was him? That would mean you saw him before I did. For the first time in like, twelve? Years? I know… It isn’t really him. But, if you did… I’d love to know if he still…”
He wanted to know because, despite every little bit of pain he’d put Casey through, that little boy still wanted to hear his Father say that he was proud. Proud of the Adept that he’d become, and prouder still of the soldier that he was.

All the times he’d cried, screamed in pain. He wanted to know if Maxwell saw.
”Sorry… Never mind. That’s me being selfish. But…-”

The elevator outside dinged, sliding open with a whirring noise.
Company…
Without turning around the corner, someone knocked on the half-open door.
”Hellooo? Casey?” Ed’s somewhat weak voice came from outside the door.
He sighed, shaking his head.
”Hey… Close the door for a second? Just talking about something real quick.” Casey said, speaking out into the hall.

Ed made an “oop” noise, and quickly swung the door closed to wait for his permission to enter. Casey took a deep breath.
”It’s Ed. Mia’s with her. Probably here to apologize. I’ll tell them to come again another time if you want. We don’t have to deal with it right now.” he offered, whispering to Trisha as he held her tightly.

Trisha leaned in closer to him, smiling slightly. While she didn’t really want to talk to Ed and Mia right now, she also wasn’t going to want to do it tomorrow. Or the day after. In a way today had already been ruined, with the cats and the waking dream. She’d rather just deal with it all today.
“I’d like to get it over with, so it’s not hanging over us. But thank you,” she said softly, leaning in to lightly kiss him.
“For being so considerate.”

She hesitated just in front of him. She felt a little bit more comfortable in… them. In being able to talk about things. Just a little bit.
“He did… I think. It was all about you,” she whispered, before pulling back a bit. Her hands came to rest on his arms, lightly squeezing.
“Let’s let them in? Or… go talk somewhere else, if we need to?”

Casey shook his head.
”We’ll talk in here… Can you get me the first-aid kit out of the bathroom here?” he pointed toward it, then held up his significantly bloody hand.
”When I saw you lost in the dream, I nailed myself to see if it was the cats again…” he said embarrassed.
”I’ll let them in, just… I would love gauze and alcohol.” he smiled. As he stood up, he was still holding onto her with his good hand underneath her thighs.

Gently, playfully and as if you suggest she get moving, he patted her ass with his gloved hand.
”Pleeeeease?”

Trisha gaped at his hand for a moment, head slowly shaking. Had he just been sitting there with his hand bleeding the whole time? Not saying anything? Seriously?

His hand was bleeding everywhere, but he still had the time to play around. Not that she minded. She quite liked it… but not when he was bleeding everywhere! She spun around and grabbed the offending, gloved hand.
“Maybe I should just let you bleed out?” She retorted, holding up his hand in her own and giving it what seemed like an admonishing glare. But then squeezed it, fingers scratching the back of it playfully.
“You’re lucky I really like you. I’m not normally the first-aid kit collecting type.”

She spun back around and hurried over into the bathroom. Thankfully the first-aid kit was stored in the same place as the one in their bathroom, and she knew where that was after last night. She considered opening it for a moment, to just get what was needed, then just lifted up the whole thing. What if there were different types of gauze, or something? So she grabbed the whole kit, turned back around and made her way back into the main office.
“I got it, do you need help with the gauze again?”

Casey took the pack and unzipped it, quickly ripping into it for some disinfectant and a gauze pad along with a wad of cotton gauze to sop up any bleeding.
”Nahhh, thank you Babe. I l-”
He said it earlier… Now he wanted to say it again.
”-like how… Responsive you are. It's a good quality in the military; when you can take instruction under duress.”

He smiled, holding his hand up and rubbing against her cheek.
”I won’t oversay it… Promise.”
He smiled at her, slowly backing away to the door before opening it. Trisha would be able to watch him stare at the people outside the door with a glazed look on his face. Ed’s voice was quiet, almost so Trisha wasn’t able to hear her.

”It takes that?”
His voice was clear enough, and he sounded a bit annoyed, but stepped to the side and allowed the two young women to come into the office before he closed the door behind them.
They both immediately looked at Trisha, and Ed bowed her head subtly toward her. The two of them looked sweaty. Like they’d been in a pool, or working out in a hot gym. But they were both dressed in house clothes; Ed in the typical basketball shorts and a t-shirt while Mia had a crop top and some cute pajama pants with little bears on them.

They both felt off. Like their acknowledgement moved slower than their eyes did. Like the life in their eyes had been drained.
”Hey Trrrisha…” Mia spoke aloud.
Her head was down a little, slumped almost. It wasn’t clear whether or not it was anxiety or their ill-defined habit.

”We… I… I suck, dude.” she said openly, turning her head up to look at Trisha. Her eyes were narrowed, sleepy, drooping… Like she was melting on herself.
”I said stuff last night that I probably meant, but can’t say sober. That doesn’t mean… That you needed to be the stick I tried to beat. So, I’m sorry for that.”
Ed furrowed her brow and sighed.
”Ugh, Mimi…”

Casey laughed, looking at Trisha, then back to Ed.
”Do you even remember what you said?” he asked aloud to Mia.
She only shook her head slowly in response.
”Y’know this really sucks? I get promoted, invite you to my night, try and involve you as much as I can? For your insecurities and your little voices to make the time worse?”

Ed frowned, getting a bit closer to Mia and holding onto her hand. Mia could only avert her eyes from her Brother’s in shame.
”Heyyyyy… That’s not… Fair. Plenty got said that shouldn’t have… Not nice things.” her gaze turned to Trisha. The slow, smoldering ember eyes.
”But it was… All a stupid thing, Mimi… Right?”

Mia looked up at Trisha again. Her eyes were suddenly wide, almost pleading for Trisha’s belief.
”It wassss! It was, it was, Trisha! It was… Me. Casey said… I’m… Not right. Insecure. Stupid.”
Ed shook her head, batting Mia’s arm with her hand as hard as she could muster. It wasn’t.
”Stooop. The… Self pity shit is what makes it… Y’know, like, we should… Just own it.”

Trisha frowned. Obviously, she wasn’t happy to be having this conversation, even though she’d agreed to having it now. She didn’t like the fact Mia had forgotten when she remembered, the self pitying, the way Ed looked at her. She felt tense, pushing down her immediate response - yes it was all you, you ruined it, I wouldn’t have said anything if you didn’t act like that.

But she looked over at Casey, and she knew he wouldn’t like that. He’d said last night he wanted her to apologise, even though they hadn’t really discussed it. She couldn’t really relate to the hurt she’d caused - what she’d implied was just her reality - but she’d caused it. It was just really hard to admit that.
“I was annoyed because you couldn’t appreciate what you have,” Trisha gestured to Casey, and then Ed.
“It was all just self pity. Some of us don’t have that. I’m not close to any of my siblings, my mom lives on the other side of the country, so I was-” jealous. “Annoyed and drunk.”

She took a few steps closer to Casey, stopping before she was properly close to him. She clasped her hands together in front of her tightly, nails digging into her skin. It was difficult for her to not just do what she normally did, and continually escalate. But she was trying. She’d promised Casey she would try, and he was right there.
“I shouldn’t have said what I did about your dad. I won’t repeat it but… I’m sorry. None of it was true, so I’m sorry I lashed out and said it. I didn’t mean it.” She didn’t look much less tense having managed to get it out. It was like admitting to a failure, and to being at fault.
“But if you don’t even remember what you said, and think you meant it, then you didn’t just imply it. You outright said it.”

Casey waved his hand.
”She remembers what the fuck she said. White Lux is good for storage.”
Mia’s face dropped, eyes squeezing together as she prayed to wake up from a bad dream.
”I really wanted it to end… I thought I was good, and… Then you guys were talking about Daddy, and I wished he was there. And he wasn’t. And rather than just… You know.”

She paused for a second before hiding her face in her shirt. She did her best to wipe away the tears, but against the wet cloth it was just spreading the moisture.
”F-fuck… I really want to be your friend, Trisha. And I accept your apology, and I really hope that you accept mine, and that we can forget it… And I can take your a-a-advice y’know? C-cuz… You’re right. It could be worse. All you did was make a joke, and my feelings got in the way.”

Trisha could… sort of understand the wanting someone there when they weren’t. It wasn’t on the same level, not people who were dead. And she knew what she’d said last night was out of line, even if she couldn’t really relate.
“I accept your apology too. Before all this I was starting to think we could be friends so… let’s go back to that. Forget about it, move on from it, try not to do it again. I don’t want things to be ruined either.”

She was speaking truthfully - she had been starting to like Mia, and would try to make an effort to go back to that. It was easier said than done for someone who held grudges and remembered every little thing used against her… And she struggled with friendships. Like relationships, they rarely lasted for her, and there was a different type of vulnerability there.
“And let’s maybe just… avoid the topic of fathers, cause it’s clearly touchy for y- us. Both of us.” She hadn’t loved her dad, and he hadn’t loved her, but when he died the opportunity for any kind of relationship had been taken away from her.

She then awkwardly held out a hand, not really sure how things went after an apology. She never got them, and generally refused to give them too.
“Should we… shake on it or something? To agree to try move on and forget it?”

Mia let her hand slide forward. It was clammy, and she looked somewhat ashamed of it.
”I’d hug you if I wasn’t so sweaty…” she admitted.
Ed clapped her hands together a couple of times.
”It’s how we do… But I’m happy you guys can admit to one another that you don’t want there to be anything wrong.”

Casey nodded, a slim smile forming over his face as he took a deep breath.
”And no more drinking together. Not unless you’re both… In good spirits.” he chided, turning to move back around his desk.

Trisha was a little glad there was a reason to hold back Mia from hugging her, because it was something she still wasn't really comfortable with it. Especially when she was working to suppress and get rid of the hard feelings she'd normally hold onto for years. She tilted her head towards Casey with a breathy laugh, more like exhaling tension than anything else.
“You were the one encouraging me to drink. I don't normally drink that much unless I'm at a club, or… like Friday." Her tone was relatively light and teasing, rather than being any kind of blame she was throwing onto him.

She definitely hadn't gone into things planning to get drunk at all, but all it took was a couple.
“Ah, I did try and rip out Tansy's hair once at a family dinner while drunk, so maybe I should stick to drinking at home," she joked, even though it was something that had actually happened. But unless anyone was using truth checking magic it would be difficult to tell it was anything more than a joke. Really it was an attempt to lighten the mood, even if that wasn't really her strong point at all. She turned back towards Mia and Ed.
“Tansy’s my oldest sister. She's… a bitch. But if you ever want in on the latest pyramid scheme, I can give her a call."

Mia and Ed both giggled somewhat nervously.
”Geeze, we could use a thinker like that in our marketing division. Is she good at it?”
Ed slapped her arm again.
”She just said she’s a bitch…”
”Bitches kinda sell unfortunately…” Mia replied, shrugging her shoulders and looking Ed in the face a little bit.

But before she could continue, Ed picked the conversation back up herself.
”Oh, Trisha… D-did you… Do you still wanna play games? Once we’re a little more awake, I was gonna… Y’know, go get that computer. Hook it up and stuff.”

Trisha could help but laugh at the image of Tansy marketing the Temple… she would be good at it, actually. She had a massive, rich network and could definitely sell a cult. Something Trisha would definitely like to avoid… though stupid as Tansy could be, she knew how to keep her image perfect and had too much money to be easily bought. Hopefully she wouldn't have to worry about it. She was also a family member Trisha would quite happily never see again as well.

“Yeah, I am, I've got all the time in the world at the moment," Trisha replied with a smile. It did actually sound nice. Her university friends all worked full time and had their own lives, and if Sal was around during any calls they always ended up playing competitive games. When he wasn't… anything chill they played would immediately be made not chill just by Cass' presence. Playing something with Ed and Gin seemed like it could be quite relaxing.
“So you're being let off cuddling duties long enough for it?" she joked, hands coming together behind her back to hide the way she rubbed her fingers together almost anxiously. She looked over at Casey again.
“I’m sure Case will be glad there's something I can do so he can get a break."

A joke, of course. Well… part of her said it to fish for some more reassurance that it wasn't the case. The stupid, overly anxious part.

Casey’s face had been neutral until she said what she said. To him, this was the first moment that his newfound ability to read ques actually felt like a benefit and not some strange double-edged sword. His head tilted downward slightly, so that he was looking at her from slightly below his brow. A playful smile split across his lips.
”Shut uuuuup… You think you’re getting away that easy?”

He had his boots up on the long, mostly empty desk that had his half-built pistol on a rag slid to one side.
”All this room? C’mon…”
Mia frowned slightly, clearing her throat.
”As nice as it is to have a but rubbing against you, let her stay in her office… What happens if you get a call or something, then you’ve gotta force her back into her office or interrupt her…”

Casey looked a bit surprised. He was; it wasn’t like he thought Mia paid attention or thought about things like that. But, she was right to a point. As much as he wanted to have her there the whole time, it’d only get more inconvenient the more stuff she started bringing out.

Trisha was smiling softly at Casey up until the point that Mia spoke, when it wavered slightly. There was still a smile, just less of a smile. She knew that Mia was right about this. It was fine when it was just her, even if she would be grumpy at being moved. But if she brought her desktop out? Or used her much worse laptop, only to be forced back into her own office anyway… practically it didn't make sense. Which she didn't like. But Casey did want her there, which was what mattered for being able to accept it. To feel less irritated about it.

“When are you working until?" She asked as she moved to round the opposite side of Casey from where Mia and Ed were standing, so she could still look at them when talking. She loosely wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned into him, face tilting up so she could sort of rest her chin on the top of his head. Even with him sitting and her standing it was a bit of a stretch.
“We might not start until later if Gin's busy with… her work, and Ed has to set up her whole computer in the first place. Maybe by then you'll be done, then you can come sit in my office. I'll only kick you out if I have to have important, private business talks with the bees."

Casey couldn’t help but laugh at that question. When are you working until?
”Working? I’m always working now, my Dear. On call twenty-four seven for all the Temple’s biggest security needs.”
Ed pushed air out from between her lips in a held-in laugh.
”You know what she means…”

His face turned back up toward Ed, and he joined her in a laugh.
”Nuh-uh…”
Both of the other girls laughed, and Ed picked the conversation up again from what she knew.

”Gin works when she wants; and uh… Well, we decided to come up ‘cuz she… Actually texted me. She was pretty adamant we’re playing today.” she laughed.
”So, really I’d just need to get set up and we’d be all set.”

”And my actual watch shift is twelve to sixteen hours, Babe. I’ll be here a while: If hanging out with you means being in your office, I have a neat trick that I can use to make it work. Mia’s kinda right, after all.” he offered to his sister, knowing full well that just like Trisha, Mia needed serious reassurances sometimes. She replied with her eyes, which closed just like their mothers’ always did when she was pleased.

Trisha pulled her head back so that she could actually look down at Casey, just to practically beam at him. There was just something really nice about him being willing to accommodate her so they could still spend the time together. Especially today, after everything that happened. Twelve to sixteen hours was a long time but… she could stick that out with him. So they could go to bed together after.
“If you have a trick for it then it’s much easier than moving my desktop through here. Once is fine, but if I have to keep moving it back and forth it’ll be a hassle. So… I’d really appreciate that, babe. It’ll be nicer if we can stay together.” She moved herself a bit so she could kiss his forehead, before looking over his head at Ed again, still wearing a pretty sappy smile.

“Well if Gin says we’re playing, I guess we’re playing. I didn’t have other plans beside-” clinging to Casey. That was too embarrassing to say. “Checking on the bees at some point. I need to get my computer set up through there too, but I’ll just use the one I brought with me… it already has all the games I own installed. So that won’t take long.”

”Oh, so we can cuddle still too?” Mia asked Ed, a coy tilt of her head to avert the gaze Ed gave back. Their clammy hands pressed against one another, fingers entwining.
”Gin’s gonna hate this.”
Casey laughed and pushed his hands forward, as if to wave the two girls off.

”Yuck! Get out of my office now, geeze… Too much affection in this fuckin’ room. And, before you go?-”
Casey’s voice cut just a little harsher now.
”-There’s gonna be some changes. Some real Gravity. I wanna see you two beat your demon, y’know? And Hari too.”

They both looked a little sad about that. Maybe defeated. Maybe embarrassed. Casey knew it was all of that and more, but he wasn’t going to be able to help himself.
”You know it’s not Her, Case… It's us.”
He nodded.
”I know that’s how Lynette wants you to feel about it. And I respect your bond, but we can’t deny the circumstance of Serenity’s birth. She’s your baby: All three of you.”

He stood, patting Trisha’s hand that was around him to reassure her before moving around the table to bring both the girls into a hug.
”I’m not shoving. Just nudging. And we’ll nudge along. Now, go on.”

He released them, and in unison the two girls spoke.
"Bye Trisha..."

”And we’ll talk more later!”

Casey practically slipped them out of the door, loosely closing it behind him to tilt his head back with a deep breath.
”Those friggin’ girls…”

Trisha watched silently, with a hint of jealousy again. It was difficult not to feel it. They had an older brother willing to support them, to help them deal with their problems without being forceful. Who cared for them. She wished she had that… But it was never possible with the Vanburens. Some were close, but very few of them were really like siblings. While she was able to get financial support from her oldest brother, she knew it was out of some familial obligation rather than any care.

So it was difficult to not feel jealous, even if she knew she shouldn’t.
“You’re a good older brother,” she smiled, pushing down the feeling to at least below the surface. She also made her way around the table, darting right over to him and against him as if just the moments apart were too much. It felt like it.
“A lot of people wouldn’t even bother, give up on them or would just get angry at them-” like me. “You’re… just…”

She trailed off, head tilting up to look up at him with a soft, almost loving gaze. Almost.
“Really amazing. If any of my siblings were half like you we would have a lot less problems now.”

Casey smiled widely back down at Trisha, dipping to kiss her for a moment. He was just doing what he wished people would do for him: Treating him with love and respect.
”I’ll do my best to be there for you like that too… We can make it better.”

---

Trisha’s Office

---

Eventually Trisha was about to drag herself away from Casey to actually go into her office to set it up. Since she was in here, she figured she might as well start setting up the computer they’d provided her with - she planned to use that one mostly for work, and keep more personal stuff to the desktop she already had. But that meant downloading a bunch of IDEs, starting to get a Virtual Machine set up… Transferring files from her personal computer, which she’d do later.

There wasn’t so much needed for that one. The desk was more than large enough for two screens for computer, with her setting up the Temple provided desktop at the door end of the desk and her own at the other end. Everything was plugged in, internet was connected, programs downloading on the other computer, fancy gaming mouse and keyboard she’d gotten as an (unnecessary) gift from Sal one year setup… she was all set.

“Babe, I’m all done, whenever you’re free and want to come through!” Trisha called through to the other room, not bothering to actually look out. She’d heard him talking, presumably on the phone, in French a lot, and figured he’d come through when he actually could. Or wouldn’t, if he was too busy and the trick wasn’t going to work out… that was fine.

She texted Gin that she was ready and got a response near immediately, with a link to a server where they could voice chat while playing. She pulled on her way too expensive headset, leaving the ear closest to the door half off, and joined the active call while opening up the game.
“Uh, hello, can you hear me alright? New setup…”
She hadn’t actually sat down yet, bent at the waist over her desk so she could use the keyboard and mouse more comfortably. She didn’t really want to get comfortable if Casey was going to come through, and just in case it somehow discouraged him from joining… she’d much rather plant her ass on him than the chair, and then she’d need to adjust the height of it… It was just easier to stand.

Gin's voice was bright and friendly in Trisha's headphones, if not a little loud. Nothing a quick adjustment couldn't fix.
“Daaaamn, you sound really nice! Are you running a standing microphone? Or a headset?” Gin asked as Trisha's direct messages began to fill up with download links.
“Also, Ed will be here in a few minutes. So while we're waiting, go ahead and download those. We'll unpack everything in a bit. Unless you know how to install mods to games?”

“Headset. A friend of mine recommended it to me, so I just bought it,” Trisha replied - once again showing her rich girl side, where she hadn’t even checked the price before getting it. Though she could be money conscious, had to be the times Ezra squeezed her allowance, but it was never that bad. She adjusted Gin’s sound down a bit first before clicking through all the links, starting up the download. It was fast - faster than even the super expensive internet back at Sabrina’s place.
“I’ve modded games before, I assume Minecraft is the same? It’s just dragging stuff into a specific folder, right? Not like I need to code anything.”

Though she could do that too if she needed to, she’d just prefer not to. She tilted her head to the side as she found the Minecraft folder, and the one underneath it very obviously named Mods. Her body wiggled from side to side as she started to copy the mods across, still standing with her elbows resting on her desk.
“Why so many? Is the base game bad? I haven’t even played that.”

”It’s kind of… Boring? For me? There’s not enough going on, I guess. Maybe it’ll be too much for you and Ed, so we can turn some on and leave some off. Like, magic’s kind of simple. I want crazier stuff, so I like using thaumaturgy. And that only comes from a mod. Or, my older brother Brey likes better combat, so… Like I said, we can tone it down.”
Her voice was bubbly, happy and oddly frenetic considering they were just sitting down to play a game.

”Also, don’t mind me… I’m on the treadmill! Gotta keep moving. Hey, Loretta!?”
There was a click, and then Trisha was alone without any sort of noise. Only for everything to come rushing back with another click.
”Alright, nobody’s gonna bother me. Loretta’s got calls, Brey’s doing his thing… Did you download the app for the bee tracker yet?” Gin asked casually as the crack of a can could be heard near the mic.

Gin was playing on a treadmill? Trisha’s mouth fell open. Seriously? Were all Temple members fucking mad about fitness? Sure, Casey was yet to drag her to the gym with him but… being into it was definitely a running theme. Or maybe it was just her bias with who she was paying attention to?
“I’m fine with the mods, so long as you don’t mind going slow and explaining everything… We’ll see how it goes. And the bee tracker app… not yet. It’s been a chaotic day.”

She could’ve, quite easily, but she’d spent the whole time clinging to Casey right until she was setting stuff up in here. There wasn’t really the want to. She leaned over towards one of the drawers near the desk, pulling out the tablet she’d shoved in there. It didn’t take long to navigate to the message Gin had sent, and start downloading the app. Would it work as well on a tablet… she wasn’t sure, but she really didn’t want Temple tech on her phone.

But the sound of the can cracking open on the other end reminded her of something - namely, her own thirst, which had been in the background for a while. When did she last drink? Actually, had she eaten? Yes, they had something to eat, she hadn’t completely forgotten…
“One minute-” Trisha hit the mute button on her headset, twisting her head towards the door to call through it… hopefully Casey would hear her. White Lux had to help with that, right?
“Casey, mind bringing me a drink when you come through? Thanks, babe!”

She could definitely get it herself but… she wasn’t thirsty enough to be bothered. She turned her mic back on.
“I’ve got the bee tracker app downloaded now.” Trisha grabbed the login Gin had made for her too, tapping it in. As the display came up, a few curious bees hovered down towards it, landing on the screen and messing it up. She laughed.
“The bees approve of your work- Well, I think they just like the screen, but a couple of them are checking it out. This is going to make things much easier for me. I can find it all out manually, but it takes time. There’s a lot of signals I need to decipher to get the full picture.”

”I’m happy it’s useful. I added a few more cameras and sensors to the main flower patch. Someone working on the project wants to see how their flowers hold up under the scrutiny of thousands of bees. We’re thinking that the scaled up ones need to be manually pollinated the first couple seasons to contend with the fact that we don’t have enough bees right now.”
Which was fair enough; if those “giant” flowers were used to being pollinated by bees that were normal sized, then sixty thousand miniaturized bees may only be good for a couple of them.

”So when that time comes, we’ll probably ask your help: We don’t want them getting hurt or crushed by a giant cue tip, so they’ll need to be directed away from the big ones. Also? They’ve got a really cool pattern going on in box four. You should be able to pull up the cam.”

Casey wandered into Trisha’s office with a can of seltzer and a can of soda, holding both up as if to ask her preference.
”I’m gonna be a little bit longer…” he said at a level so quiet, Trisha absolutely wouldn’t be able to hear him through her headphones.

Thankfully Trisha had been wearing the earpad nearest the door half off, so she just about heard what he said. She leaned towards him to take the can of soda with a smile, putting it down on the desk and catching his hand in her own. She wriggled her fingers between his and curled them round in a gentle rubbing motion.
“Alright, but don’t take too long, I’ll miss you too much,” she smiled sweetly, bringing his hand up to her lips to kiss it, before letting go.

“Obviously I’ll help keep the bees out of the way, I can’t let them get crushed- shit, that is an interesting pattern.” Trisha turned back to her computer, and went back to talking to Gin as if there hadn’t been an interruption and she hadn’t forgotten to turn off her mic during it. She’d played around with the app a bit and pulled up the camera for the fourth box. The bees were working away, comb spiralling out. It had started to go up in layers too, an intricate weaving pattern. It was small at the moment but… she could see the bees' vision.
“They’re really enjoying the extra space. The hive box I had before was too small, but I was working with what I had. They’re forming the comb a lot faster than normal… But it being Winter helps. They’ve all been bored, and I don’t have much to call them for. They’ll be properly producing honey soon.”

Trisha paused, realising she’d been rambling a bit, and biting her lip. She knew it was fine, probably. This was Gin, who seemed really interested in the bees. Casey had been interested too. But she was used to people who weren’t interested.
“Maybe when I harvest the first batch you can come watch? It’s a boring, manual process but it’s important for… keeping my magical bond with the bees.”

”Oh, um… Yeah. Sure. I mean if you want me there; I can always watch from the cameras, or watch you from up above while you’re doing it.”
Gin’s tone shifted a bit as she withdrew from the topic slightly. She sighed, cleared her throat and spoke.
”I… Promise I won’t uh… It was a bad day. I’m sorry, I still feel really bad.”

Trisha frowned. Did she mean… the day they’d met. Honestly, surprisingly, Trisha had practically forgotten about it. So much had happened since. It was still a surprise because normally… normally she held onto these things. Annoyances.
“It’s fine, you already apologised then. So long as you don’t try to touch the bees, it’s fine for you to be there. They’re not like pets and they’re… kind of an extension of me. Sort of. It’s complicated. I think I’d find it weirder if you were watching from above.”

She still wasn’t particularly sold on the idea that Project of Eden members could essentially walk into the Greenhouse and look down on her if she was there. The cameras were a bit uncomfortable, but something she could rationalise. But the visibility of someone watching… Well, she’d just have to get over it.
“If you really feel bad… just use that feeling to be really patient when we’re playing. I’m sure I’ll get a hang of it quickly-” she probably wouldn’t- “but there’ll be a learning curve.”

”I mean I’m a good teacher. I think.”
There was a very loud laugh from the background.
”Suck a fuck, Brey! Trisha’s way smarter than a clod like you. Trisha, listen, I’m not gonna lie there’s like a metric fuckton of stuff. It’s gonna start out relatively simple, but you should almost definitely like… Turn the game on and just fuck with it for a second. Or check out a tutorial? Cuz I suck. I really do, like I’m… I’ve got… I think between active hours playing and dream modules where I can condense time down? Like thirty thousand hours into this game with these mods. I’m… So far gone from where you are.”

There was an automated notification sound to let them both know that someone else joined the group.
”Oh, knight in shining armor… Ed knows the basics, she’s way better than I am.”
A pause rendered silence, and then muffled noise, and a half-intelligible garble from the other side.
”e-r m”

”E-eddy?”
”-EAR M-?”
”Dude… Unplug and plug back in.”

There was another moment’s pause, and then a loud burst of static as the port that the mic was on was left wide open to return white noise from the power of the machine. As quick as it came, it stopped, and both girls could hear Ed’s voice much clearer.
”Did it work?”
”Yeah, it seems like it. Did you hear me? Trisha wants me to be patient while playing a game.”

Ed laughed openly on the other end, her voice sounding fairly energetic.
”It’s cool, dude. Do your thing, just like… Don’t make it miserable while we’re trying to learn. Like, that video you sent me? Can you at least wait until we make the platform before you go off on your own bullshit? Don’t worry Trisha, I got you.” she happily said on the other end.
”Ehm, we.”
”Oh, yeah. Mimi’s got Leon’s computer, so I guess we’re all just doing this now. So, we have your back.”

Trisha laughed, genuinely. She was looking forward to this, and wasn’t too worried if Gin did end up making it miserable. When something was online it was incredibly easy to just quit. Hopefully that wouldn’t be necessary… because with the hard feelings swept away as much as possible, she was going to try to make the most of this. Enjoy herself, get to know them. Allow herself a little bit of hope that she could have a few more people properly in her life.
“Ed’s right, so long as you don’t get upset at whatever we’re doing while you’re off doing complicated minecraft magic,” Trisha said, smiling even though they couldn’t see her.
“Maybe between the three of us we can make a house - or is that setting the standard too high? Too low? I’ve really never played. Oh, maybe I should get everything setup on my other computer too, so Casey can play if he’s not working next time.”

As she was speaking, Trisha started to actually boot it up.
“Do I have to do anything with the mods, or is just having them in the folder enough?” She’d pulled up a guide for the base game, and every mod that she could find one for, on her second screen, but it was a lot to go through.
“If that’s just it, I’m ready to start.”

”House sounds pretty doable. I mean technically the whole first bit seems to be us building a floor.”
”Yeah, you get to twerk the dirt and make wood planks from your trees.”
”What’d she just say?”
”She said you twerk? In the dirt? Pretty simple stuff.”

Gin and Ed both laughed, and Casey stumbled in through the door playfully.
”All the status in the world, you still have to wait on hold for the insurance company… How’s it going?”
”-exe and it should be good.”
The conversations rammed together as Casey spoke a bit louder while Gin was explaining something about starting the game.

Trisha frowned for a moment, but patted the seat behind her to indicate Casey should sit in it. She was still standing, having half forgotten that she was. But the headset wasn’t going to work if she wanted to hear the girls and Casey… which she did.
“I’ll be back in a minute-” she mumbled into her mic before muting herself, pulling it off and turning her head towards Casey, smiling now.
“Have you tried owning the insurance company? It works wonders for getting things sorted.”

As Trisha spoke she went over to a box she hadn’t fully unpacked, just past the desk. She crouched down, pulling out and discarding some random wires and other gadgets before pulling out a standing microphone and small plug in speaker. It was… once again something she’d bought without thinking of the price at Sal’s recommendation before realising she really didn’t have the need for it. He’d claimed it was for if she and Reyna gamed together with the rest of them, then they’d broken up.
But it’d be useful now.

“We haven’t started, but it’s going good, I think. We’re planning to build a house. Even Mia’s playing,” Trisha said as she got it all set up, muting the call as she unplugged her headset and replaced it with the other microphone and speaker, placed with a bit of thought so there wouldn’t be any feedback. She pointed to the microphone.
“They’ll be able to hear you. I can move back to the headset if you want, but then I won’t really be able to… pay attention to both? And then I’ll just end up paying more attention to you than them.”

Casey's face opened up into a sweet expression. One a child receives when they give their parent a piece of macaroni artwork to hang. For him, Trisha's grand enthusiasm toward his presence made a world of difference.
As he watched her flit about hooking things up, his arms tried to tell her to stop without his voice following.

”I mean if it doesn't pick up too far away, so I can take a call and not worry about people hearing. You're real sweet for this, you know? Including me and all…” his torso bent over the desk, and Casey planted a kiss on Trisha's head.

“Of course I'm going to include you," Trisha smiled softly at him, eyes creasing contentedly. If anything, it felt selfish rather than sweet. She'd agreed to game because it should be fun, and she did want to get closer to Gin, Mia and Ed but… she'd always choose his company. This meant she didn't have to.
“The mic doesn't pick up that far. It's designed to block out background noise while letting you just sit normally without having to talk right into it. If you move further back it gets kind of muffled, then if you just push the chair back enough it doesn't pick anything up at all. I can mute it too." Having finished setting everything up, she demonstrated the ranges, from just in front of her desk as if she was sitting, to leaning back, to a few steps. She then moved the chair to where he'd be able to just speak to be heard even from behind her, but it'd be pretty easy to move it out of the range.

After a quick check, she was satisfied that it would all work, stretching back up properly and moving over to Casey. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned into him, burying her face against his chest for just a moment. Then she shuffled her feet towards her chair, trying to drag him towards it and push him onto it so they could sit down - not that she had the strength to do either without him going along with it.
“C’mon, I want to get comfy before I unmute everything and it gets noisy… I hope they haven't already started. They wouldn't, would they?" There was a bit of nervous energy there, even as Trisha tried to play it off as a casual thought. She was too used to just being left behind.

Casey, still on the phone and holding about some bullshit insurance scam that he was apparently now responsible for. All he had to do was get a few pieces of information from the company that he could pass along the pipeline to the finance office… But they were fucking him to death underneath a mountain of line transfers. So far, five, and it’d spanned the course of over an hour.
Things weren’t so bad when he and Trisha were just spending time together, but now she wanted to move and seemed to want him there from the jump until it was done. Not like he didn’t want to be with her that whole time, but business was business. He didn’t want her interrupted because he had work to do.

But here she was, practically hanging off the side of him like they were both kids. It made him smile and laugh rather than get upset. He figured she’d had a hard day, and just wanted the comfort he provided…
”Alright, alright… But you’ll have to get up if I need you to. I still don’t trust the mic being there, or that there isn’t something I can’t… Shit. I’m already a paranoid fuck, Jesus…” his words tapered off until he was mumbling to himself.
Nevertheless, he took up the handset for the telephone and made way for Trisha’s seat. He had it on speaker, and there was a gentle elevator song playing from within. With him, he brought a small box from underneath his desk; it was wood, a crate-like thing, and had heel indents from where whoever occupied the space would usually put their feet up to rest.

Casey still had aches and pains, after all; magical healing didn’t always do a great job putting things back together intelligently. Certain bones were warped forever, organs the wrong size for the space provided and nerve endings bent and crooked so that they pinched naturally. It was a little bit of relief to his knees and hips, at least… Especially if she really was planning on sitting on him more.
Trisha wasn’t heavy… The pain was a small price to pay, as was the inconvenience. He was happy to hold her. Casey slid the box into place under Trisha’s desk and assumed the position of seat cushion. The handset went on the desk where he assumed it wouldn’t be picked up by the mic, and finally patted his lap.

”C’mon, Cutie. Time to get in the mech… Or, whatever? Plug in? Lock on?” he grinned up at her jokingly.

Trisha's eyes went up towards the ceiling in what was probably an eye roll, but the effect was ruined by her giggling and bright smile. It was much easier to relax with him there - even if this was her office, it was still an unfamiliar place just now. Especially after what had happened today, and the general lack of sleep, it put her slightly on edge. But now… she felt like she could fully relax and enjoy herself. She was safe.

“I like locking on most,” Trisha laughed. She climbed onto his lap, cuddling into him at first before turning towards the desk to get comfortable. It was a bit awkward with how his legs were - but it would’ve been either with the size difference, there was no way she could hang her own over his and sit normally. She ended up crossing her legs, resting mostly on his thighs.
“Speaking of mechs reminds me of… there were these three in the coven who’d make this Spider mech together. It was… weird. Super weird, but surprisingly effective.”

She shrugged and then pointed to the mic, her finger hovering over a small button on the base.
“Tap this and the mic will be muted. I can do it quickly, I can also do it with my keyboard… If needed. You can just move me however you want if you need to get up, or if you’re uncomfortable, or anything.” She twisted her head back towards him to smile at him, still that little bit of nervous energy there.
“Alright, I’m going to unmute.”

Trisha leaned towards her desk, tapping a few keys. Instantly the previously quiet computer came to life as the call was unmuted, and quiet game music also started coming through the speakers.
“Uh, sorry, Casey came in… I missed most of what you said, Gin, can you repeat it? Then we can actually get started…” She glanced behind her at Casey again.
“Oh, also, I changed my setup, so he can hear everything. We’ll have to postpone the Casey complaints session to next time!” She joked, laughing - she definitely didn’t have any complaints about him. But she didn’t want it to come as a shock to the other three that he was there.

”That won’t stop me, I could smell him through the computer.” Gin’s smirk was audible through the microphone. Ed laughed in response, and Mia’s faint voice echoed.
”She said Casey smells…” Ed relayed, causing Mia’s laugh to get a little louder in the background.

Casey leaned forward a little bit, turning in the chair to get himself nice and close to the microphone before burping.
”Tough girl behind the computer, Ginara. You still wearing a diaper during your gaming marathons?”
Gin scoffed on the other end.
”I don’t do that, that’s disgusting!”
Casey grinned an evil grin.
”I’ve been on some recon missions I wish I had a diaper on during. You ever shit in a ditch, Ginny?”

”UUUUUGH TRISHA!? Get rid of him, we don’t want him anymore.”
Ed and Mia were both laughing uncontrollably at this point.
”Let him cook, Gin! We don’t get many war stories.”
Casey shook his head, twisting himself back so Trisha would be in front of the computer again.
”Nuh-uh. Play your game.”
As he spoke, his hands seemed to grip a little tighter on Trisha. Just enough to know that he was, in fact, a bit agitated. Why? When he’d brought it up himself? Sometimes the mouth moved faster than the brain… It wasn’t the toilet situation that was the trigger, so much as it was just a link in a chain that stretched a mile long between himself and doom.

Going any further down the chain was just asking for trouble, so… No stories. He wasn’t drunk enough, surely.
”So, Trisha? There’s an executable in the main game folder that has the same image as the launcher? But it’s named BLE.exe?-” she began to explain. ”I’ve got everything packed up in that custom launcher, so we’ll just leave everything on and see if you guys like it. But you can just hit it, and then when the server is on, it’ll drag you in.”

“Oh, that easy? Got it.” As she navigated to the main game folder and found the executable, double clicking it, her other hand resting on one of Casey’s. She gently rubbed her fingers against the back of it. She didn’t really know how else to bring him any comfort, and she definitely wasn’t going to verbally bring it up - she wouldn’t even if they were alone. She didn’t really get it, but she did get not wanting to talk about things.

“Done. And sorry, Gin, but he’s staying, he’s far too comfortable for me to get rid of. You’ve got your treadmill, I’ve got my boyfriend, we all enjoy our different ways of gaming.” After she said that she leaned back, neck bending back and head twisting to the side to press a light kiss to Casey’s jawline. Then she moved back into a ready position, hand over his giving it a light squeeze before moving to her keyboard.
“So now I’ve opened it I just… wait for you to start up the server?”

”That’s it. Ed, are you and Mia ready?” Gin asked, a little huff of air escaping her as the treadmill began a running cycle.
”Uhhhh… Nnnno. I’m hungry.”
”You just ate?” Mia said in the far background.
”Fine, fine! We’re ready then, I gue- No, let me get-”

There was a rumble as Ed pushed up and away from her desk. There was a gentle rubbing, and then a familiar voice.
”I know you’re in there…”

”Get the fuck away from there you son of a bitch!”
There was a loud impact noise, some thwacking, and then Ed’s voice.
”And stay in there, you fuck!”
A door slammed, and then there was some muffled conversation before Ed settled back in.
”Jesus Christ, Casey, how long do we have to keep playing Leon’s game?”

Casey grimaced, holding tightly onto Trisha.
”After a day like today? Not long. I’m going to talk to him about it.”
”Holy shit are we ready yet?” Gin was short of breath, but still tried to giggle in spite of it.

Trisha’s whole body stiffened the moment she heard that voice. Her hand gripped her mouse tightly, and she pressed back against Casey more, even though he was already holding onto her tight enough there was really any gap. It was difficult to stop herself from trembling. Your fault, your fault, your fault. The phantom words echoed in her ears. She’d just suppressed it all. Fuck.
“Yeah, kinda fucked Leon’s keeping a deadly cat in his basement- is it a wolf thing?” Trisha tried to joke, but it fell flat.

She took a deep breath, just about managing to calm down again. It was gone, shut out… sounded like it got a fair beating as well. She laughed a little at that image.
“We’re ready, let’s just go- right Ed? Not like it’s a shooting game, things won’t be attacking us from the start, so it’s fine… They won’t, right? We won’t spawn in and immediately get killed by one of those green exploding things?”

Gin laughed as Trisha panicked. She obviously didn’t know Trisha was panicking, but she did know about it.
”Oh, man… No, Wamp is just… Fuckin’ crazy. He’s not really… Keeping it there. Y’know? Like, the government… Keeps nuclear weapons.” Gin said between breaths.
”But, unlike the real world… You’re safe when we spawn!”

A vaguely unsettling segue into the screen showing a big loading bar and a quote.

”The most certain way to succeed is to try one more time.”

T. Edison

And then they were in a world of bright blue. Each of the four characters loading in spawned on a small grassy plane the size of a small room. There was a single tree and a single box.
”Alright… Ed, you and the girls get started. I’m gonna get more Mon- Water. More water.”
Ed giggled.
”Alright… So, you’ve never played, Trisha?”

“Nope, never,” Trisha said. She experimentally moved her character about - which was just the default skin - before jumping around a bit. Then she clicked the mouse and… accidentally punched one of the other characters that she’d jumped near.
“Oops, sorry. Do we just punch things to destroy then… then what? I thought there would be a massive world to explore. Is this because of one of the mods?”

She played around a bit more, figuring out how to open up her inventory. It didn’t seem too hard… then again, she wasn’t playing minecraft for a challenge.
“We’re definitely not fitting a nice house in this space.”
”Yeah, pretty much. What I watched, we’ve got this tree, right? So we should be really careful, cuz if we lose it starting here and don’t get another sapling, Gin has to like restart I think. But like, we can… Get dirt? Like, dig down a block? You just look down and left click hold.”
Her character jumped up and down, then smacked the ground until it popped out a block and she sucked it up. Then she moved over to the area near the tree.
”The video I watched said we should make the platform around the tree wider, so we don’t lose anything.”

Mia’s character looked down and also began to beat the ground.
”Wait, can we fall?”
”Yeah, that’s the whole point, so don’t dig too far down. Only like a block or two. And don’t dig so we can’t get to the tree.”

“Al-right,” Trisha said, furrowing her brow. She moved her mouse to look down, destroying the block right underneath her and pulling it into her inventory. Then she got the one next to her.
“So we get dirt, widen the platform… then what? We just keep expanding until we’ve got a really wide platform and one tree? I don’t-” she cut herself off. She wasn’t going to start questioning how fun this would be from the start.

“I don’t really get it, but sure. Should I just keep digging? If we fall is that, like, perma-death?”

Ed laughed at Trisha’s confusion.
”Not permanent, but whatever you’re holding disappears into nothing, so it's a waste. Once we’ve got a wide enough platform, we cut the tree down and plant more. It's a cycle, we’re gonna start by hand making shit. Gin will be able to, like, make stuff. And while she’s doing that, we’re just gonna make a house and a place to store shit. Eventually we’ll have portals so we can go to real worlds and stuff to get more supplies.”

Eventually the platform was wide enough that Ed deemed it suitable, and built a dirt staircase up the side of the tree.
”So, now we’ll beat the tree up. We’ll get wood, and when all the wood blocks are gone, the leaves will start to die and drop saplings that we can plant. It’s why we wanted the platform, so we didn’t lose any.”
Mia instantly started punching Ed’s character.
”No! NO! Not meeeee!”

There was plenty of laughter from behind as Casey watched on. His hands snuck around her and onto the keyboard to move her forward, then he started punching Mia.
”NO, TRISHA!”

“It’s not me! I’m being framed!” Trisha laughed, wriggling her hand that was trapped underneath his against her mouse. She pushed her fingers up against his to try and stop him from clicking, while reaching over with her other hand to playfully try to pry his hand away.
“I’m a minecraft pacifist, I would never attack you, Mia, it’s all Casey! He’s out of control.” Trisha quite happily threw her boyfriend under the bus, giggling as she did so, body shaking with her laughter.

As she said that, he let go and threw his hands up.
”No! I didn’t, I swear, I don’t even play computer games!”
Mia and Ed were both laughing hard along with Trisha and Casey, filling the chatroom with giggles.

Trisha grinned, eyes narrowing playfully as she turned to look at Casey. Making sure he could see, she held down the left button, going right back to punching Mia.
“Oh my god, Casey?! Stop it- I swear, I’m trying to stop him, but I just can’t! Don’t-” Trisha’s eyebrows raised, lips curving into a wider, teasing smile as she punched Mia enough to kill her. Trisha immediately stole all of her remaining… dirt.
“I can’t believe you! Your sister’s… blocks- haha- are on your hands…”

”Oh my God, Trisha! You’re so fuckin’ rotten!” he laughed aloud, hands moving to begin tickling Trisha’s sides.
”Evil girlfriend! You’re Father Wolf, I can’t believe it!”
Mia respawned and very quickly made way for Trisha, slapping her until she too died; all the while, Casey kept her pinned with his hands.
”Get her, Mia, I’ve got her pinned!”

There was a loud beep from the phone handset, then a voice came over the speaker.
“Hi, my name is Larry with Special Service Claims, how can I help you?”
”Aw, fuck, now? One second, dude…”
Casey moved his hand down to pat Trisha’s thigh.
”Stand up, boo. I’ll be right back.” he said, taking the handset and turning off the speaker.
”-Yeah, hi. My name is Rodney Marco? I was just calling in about a claim having to do with my business?”

Trisha pouted at Casey’s back as he left the room, panting lightly from all of the tickling - she couldn’t believe he’d betrayed her like that! Sure, she’d betrayed him first… but still. She leaned on the desk to catch her breath for a moment before sitting back down, moving right to the front of the chair so she could reach everything fine.
“Casey’s gone, so no more fighting… since it was all him, and he framed me,” Trisha laughed breathlessly, moving her respawned character towards the other two. Her dirt…

“Let’s start beating up the tree while he’s not here to steal my mouse. It is a bit unfair Ed hasn’t died yet, but since I’m a minecraft pacifist, I’ll let it go. I only punch inanimate objects.” She jumped around Mia and Ed a bit, before heading towards the tree.
“Can I just start destroying it?” she asked, even as she started to punch the tree block nearest the ground without waiting for an answer.

”Wait! Trisha… Doesn’t… Doesn’t Ed kind of look like a Tree?” Mia asked aloud.
”No, no ple-”

The laughs and the murder continued, interspersed by periods of genuine effort and coordination. Slowly, surely, between the effort of the three of them, they managed to begin stockpiling wood from the beginning of nothingness on a single, level platform. From there, they learned about rapidly crouching in order to grow the tree quicker, and the three started work on some pretty basic Minecraft architecture.
Before long, there was enough space that they could begin building a house.

Gin had come back since, and with her came automation for certain new blocks. Dirt, stone, wood in greater quantities: She actually wasn’t terrible about explaining how these modified concepts worked in conjunction with the basic mechanics. Thankfully, Ed was there to bridge any gaps.
Now, there were rows and rows of chests with materials being manually shoved into them on scant occasions. Clearly they needed a home…

It was during the planning of this structure, which had been the ultimate goal of the play session, that Casey finally came back to her. Standing in the doorway, he’d brought her a fresh drink and some fruits to eat. Even a slice of watermelon, his seemingly favorite treat for the bees.
”Can we make a dirt level to build it on? I don’t want to put wood on wo-”

”Do you want any of this? If not I’m gonna put it in my little fridge down here before I sit again.” he asked Trisha, unknowingly talking over his sister.
”Tell him to shut up, Trisha. Women are talking.” Mia laughed from the background.

“You can tell him yourself," Trisha shot back with a laugh, turning her speakers back up - she'd turned them down when Casey left just in case it disturbed his call, and because she could just lean forward to hear if needed… but it was loud enough for sitting in front of the computer. Not so much to reach the door well.
“Now he can hear everything. I'm not going to tell him to shut up when he's bringing me good, but…" she tilted her head towards Casey with a smile.
“We’re in important house planning stages, so no taking over again, okay? We've moved past the murder to the building."

The bees in the room, which had settled in various plants both Temple provided and brought by Trisha from her old place, were already making their way over to the fruit. They didn't even wait for Casey to properly enter the room - they weren't human, after all - they just smelled it and went for it, almost all of them immediately gathering on the watermelon and starting to much.
“I’m fi-" she stopped before she turned down the offer of fruit, tilting her head and furrowing her brow for a moment. When had she last eaten? She didn't remember. She'd gotten better generally at sticking to a schedule with that, since she didn't get properly hungry that often, but it'd been thrown off the last few days.

“I’ll have all of it… well I probably won't eat all of the fruit, but I'll have some. Thanks for bringing it for me." she smiled sweetly at him, left hand coming off the keyboard and reaching towards him with little grabby motions.
“Are you all done with your call, then?"

”Yeeees Trisha Bee. I’m all done. And Norm’s active for me, so-” he paused, kicking the door closed with his foot. ”-you’ve got all my attention.”
As she made cute little grabbing motions at him, Casey couldn’t help but beam an enthusiastic smile as he observed her utter cuteness. He was obsessed.
”Hey, no grabbies: Get’cha butt up, lemmie sit back down. I’ll feed you while you go, like a Princess.”

”Caseeeey! You’re so fucking cute, that’s actually disgusting.”
Ed laughed at what Mia said, a shuffle rubbing against her mic as she turned her head.
”Queen of the Cuddle Puddle over here thinks you being cute is gross…-”
There was a pause.
”-Yeah! Yeah, you!”
”I have no idea what you’re referring to.”
”Oh Eddy, Baby? My back is sooooo sore, I was hunched over my desk working aaaaall night…” Ed mocked Mia, pitching her voice up and making it extra raspy.
”Stooooop!” Mia whined in return.

”You’re all gonna make me sick. Casey? Since you’re back, can I ask you something?”
Casey was still coming around the desk.
”Is it about work?”
”Y-yes…”
”Then no, this isn’t an official or secure method of communication, and it’s not been approved by me for use by members to communicate information classified or not.” he spoke very matter of factly, and very plainly to Gin.
”Okay, should I text your work number?” she asked, seeming to take it in stride.
”You can, but I’m not going to answer it right now, so you should wait until you’re done playing games with your friends. Focus on the good things in life, my dear.” he finished, finally coming up to Trisha and patting her on the butt a couple of times while she got up.

Trisha had been quick to stand up, laughing as she listened to Mia and Ed, overall very happy about the idea of getting to cuddle with him again and get fed. And, especially happy that she had all of his attention. In the time she'd been away she hadn't even bothered adjusting the chair back to her own height, just sitting there with her shorter legs dangling.
“Hey, not when we're on call," Trisha joked with a bright smile, catching the hand that had patted her butt with her own. She played with his fingers for a moment before she hopped forward to give him room to sit back down. She spun around and with the other hand pushed his shoulder as if to hurry him and actually push him into the chair… which, again, she couldn't do without him going along with it.

“Casey’s right, Gin, no work talk allowed while we're playing unless it's an emergency. We have a house to build, no distractions… aside from the cuddling and the treadmill." She laughed, making sure to put in that very important aside. Not that Casey should be counted as a distraction, not in the same way work was, and Mia and Ed were playing together.
“I’m a bit of an expert in house decoration now, after choosing the furniture for our place, so I can… well, actually, is it possible to make anything colourful? Can we make carpets? Or is it all going to be dirt brown and wood brown?"

”Gotta dye the sheep.” Gin responded simply. Casey laughed in turn, wondering if she was just focused, or if she was bothered by his lack of desire to know about work. The way he figured, if Furio was still in charge, then she’d wait until she saw him to ask…
So why be treated any differently? Did he not deserve that respect? But he didn’t want to ruin Trisha’s game time by making anything of it. He settled into the seat, threw his feet up on the box, and slid forward to slip Trisha off her feet and back onto his lap.
”There we go…”

As they got into a good position again, Casey was free to tilt back slightly. His hand dipped into the bag of grapes, ripping one of the vines out to pull directly from. His large hand held it up to Trisha for her to take a bite.
”So, sheep… Wool… Uh, we…”
”The… Wait! We can get sheep to spawn the boring way or the cool way, which do you guys want to do?”

”Tell us more.”
”Boring is going into alchemy and making magic dirt that enables mob spawning on the applied blocks.”
”Like how the normal game works… Okay, I’m almost scared of what the cool way is.”
Gin’s laugh was pure evil.
”We go into blood magic and sacrifice ourselves to uh… Baa’phomet? The… Sheep God? And then we’ll be able to trade blood for sheep eggs that spawn fully grown sheep of whatever color you want.”

“There's Gods in Minecraft?" Trisha asked with a laugh. She tilted her head to eat the grapes offered to her, letting her character on the screen stay stationary for a bit longer as she lay back against Casey's chest with a contented sigh. They were just planning right now, so she might as well enjoy the comfort while chatting.
“That sounds faster and more fun. As long as we dump everything we're holding into boxes we won't lose it right? So it's not really much of a sacrifice… I've always wanted to try blood magic. What do we have to do for that?"

The last bit was a joke, but she had always been jealous of the adepts with access to it. Adepts of all kinds, really, with the option to learn and develop whatever spells they wanted. Not that she'd trade the bees for anything. As she thought of them, her gaze moved over to the bees on the watermelon, their happy pheromones adding to her own relaxation. They'd devoured a good chunk of it, and most of them had rolled off onto the plate, just lying there in various positions. Some were even on their backs with their little legs splayed out.
“You’re spoiling them," Trisha said softly to Casey, turning his attention towards the barely moving, far too full bees as she ate another grape herself.
“They’re going to get fat with all the watermelon you're giving them. Look at them, they can barely move."

Casey bit a grape open, ripping it in half with his teeth before sliding it toward the bees.
”Eat, eat eat. Get fat, make Momma lots of honey. Enjoy yourselves.”
His big finger moved toward one, rubbing into its little abdomen. Its legs pressed back into the finger, sticking on with their little hooks still covered in watermelon.
”Of course I spoil them. I told you, they’re part of you. You’re spoiled, so are they.”

”No Gods in the base game: Shit is definitely a Mod of the highest order.” Ed laughed from behind the computer.
”We’re gonna kill ourselves then? That’s kinda brutal, Gin, I’m game for it.”
One could hear Gin’s smile as she spoke on the other end.
”Everything’s like… A project on a project. It’s not fast, Trisha, it’s… We’ve gotta… Like, there’s refinery layers and shit.”

”Is this one of those factory games you keep trying to tell me to play, Gin?”
”It could be, Dude. You’d love that shit: I know you love making automation. If you were a Blind, I bet you’d be a mechanical engineer.”
”I’d probably be a fuckin’ Staff Sergeant in the Army. Never would’ve made it to CW.”
”You’d still be gay too.”
”I am not the gay one here, Carpeteer…”
”I’ll have you know we shave one another thoroughly-”
”EDDY OH MY GOD-”

”I’ll file that image away.”
”Ginara!?”
There was a breakdown of laughs again as Casey tried his best to not pick Trisha up and abscond from the conversation.
”This is too much for me…”
”You literally asked for this.”

“Oh my god, I don't want to know either," Trisha leaned forward, bringing her knees up so that she could press her face into them. Her body shook with laughter as she tried her best not to think about it all. Not that she was a prude at all, or wasn't experienced in an absolute variety of things but… there was just something about hearing about others. Or whatever this was.

“Hey, hey, go back a bit, Mia, did you just call my boyfriend gay? Are you trying to imply something? Cmon, he can be at most ninety percent gay," Trisha said with a light laugh. Her legs dropped back down, and she turned her head around to smile warmly at him. She reached up to stroke his cheek, before playfully squeezing it. As the bees that weren't full moved over to the grape he'd pulled apart for them, her smile grew even warmer, softer. They were munching on it happily, while a few that were full had meandered over to Trisha, crawling onto her shoulders and then Casey's to just rest on them both.

“I’m glad you're the current you, not a mechanical engineer or… anything else." she said softly. Maybe it was partly the specific job Gin had suggested - mechanical engineer, a minor trigger, since it was her mother's job. But she did genuinely like Casey as he was. She'd like him if he was blind too, of course.
“But if you enjoy that kind of thing, maybe I can set something up for you to join us next time?" As she spoke, Trisha's hands came back to her keyboard, moving her character around a bit.
“Let’s… let's move on, back to sacrificing ourselves to the Minecraft gods! Before Casey really decides he's had enough… So, what do we do, Gin? Start with killing ourselves? I'm ready."

”We need a Bloody Grindstone. Which means we need a Bloody Stone-”
Ed and Mia immediately broke into song.
"Like a bloody storm, atsuku like a bloody stone! Ketsumyaku ni kizamareta innen niiiiiiii!"

”Oh my God you two have zero lives put together. Come here, you’re the fuckin’ Bloody Stone!”
Trisha could watch Gin’s character pull out a stone block before running toward Ed. She proceeded to pummel her until she died, then followed up on Mia before turning to Trisha. There was a clear streak of red that now prominently sat on the corner of the block.
”Objective complete…”

“Gin, what the fuck?" Trisha's mouth dropped open. She looked at the screen, feeling an impending sense of doom. Did Gin just need to kill the two of them?
“Remind me to never piss off Gin," she muttered to Casey.

She very quickly got over the shock, though, stealing everything Mia and Ed had dropped before they respawned. At the same time she moved herself away from Gin.
“So you can just use this to make a bloody grindstone, right? You don't need to beat me with a stone too? I know I agreed to sacrifice myself, but I'd rather it be on my own terms." She was laughing a bit by the end.
“I have enough of a life I deserve to live a little longer."

”Yeah, yeah I can make it…” she paused for a moment.
”Wait. No. I need three more stones. Sorry Trisha.-”

“No, no, no-"
Trisha was beaten to death with a stone, and then Mia and Ed as soon as they respawned. But after the necessary murder, they went back to working together. Gin did what she had to for the blood magic (after a revenge killing by the other three), and they started building the foundation of the house. There was a lot of learning involved, and Trisha fell to her death a few times trying to build the house multiple stories high, but it was fun. She was really enjoying herself.

They took a brief dinner break, where Trisha basically had to be dragged away from the screen when the food they ordered arrived. She forced herself to get through what was really half a meal, with very little appetite for it, before going back to the game. There was no way she’d be able to rest until they got this all done.

Building, murder, ritual self-sacrifice to the sheep God, coordination, a couple of arguments about appearance that got resolved with murder and laughter… Eventually, they completed the house. By then it was the middle of the night.

“And… we’re done!” Trisha put the last block on the roof, before hopping down the little set of stairs she’d made herself at the back of the house. She moved her character backwards to properly look at what they’d all built together, gaze moving away from the screen towards Casey with a bright smile.

Surprisingly, two nights of little to no sleep, Trisha wasn’t showing any signs of flagging. If anything, she seemed to get more energetic the further they got into house building. It was mostly visible in the brightness of her eyes and the way she didn’t slow down while playing, rather than any extreme body movements that would’ve disturbed Casey while she sat in his lap. She was engrossed in the game, just like she got when she started anything that she could see a clear path through. Studying, gaming, beekeeping…

“It’s nice, right? We did a really good job… well done, everyone,” Trisha said, turning back towards the screen and the microphone now.
It was a square, three story house - at Trisha’s insistence - with a little gated field to its right that housed sheep in the colours of the whole rainbow. There were windowed double doors at the front, with the exterior made out of a red brick that gave it a rustic look, with sections of wood aesthetically interspersed along with a wooden roof that they’d managed to make look like a proper house roof… as much as was possible in a game where everything was blocks.

“So, do you want a tour of my- our, sorry, we all made it- house, Babe?” She wriggled a bit in Casey’s lap, leaning back against him again with her arms stretched out to still reach her keyboard. A more relaxed, languid position even though she didn’t seem tired at all. She really didn’t feel it. But it was nice to cuddle up a bit again after hunching over her keyboard for a while.
“I’ll show you all the secrets in it.” As if he hadn’t been watching the whole time they were making it.

As it happened, Casey hadn’t been paying his full and total attention to what Trisha was doing. It was fine, he thought, for them to spend so much time together. He didn’t even mind doing it here, even though his aching knees and hips long ago went numb from the awkward hunching position she’d taken… But it was only natural that eventually, one would seek a little shut-eye. Just a tiny bit; not that he was much of a snorer! But as she shifted in his lap, his head jolted forward.

Driving his chin downward into the top of Trisha’s head, Casey clamped down on his own tongue, causing him to moan out in pain as being awake all flooded back into the searing agony and the iron taste of blood in his mouth.
One hand gently moved up to Trisha’s head, gently rubbing it as he realized he’d probably half concussed her. The other went for a napkin from dinner, which he shoved in his mouth to catch the blood trickling from multiple bite wounds.

”Ohhhhw… Ohw phak hahe… Uhm’gd… M’shf’kin shry, Uh fgn… Dzhd uhf, uh shrd m… Ah uh ohe?” he spoke with a muffled accent full of paper towels.

Trisha hadn't realised that Casey had fallen asleep, too engrossed in the game to look behind her. If she'd known… she would've woken him up in a more normal, gentle manner. With her head far away from his chin.

“Fuckkk," Trisha groaned, curling forward as her head throbbed. It was difficult to think through the pain, spreading down to her eyes to the point she was squinting. For a few minutes she was just letting out quiet, pained whimpers and leaning her head slightly into Casey's hand. Did the gentle rubbing really help? Well, not with the pain, but it was a comfort as the throbbing began to lessen enough to process what he'd said.

Well, half of it, just about.
“I’m fine, I think…" Trisha said softly, unfurling herself and twisting around to actually look at him through slightly squinted eyes. He'd hurt himself too… a little guilt trickled in there, but she squashed it. It wasn't her fault. Not that she was blaming him either, it wasn't a big deal.
“What do you have in your chin, steel?" she managed to half joke, tilting her head to one side with a wince. Movement still hurt. But her vision wasn't so bad, she didn't feel sick, she wasn't dizzy… not a concussion. She'd be really impressed if he'd managed to give her a concussion like that.

Her hands moved up to gently hold his face, thumbs rubbing just underneath his jaw. She couldn't quite smile, it was closer to a grimace, and she leaned closer, looking at his napkin stuffed mouth.
“I didn't realise you'd called asleep, should've been more careful… do you need something else for that?"

Casey mustered up what was probably a smile in return. Mouth being so full, it was hard to tell, but having her comfort him despite accidentally hurting her made him feel so much better. It wasn’t like anything he’d had before, that she hadn’t gotten mad and yelled or…

He didn’t say anything. He just curled his head into her and hugged Trisha tightly to his chest. It was a long moment before he pulled away.
”What’s happening over there?” Gin’s voice grumbled through the speakers. Her voice had gotten a lot lower over the night, and now she was so rumbly that she almost sounded like a different person altogether.
”Judging by the cracking noise and the mushmouth, either their chair broke or Casey mashed his face off something.”
”Do you remember the time we were in the Boris Bog and Junior tripped him? I guess I should’ve recognized that sound.”

”Hah- wah FUHFH UHF.”
”Don’t talk with your mouth full, you putrid fucker.”
”Kah-ah-ehr? KAHAHEHR! KER ER HERH!-” Casey grunted finally pulling the now bright red wad of tissue out of his mouth. ”You fucking… Crazy bat…”
”I’m glad we’ve found our manners Caseau. Now were you saying Caramel? Or were you telling me to kill myse-”
”Ohhhhh, stuff a cork in it and decide for yourself, Ginara…” Casey laughed, stuffing more tissue into his mouth.
”Ih-ohe hiff viph, Frpha… Fhu he hur fingh… Hauhe?”

Casey finally leaned in closer to the screen, trying to see what he could.
”Raff Uh hrmbr wuh… Goah Goh…”

“Babe, I can hardly understand anything you're saying," Trisha said softly, unable to hold back a slight laugh at it. She could get the gist of… some of it. But a lot of it sounded similar, and it could be so many words. Her head still kind of hurt too. She was a bit confused too, with the way Gin was speaking… a bit different from normal. Maybe it was because she'd hit her head, she was hearing things differently?
“The chair didn't break… just my head and his jaw."

She shifted herself again, gently caressing Casey's cheek before moving her hands back to the keyboard and mouse. She leaned a bit to the side so that Casey could more easily lean past her and also look at the screen.
“Since I can't understand, I'm just going to assume you're telling me how amazing our house looks. All of our blood- literally, I died a few times-, sweat and tears went into this. Look at the roof! I spent so long on it."

She was able to actually smile, tilting her character's vision up to take a proper look at the roof. It was pretty nice, a proper pointed roof as much as possible with the blocky base. As the throbbing in her head continued to lessen she got more animated again, still strangely energetic for all the lack of sleep - and it wasn't like she'd had any coffee, or really much sustenance to fuel it.
“Want to see inside? It's even nicer. There's even… well I'll show you. But look, we've got all of our sheep, but you can get other animals, so hopefully we get more next? I'd love a whole farm."

”We can totally sack enough sheep when we convert into Tauro and Baski, then… We could do the Bear, the Wolf, uh… There’s like fifteen Gods or whatever. Horses, fish and shit… But, listen; I gotta go. Work’s calling and if I don’t answer it, we’re getting FUCKED up and that’s just not gonna be good.”
”Yeah, Mia’s napping too. Are you gonna leave the server on?”
”Do titties bounce when you run?”
”Not ours…”
”Ugh, whatever… Yes, I’ll leave the fucking server on. Goodnight, my zombie bitches.”
”Goodnight, Grandpa.”
”Guh-hih G’mpha!”

“Goodnight, Gin, careful not to break any bones while you're getting up," Trisha laughed. At least Gin didn't turn the server off… she hadn't even shown Casey the house, and she really wasn't that tired yet. There was still plenty her and Ed could do without Gin around.

But it was late, and there was a slight, warm fuzziness over her thoughts that came with the late hours and slight sleepiness… only slightly. She leaned back, tilting her head to whisper softly in Casey's ear.
“Mine bounce when I run.” she giggled immediately after, leaning down and pressing her face into Casey's neck. It was so stupid, but she couldn't really help herself… she eventually stopped giggling and pulled herself away, back to looking at the screen.

“Do you know anything about the other animal Gods, Ed? I guess we can just extend the house more, or make more animal pens in preparation… well first, the tour. Showing off our hard work." She moved her characters forward, opening the front door, and stepping in. It was a large entrance hall, with corridors going off it and even a set of cool winding stairs in the middle going to upper floors. Decorated in a mixture of reds, wood browns and blacks - which Trisha had fought against being the main colour.
“The bottom floor’s common areas… storage, crafting, all Gin's magic stuff. The top floor we each have our own room! So we stopped killing each other over how to decorate… What do you want to start with? My room, or save the best till last?"

Casey stared at the screen, taking it all in as he realized he must’ve been out for way longer than he should’ve been. He remembered the foundation being completely different, like it was a warehouse or a courtyard, he wasn’t sure.
The horde of multicolored sheep constantly bleating sent him reeling into an Alpine countryside, an old shepherd in his scope as he watched the old man wholly consuming one of the flock without breath or rest. It wasn’t pleasant, and he reached his arm out to turn the speakers down. They sang their song without pause, but at least the noise wasn’t filling up the room.

His head turned, and he spat the next wad of tissue out into the trash can.
”The good stuff for last… I thought that was an established human pattern…”
He moved his tongue around a bit, not tasting nearly as much blood. He figured whatever wounds were probably stuffed with tissue, so there’d be no more streaming down his throat.
”Do you really need that many sheep? It’s like… I don’t know, farms… Make me feel weird. I know it’s weird.”
”Is it ‘cuz of Nannie Morgan?” Ed’s voice could still be heard well despite him having turned the speaker down.
”Nah… A lot of Europe. The clean-up.”

The cleanup of one of the most horrible and strenuous tragedies the world had ever seen… The human cattle trains, the bad business… He kept thinking about the sheep, even though it was just a stupid game. A silly mechanic meant to just get you something, from what he understood. An easy way to farm.
For once, Ed didn’t have a quip. Few had forgiven, but none had forgotten. She’d had plenty of family members wrapped up in the nightmare of her own from her Father’s side.

Clearing his throat, Casey tried to push past it.
”Sorry, sorry. I think I want you to show me the stuff you’re most proud of, Babe… So that I know what’s actually important, and what’s just Gin being a psycho.”

“We can move the sheep. We need one of each colour but they can be further away," Trisha said, as she turned her character around to shut the house door. It seemed to dampen the bleating a bit more. She then took her hand off the mouse, putting it over his and gently squeezing. It was possible to move and look around with just the keyboard, and one hand, so she moved our character forward and down the hall on the ground floor.
“Storage, storage, craft room- we all use that-, more storage," she said as she walked past open doors, looking in briefly. These ones were mostly plain, with walls lined with chests or craft stations and forges. The next door was closed and she didn't bother opening it.
“That’s Gin's crazy magic room. She said not to go in there, and I don't want to risk exploding or something."

She continued moving forward, fingers lightly scratching Casey's hand.
“But this is my communal masterpiece. Well, Ed and Mia helped a lot… but it was my idea." She opened the door and moved her character into a large room. The walls were made of warm, red wood, with a grey stone section sticking on the left wall. It had a large fire at the bottom, indented in and lighting up the whole room with a soft warmth. Two couches, made of wood blocks with red wool as the seats, faced each other with the fire beside them and a table in the middle, of alternating dark and light wood. The walls were lined with bookshelves, with plant decorations dotted about. The wall on the right even had a few little designs on them - bees, and other things. They'd all had fun trying to make pictures out of the blocks. One the wall opposite the door was a large window, the full size of the wall, looking out onto a garden - also part of the room design, in Trisha's opinion, seeing as the three of them had laboured over making it look nice too.
“This is the living room! Not sure if there's any practical Minecraft use but… it looks nice."

Thankful that the door being closed, and moving further into the structure, Casey could relax a bit more with Trisha’s comforting touch. As she moved the camera through the structure, or the character behind it, he was gently twisting his head left and right. It continuously brushed his clean-shaven chin against her shoulder in an equally comforting manner.
His eyes followed the massed storage, and watched her make her way into the common room she was so proud of.

”Huh…-” he intoned gently, leaning in a little more. ”-Reminds me of the house in New York… That’s peak comfy, Babe. Makes me think of my Nana and Papa’s house. Did Mia do that fireplace?” he asked, curious to see if it looked so similar to a structure Trisha had never seen on purpose.

“We did it together, so she had a lot of input into it," Trisha replied, tilting her head against his. She hadn't realised there'd be any real life inspiration there, seeing as she'd avoided that where possible. But she hadn't exactly lived anywhere that felt like home. This place with Casey was the closest to it.
“I was mostly inspired by movies I've seen and just what I thought would be nice… But Mia could've been inspired by that. Is that… which side of the family are they on?"

An effort to find out more about him, and his family, and the parts that were maybe not so toxic. She wasn't sure.
“Do you still like it, even if it reminds you of their house?" He'd said it was comfy, but that wasn't completely a confirmation… for her at least.

Casey grinned and nodded, thinking about the idea of his little sister subtly suggesting colors, or maybe how to place the block so that it looked just a little more familiar.
”The Richoux estate is kind of like living at the Temple: My Dad’s family. But, they really spoiled us. Even me. It was the only place we went where I didn’t feel different.”
”Do you still remember that time Nana got in an argument with your Mom and Dad?” Ed asked in a matter of fact way.
”Yeah, that’s… It’s definitely the first thing I think of, usually. Mom says she was really worried they were going to take me, and sometimes I wonder how things would’ve gone if they did.”

He turned his face to smile at Trisha.
”But then we probably never would’ve met, huh? If I’d gone to live in New York, I really wouldn’t have any reason to come back here. No festival, no fight, no feeding you a little pie.-” he paused for a moment, both arms twisting into her a little tighter. ”-But, yes. To answer your question, I like it a little more because of that. Makes me feel safe, like its a peaceful place.”

Trisha let out a soft hum, nodding. She was glad he liked it, even if she struggled with the concept of them not having met. Selfishly glad they had, selflessly sad he didn’t have the opportunity of a nicer childhood. As it always did, the selfish feeling won.
“Good… it’s a peaceful place for me too. I’ll keep making you little safe places, and I’ll spoil you too, so that coming back was really worth it. Well, it already was, because you have me, but so it’s more worth it.” She smiled back at him, gaze soft. She really was glad he was here…

“But… the fight would’ve happened anyway! I’d just still have a broken nose.” She laughed slightly at that, looking back at the screen and moving her character. Not that she didn’t have access to private healthcare, but when it came to magical healing… her sister that could do it was out of town. It wasn’t so easy to access.
“Speaking of spoiling, let me show you my room.”

Trisha moved out of the living room of their minecraft house, back down the corridor and up the stairs.
“On the left we have Gin’s room… which is probably just like her magic room. Then the two doors on the right are Ed’s then Mia’s… I’m pretty sure they knocked down the wall between them. I don’t want to go in there… but here!” Trisha stopped her character in front of another door further along the corridor upstairs of the house, tilting her head towards Casey.
“My room.”

She opened the door into a moderate sized room. Looking straight forward, there was a wall of plant life - vine and leaf blocks - climbing up. There was a ladder to the left, but Trisha turned to the left to take in the rest of the lower level of the room. More bookshelves, windows lining the walls, and a small table with two green wool blocks as chairs. The floor was made of various colours of wood.
“It doesn’t look as impressive from down here…” She went to the ladder, going up it, revealing a little loft blocked from the lower half of the room with foliage. She immediately turned around, and looked down.

The floor was, somehow, made in honeycomb patterns from different colours of wood.
“It took me ages to make it look like that,” Trisha explained, before turning around to look behind her at the loft. It didn’t have much to it - two beds put together to form a double one, with green sheets, and two chests at the end - one green, one yellow. A candle lit it in soft light.
“I thought that if you ever played the game it could be… our room.”

From her excited smile and expression, to the way that the room almost mirrored a tiny version of their own home, Casey could only cherish the moment spent with her in her most self-pleased form. Every bit of her moved him in a way that made it hard to feel anything but pleasure. He looked at the little thing she made as well, not wanting to completely glance over the trees for the forest.
They were details she loved, and he saw the way she paused over each one to relay how satisfied she was.
”Aw, Babe… You know how sweet you are? Like a little watermelon woman, I could just-”

Casey tucked his lips over his teeth, proceeding to playfully bite at Trisha with false gums while he made playful eating noises. At the same time, his hands tickled at her stomach to force her into a giggle. At the same time, Ed’s voice became exasperated over the mic.
”Oooooh my God, Trisha!? Trisha, dude, like… Gin said there were a lot of mods in here that she never uses? I fucking found one, dude, it’s like a fucking jackpot…”

“Hey, hey, stop it,” Trisha giggled, curling forward and grasping at the hands tickling her, trying to catch them and get them to stop. She wriggled in his lap as if to try to get away without actually putting any effort into it. She even tilted her head away from him to give him more access to her neck, hair cascading down her other shoulder.
“There’s hardly any of me to eat, don’t,” she whined cutely, quiet enough it shouldn’t be picked up by the mic.

But around it, she managed to listen to what Ed was saying, and as much as she enjoyed playing around with Casey like this she really wanted to keep going with the game too. Not that she couldn’t do both…
“What is it? Don’t just leave me hanging, I need to know… is it something we can do now?” Trisha managed to lean forward just a bit towards her computer and mic, holding on tight to Casey’s hands so she could actually talk without laughing more.

”Actual factual carpentry, bro… Like… These blocks break the fucking game, what the fuck? Dude, we’ve gotta tear the house down. I’m sorry, there’s no other way.”
Ed’s voice was solemn through the microphone, as if she was being exposed to cosmic horrors beyond her control. She wavered slightly.
”Actual fucking furniture, TrishaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!”

“Like… furniture that isn’t completely blocky? It looks like actual furniture? Fuck.” Trisha frowned, looking at her room which she’d spent hours perfecting. Hours making perfect, but… the furniture wasn’t actual furniture.
“Do we really have to tear it down? Can’t we still use the foundation? Just gut the rooms?”

”I mean, at the very least we have to redo the roof, I mean-”
Ed’s character sprinted into Trisha’s room, dropping a literal slope block at her feet. It was so strange, so against the grain in a typical Minecraft fashion that just staring at it alone felt like one was staring at a strange alien artifact.
”-fuckin’ look at it. Is it not worthy of its own… Like… I don’t know, give it a fuckin’ shrine or something? Like, it’s divine!”

Casey sighed slightly, hugging a bit tighter and more sweetly into Trisha.
”You’re not doing it tonight, right? I’m not sure how much longer I can last, especially since I need to test the new wards and things before bed…” Casey intoned, his voice apprehensive in not wanting to ruin Trisha’s time.
”I mean, you don’t have to go to bed with me, but… I’m not gonna stick around much longer. Norm’s still outside in the main office, he’ll be here all night. And you have Ed to make sure the cats aren’t-”

”They shouldn’t be bothering you tonight… Uh… I heard about what happened through the grape vine? After we talked this morning, or I would’ve said before… But since I know, I can do my best to catch them off guard.”
Casey’s brow furrowed.
”Catch… Kane and Abel off guard?”
”They’re still cats, y’know? They get lazy and complacent; so a little M-Strain to mellow them, and then an E-Strain keeps them locked in for a while. And when they wakes up, I H-Strain and he leaves me the fuck alone.”

Casey could only laugh at the idea of the cat getting absolutely blasted on junk and then getting paralyzed for his troubles.
”Well… That’s morbid. Thanks, Ed, I… I mean, that can’t work often, right?”
”Nnnno, definitely not. I worry they may just be… I don’t know, you know how it is with that fucking thing. It looks like it works, but then you turn back and it still has an eye open, and… I don’t know…”

Casey took a deep breath. It was exhausting thinking about that thing being down there with those girls. Leon was supposed to be protecting them, keeping the beast occupied, but with the Father Wolf bullshit…
”I’ll do what I can to send them away, but we know that’s just a bandage.”
”I mean, come down… You still have that super special gun you worked on with Andrade, don’t you?”

Casey took a long, thoughtful pause.
”There’s… There are a lot of factors between me and doing something like that. So, yes I do, but I won’t use it…”
Taking a deep breath, he shook his head.
”I mean… I guess at the end of the day I don’t need to worry about the short trip between the roof access and our door, so… If you really wanna stay up? But, I’m gonna turn in when you’re done showing me everything you want to show me.” he finished, kissing Trisha’s neck gently before moving to plant another on her cheek.

Trisha had zoned out a bit while Casey and Ed talked about the cats - partly on purpose to not remember the morning, looking at the slope dropped in front of her character before starting to look up recipes on her second screen. She’d even pulled out a craft table in her own room, trying to figure out how many roof blocks they’d need and of what type - and how to even make them in the first place.

But the soft kisses brought her out of it, and she was paying enough attention to hear everything that was said… Which left her with a dilemma. Sleep, or minecraft. Casey, or no Casey. She didn’t really want to sleep, but she also didn’t really want to be without him. Even if the cats shouldn’t be a problem…
“It’s- it’s not that late is it?” Trisha said, looking between Casey and then her computer with wide eyes. Her eyes drifted down to the clock at the bottom of her screen… oh…

She pressed her lips together, hands coming off the keyboard so she could twist herself around and put her arms around Casey’s neck. Her face moved closer to his, rubbing their noses together.
“Just another thirty minutes? I’ve… shown you everything I wanted to… But a new roof shouldn’t take long. Right, Ed?” She said the last bit louder, face still right next to Casey’s. This close it was much easier to see the dark bags underneath her eyes from two practically sleepless nights, only lightly covered by makeup. They contrasted the energy in her eyes, even as she widened them to try and look extra cute.
“Please?”

Casey’s eyes narrowed as he stared at her pleading face. She was adorable, even looking like a sleepless raccoon. For a moment, he held a straight face as he looked back, trying to psych her out with a stoney expression. But he broke within seconds, shaking his head and closing his eyes.
”How are you awake? Did you take some weird nap while I wasn’t looking?” he asked with a laugh and a deep breath behind it. ”You… Really just love your game… I’ll feel real bad if I let you go, y’know. You’ve got me in a headlock.”

Ed laughed.
”I mean… I should probably sleep, since it’s a work day tom-day… Today. Like, six… Six hours. Mia’s been asleep at the table for probably an hour, and like… I really want to get this fucking roof done.” she groaned slightly.
”You were supposed to help me with temperance.”

Trisha’s head tilted to one side, a little confused expression appearing on her face.
“It’s not been a full day, so we’ve been pretty moderate with it? Anything less than twenty four hours is fine, really. That’s pretty normal.”
She tilted her head up to kiss the tip of Casey’s nose with a light laugh.
“No naps, I had that one yesterday, so of course I’m still awake. Normally when I’m working or studying, I just get it all done and then sleep. It’s easier that way. It’s just staring at a computer, anyway, it’s not like I’ve done much? I’ll catch up a day I’m more free.”

It was pretty clear that Trisha had a very skewed view of what was normal when it came to sleeping, and the amount of time spent on something. Get it done, then sleep… That was always how she’d done things. It was a bad habit from her teenage years, studying while putting up the facade of a social rich girl and sacrificing sleep for it all. It wasn’t like there’d ever been anyone in her life to teach her what was healthy, and bedtimes just didn’t exist in the Vanburen household.
“If we get the roof done in an hour, you’ll get five hours sleep… but if you need six for work, you should get that.” Then, to Casey.
“I don’t want to keep you up either, Babe… well, I do, but I shouldn’t. Oh, actually, maybe I can swap to my laptop and bring it upstairs with me…”

Casey was utterly caught in between thinking about how wonderful of a soldier she could’ve been, and how crazy she really was for thinking that any of what she just said was normal. It was one of the many things he went to war never thinking about, and then coming home and realizing that nobody cared about the little things.
The little things like being able to sleep whenever you wanted, or to stay up at all hours of the night because you had no real fear of what was coming next.

At least she got the fear part. She’d seen. Maybe that was it, and he was making a poor judgement upon her when she was really just… Afraid…
”If you don’t mind that, Babe, I don’t even mind you bringing it to bed with us. We can even sleep on the comfy couch; that way you can have that platform to keep it on. So you don’t burn your beautiful leggies…” he chided, hand slipping down to playfully pinch at both her legs.
”I can use you as a pillow too…” he cooed.

”That sounds so fucking good… I’m gonna wake tall pale and lanky up, force her to give me cuddles too… Trisha, I’m not gonna stay up. But if you’re really gonna go hog wild, just change the roof for now. Just don’t forget to make the right crafting bench: the recipe for it is in the normal bench, it’s like all sticks. Okay?” Ed asked expectantly from the other side of the computer.

Trisha giggled again, kicking her legs as they were suddenly so ticklish. Like her skin was extra sensitive right now… maybe the lack of sleep? It didn’t really matter.

“Alright, yeah, it’ll just be the roof, I won’t do anything more. I wouldn’t want to redo the whole house without your input… Even if that’d be fun,” Trisha replied, meaning it, but also knowing that once she got into it there was a chance she wouldn’t stop. But she’d try to.

“Aren’t the blankets and pillows still on the couch, anyway? Let’s-” she stopped, smile fading as she remembered that morning. She wouldn’t be able to sleep on the couch at all tonight… she’d just keep worrying that Casey was going to disappear. He’d never disappeared from their bed.

“Actually, I’d like to sleep in an actual bed. I can use a book or something to protect my legs… Don’t worry, you can still use me as a pillow too,” Trisha’s smile returned, leaning in to lightly kiss Casey.
“We can properly cuddle for a bit before I get going again. I need payment for moving.” She giggled a bit, though the laughing turned into a half yawn. She turned back towards her desk, head looking from side to side.
“My laptop’s… where’s my laptop? Oh, already upstairs, I think. Somewhere… I’ll find it while you check the wards. Ed? I’m going to switch my desktop off now. So, uh, good night.”

”Goodnight, you beautiful souls…-”
There was a little stir on the other side, and she cleared her throat. ”-Go ahead…”
The voice that came through was like a little girl. A very little girl, no older than a toddler… But the toddler was drowning in some kind of viscous liquid; or like a test tube baby talking through its amniotic fluid housing.
”Goodnight… I enjoyed listening.”

Casey let out an audible bleh from his gut, pushing up.
”Goodnight, Eddy… Goodnight, Serenity.”
”Oh, uh… Trisha? Our… Our Adjoined support group is meeting for dinner tomorrow. Maybe me and you can go together? Gin will be there hopefully, and… Bitchface Lena doesn’t go anymore.” she offered before Trisha had the chance to leave.

“Uhhh… Sure, if I’m not too tired,” Trisha replied, in a very non-committal way. It was a bit ironic coming from someone who’d just talked about being awake for more than twenty four hours at a time… but tomorrow evening was probably around when she’d crash. Sure, it would be nice to speak to other Adjoined, but a support group through the Temple? She wasn’t so sure about that.

“Just… text me, I guess. Goodnight, Eddy… Serenity…” her voice was much quieter naming the Apparition, following Casey’s lead. She wasn’t used to Apparitions that spoke with people they weren’t adjoined with, outside of the always awful encounters with Emily’s during the old days of the Coven. Her own barely talked to her! So it was just a little strange.

Sluggishly, Trisha got to her feet, leaving the chat room and shutting down her desktop. She yawned again, covering her mouth with a hand.
“I don’t need to bring out my Apparition if I go to that, do I?” she asked Casey, turning back around to him. She was more visibly sleepy now, focus on the game quickly disappearing along with her ability to stay awake. But she still wanted to build that roof… She held out her arms towards him.
“You need to help protect my beautiful legs from doing too much work.”

Casey scooped Trisha by her knees onto the desk, letting her sit a moment while he regained the feeling in his legs. There was a shooting pain from a dead nerve left unrepaired too long, never to be magically recovered.
”Oooooh, you… Kraut fuck…” he moaned, reaching down and grabbing at his thigh with a wince.

”There was this fucking Hemomancer… German tank tech, we pulled him out of the burning wreck and he repaid us by ripping our shit apart. The purple Luxer fuckin-”
He stopped himself, hand still rubbing at the spot that burned the most in his leg. It was beyond uncomfortable, and all he wanted to do was bitch about it… But he was explaining it to her…

”-Africa wasn’t awful… But it had the worst moments. I know it sounds morbid, but… That desert was so beautiful sometimes, the way it looked like the sun was cooking the horizon. A big sunny-side up egg…”
He gave the leg one last shake, then pulled Trisha up from the desk and into his arms.
”It’s easier to sleep next to someone: Makes a soldier feel safer having a buddy.” he nuzzled his face into hers, noses brushing together.

Pushing through the door and out into the office, he tried to remember what the policies were for the little get-together of Adjoined. Leon had long taken over as the leader of the group, which Trisha may not love…
”Uh, to answer your question from earlier-” he paused, sliding the little footstool across the floor to Norm who was sitting at the main desk. The two exchanged a nod, and he made way for the hall.

”-no. There’s plenty who are either too reclusive or whatever to come out. Leon, he’ll… He’s in charge? Kind of. I mean, they do a lot of things together; he hosts gym days, they do charity stuff, sometimes they’ll join him when he leaves town for boxing stuff. He organizes it, but they always have dinner together once a week. They get a schedule I guess… But, he can’t just let Lelou out. She’d be way too horny. Or hungry. Probably both.” he laughed.

Trisha’s expression scrunched up, but she tried to hide it by pressing her face into Casey’s shoulder. Of course Leon was in charge. Casey said kind of, but if Leon was anything like he had been ten years ago… Well, he was different enough that they’d agreed to move forward from any issues they had then. And she was trying. She should give it a chance at least…
“Both of those at once sound like a nightmare, but good… The Queen doesn’t come out. She could, she’s just too lazy to.” She let out a little huff, air blowing against Casey’s neck.

“Going along to one dinner doesn’t mean signing up for the rest, does it? I’m definitely not doing gym days. I never really understood the whole group exercising thing… But I’ll give the dinner a chance so I can talk to other Adjoined. I don’t really feel like I need a ‘support’ group of any kind, though. Those kinds of things are for people who are struggling.”
Something she definitely wasn’t doing… sure, her control wasn’t amazing, but that was a lack of knowledge more than anything. It wasn’t like the people from Sycamore stuck with Apparitions making them destroy everything they touch, or pushing them to kidnap innocent women.
“... is the dinner at the Temple?”

Casey wound up hooked on what she said. The phrase for people who are struggling implied that things were… Problematic… Some people were struggling, sure: But maybe Ed had given the wrong impression by giving it that label. Casey was torn between correcting her and just answering the question.
”It… Yeah? Probably, usually. Mone cooks. She’s probably a better cook than Andrade is, but she’d never play around in the back of a restaurant. Home cooking is all she and Avula Nah do, really. It’s kind of compulsive.” he laughed, thinking about the enormous woman and her equally enormous ghost.

”She’s adorable. Like the grandma you wish you had.”
He pushed through the exit door and up into the stairwell. Back outside, it was cold. The moon hung low in the bay as the sunlight burned the lowlands back into the day. There was still a few hours between them and the first precious rays. Enough to sleep in the pale eye’s view.
”Y-you don’t have to go, either. I’m only satisfied with letting you go because Ed goes with Leon directly: He comes to pick her up, it’s their little time. And I trust them, obviously.”

If it was at the Temple, that meant Trisha couldn’t actually eat. But that was fine. She wasn’t a fan of dinner in larger groups anyway, and never had much of an appetite. She could easily wait until she was home afterwards or just skip the meal entirely.
“My lola- uh, grandmother- is pretty terrifying, so she already sounds way better than her… I think I’d like to go, just the once, even if I don’t think I need it. I might change my mind tomorrow, but I do want to talk to other Adjoined… Leon included, I guess.”

She pressed as close as she could to Casey to avoid the cold night air, the drop in temperature cutting through the sleepiness that had started to take hold of her. She furrowed her brow, fixating over something he’d said. Repeating it in her head. Phrasing…
“You’re satisfied with ‘letting’ me go? I know it’s something with the Temple but… you don’t get to let me or not let me do things. I don’t need permission.” Trisha pulled back slightly so that she could look at him, eyes narrowed. Growing more irate the more she thought about it… the lack of sleep really didn’t help.
“That’s such bullshit, are you serious? ‘Let’ me?”

Casey’s eyes narrowed to meet Trisha’s as he took a slow, deep breath.
”Without me… I meant letting you go without me… There’ll be plenty of people, I won’t be worried about you getting hurt, you’ll be… Safe. That’s all I care about. And when this Father Wolf bullshit is finished, you’ll never hear me say anything like that ever again. I promise, Trisha, I didn’t mean it like that…” he frowned at her, frantically explaining his position.

Trisha lips pressed together as she thought about it, slowly. It made sense, she supposed… She didn’t want to die. Though she didn’t really think it would happen, because why wouldn’t Father Wolf take the many opportunities over the last few months? But of course Casey was worried. It was nice that he was worried. It had warmth bubbling up over the annoyance in her chest. She really wasn’t used to having someone who actually cared.
“Okay, I understand, it’s just about Father Wolf. And safety. I just… assumed… the worst…” her voice got quieter with each word until it was barely more than a whisper. She didn’t want to get into it, the past experiences. Dating so many people, most of whom were so obviously toxic from the start, came with all sorts of problems.

“It’s alright since it’s because you care.” She nodded, leaning forward again to kiss his cheek before curling back in at his neck. There were still a bit of background worries there- about how restrictive that seemed- but him actually caring was enough to bring her from sleepy grumpiness to sleepily content.

Casey could only tilt his head back in thankful bliss that this wasn’t suddenly a shouting match… He wasn’t a shouting type. Not at this point. Not with her…
”It’s all because I care, Baby… Cuz, I love you.”
It was only the second time today he said it… Twice a day was enough, right? It didn’t devalue the concept solely on the basis of overabundance, it didn’t scream desperate to not be alone.

”I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of so that we could have the freedoms we do. Or, at least I contributed, I feel like… So, coming home and dictating your life would be stupid. A waste of what people are dead for. Personal liberty.”
Shifting Trisha in his arms, Casey popped the door to the house open and stepped in. He could feel the vague weight of Lux influence crawling across the walls and floor of the house. Blue, black and orange trailed across his vision in little rays that split the air with their vibrance.

Above, the railing that kept their loft closed off had been repaired, quite literally put back together from the splinters. The pool of blood had been washed away, and everything was still and silent.
”It already feels better. Safer.” he took a deep breath. Bringing her past the den and up the stairs into the loft, Trisha would find the bed pristinely made with the blankets tucked under the pillows.
”I came up here a while ago and made the bed while they were working… I’ll get your laptop from downstairs…” he finished, slipping her onto the bed and hugging into her stomach.

He didn’t move. Just sat like a weight on top of her, his head turned and laying with an ear pressed against Trisha’s belly.

“It’s somewhere beside the couch, I think,” Trisha said about her laptop, struggling to remember when she last used it. Before she went for Casey’s ceremony, probably. That felt like a long time ago. A lot had happened.

At least things were safe, now. She trusted Casey when he said it was. It allowed her to properly relax in their home again, on their newly remade bed, not thinking about the intrusion from that morning. The place was theirs again.
“You’re not listening for anything in there, are you?” Trisha found herself asking with a soft giggle. She curled forward around him, pressing her face into his hair and letting her arms loosely drape over him. Her eyes half closed. Now that she was up here… she really was tired…
“Just food. Probably not even much food… nothing to hear there…”

She rubbed her face against the top of his head, arms tightening around him. Determined to do what she said she was going to, to build that roof, but already getting too comfortable to really think about it.
“Don’t bother with the laptop right now, I’ll get it later… I want cuddles first…”

”You’re just so soft…”
Without another word, Casey lifted one leg and pulled himself up into bed, sliding in next to Trisha and wrapping both arms around her so he could hug her tighter to his chest. He could only feel warmth in that moment; the love he knew he had. A tear silently rolled from his eye, a reaction he couldn’t control.

”You’re gonna have a hard time getting your laptop if I fall asleep…” he said lazily.

Trisha burrowed herself into Casey’s chest, pressing as close as she could. She was warm and comfortable… so safe. She felt safer than she ever had before in his arms. Like… home…
“I’ll get the bees to bring it to me,” she mumbled, half muffled with her face pressed against him. It wouldn’t be that hard with enough bees… she’d just have to calculate the number. It would be… she wasn’t sure.

“It can be… bee strength training…” Her voice got quieter and softer as she spoke, eyes properly closed. The roof… she had to… the bees…
“They can…” she trailed off, not even finishing the thought or sentence, breathing growing deeper as she already pulled into sleep.

Casey didn’t respond, except with his grip loosening only slightly. The warm, soft feeling of having that little body in his arms, feeling her heartbeat with his… To hell with every nightmare, every little pain and ache and fear. She was here, and he had something to protect. Someone who needed him just as much as he needed her. He’d have his guts pulled from his body a million times if it meant keeping her safe.

Because just as much as she felt safe with him, he felt safe with her. A partner. Someone to watch his back… Like she had that morning. The Pale Eye of the Moon stared down upon the Earth, upon the St. Portwell Bay, and its iris shone directly upon them through the glass walls of their home.

Before she was finished talking, Casey let out a little grunt from his mouth… But his mind was already black with sleep. Comfortable. Vulnerable.

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

---

---

---

---

Home

---

Home was a little cold. Casey spent a little while lighting a fire, the little stove connecting to a boiler outside that provided some extra heat thanks to radiator baseboards. The boiling hot steam would circulate and heat up the plates, and within an hour the house was warm again. Warm enough that the lights could be dimmed, and the two could properly retire into one another’s arms.

Rather than the bed, Casey brought their pillows and blankets into their den to lay them out on the big comfortable couch they’d gotten themselves. The two of them mutually expressed that there was energy left to spend, and Casey hoped that some mindless television and cuddling on the bed-like couch would put them to sleep.

So, some true-crime reenactment show on thirty minute blocks played ad nauseum, and the two of them quietly held onto one another as the clock eventually ticked across the dateline. The wee hours of the morning, most channels would start with advertisements; long fifteen minute adver-tainment blocks dedicated to shilling a particular product line. But, somehow, this one managed to just keep playing more episodes of the same true crime show over and over like Groundhog’s Day.

Casey had his head practically buried in Trisha’s hair, slow deep breaths leaving his nose as he did his best not to think about anything weird. Not to think about anything but what he thought was going to be interesting, fun and reasonably challenging: The stimulating parts of his new work environment.
But how could he deal with knowing that his Dad was… He couldn’t even think about it. Didn’t want to. Definitely didn’t want to think about the implication that was presented to him in that room.

The things she’d told him. In confidence. The secrets he couldn’t discuss. Didn’t want to. They weren’t the same, they weren’t one another, and the faith was all…
There were things Casey didn’t want to think about that he couldn’t not think about. Not tonight. So, sleep was a distant desire. Maybe unobtainable. Every fiber of his being railed against the drifting, only letting his body lapse into momentary catnaps. Five minutes here, a few more there where consciousness wasn’t exactly his; but he never stopped hearing the television. Or the occasional hazy comment from Trisha, which ended up in a muffled response that hardly made it back to her.

Trisha was contentedly curled up in Casey's arms, eyes half closed. As soon as they'd gotten home she changed out of the dress into comfier sleeping clothes - once again stealing a sweater of Casey's. Her legs were pulled up and into it, making her a little, curled up ball of fabric lying against him.
Sleep was also distant for her. After her earlier nap, there was the concern that she'd dream again. Dream, wake up constantly, and have to deal with what she saw. Or she’d have another nightmare, like she had when she last drank. The alcohol was doing the opposite of what it normally did - not quite putting her to sleep, but instead keeping her in a half awake state without ever quite getting there.

But she was comfortable, at least. Not sober enough yet to think about what she'd said, and the consequences of tonight's actions. Just the dreams. Dreams she didn't want to have, so she stayed awake to avoid them. So many strange dreams lately…
She shifted, pressing her face into Casey's chest with a soft grumble. Eyes fully closing for a moment, before opening back up again.
“Still awake?" she asked softly, quietly in case he was actually asleep. Somehow.

Trisha didn’t get too much of an answer: With how Casey was pressed into her, one of his arms had fallen asleep and adjustments weren’t going to come easily. So, face in the back of her neck, he replied.
”Mmmmmyyyyyyr… Wrpphup?”

Trisha giggled softly at the very muffled response… but it was a response. He was still awake. She didn't say anything for a moment, sleepiness and lingering drunkenness combining to make her both want to ask the question and struggle to form it. He was tired enough too it'd just seem like strange, late night sleep deprived thoughts.
“You ever… have dreams that feel real? Like they actually happened?" As she spoke quietly she awkwardly shifted herself so he might be able to get his face out enough to answer.

Casey actually spared a laugh at her question, his voice leaving his throat as an open giggle. He’d proceeded to crack open another wine bottle when they got home, so at the point they were at, he’d lost a few inhibitors of his own. As she pulled away from him to let him speak, he understood the motion and did so freely.
”Yeah, Babe. Usually, they’re memories. Or, a bunch of memories jumbled up into a fuckin’... Awful new Chimaera dream. Lots of bombs, and blood. Screaming. Wizards casting crazy spells, and… Yeah. Why?”

Trisha frowned, uncurling herself from her sweater ball so that she could roll over and properly half lie on top of him, head resting on his chest and tilted up towards him.
“That sounds… awful… but not. Not like that. Not my memories. But it doesn't feel made up. Just, I've been…" she frowned. How did she explain it without giving too much away - about someone, and something, she didn't want to think about, and the things she'd learned about him.
“Having dreams about someone I knew. Before I knew them. They feel like something that actually happened."

Casey’s half-drunken brow furrowed like it was trying to split his face down the middle. Thankfully in the mostly-dark room, it was hard to see his expression.
”Uuhmmm… Is… This a new thing?” he did his best to not sound troubled by the development. Of course, he was trained to assume that mind fuckery was evidence of magic, like an Inquisitor of old.

“Last few weeks thing," Trisha mumbled, making a half shrug motion that Casey would feel more than see. When had it started? When the coven came back together. Then the dream today… but that was unrelated. Not really was she was talking about, since she assumed that was caused by being in the Temple. Probably.
“Just strange. I haven't seen them in years. The person. Maybe it's just my imagination… they're so clear but… mmm, forget I said anything."

The ticker-tape in Casey’s head ground to a halt.
”Dream… Today?”
There was, at that moment, a very loud knocking at the front door of the house. It echoed down the short hall and into their room, a commanding and controlled set of four loud and authoritative bangs. He nearly jumped out of his skin.
”Aw… Aw, fuck, no… Nooooooo...” Casey groaned, realizing that his duties may be starting sooner rather than later. ”What could it fucking be at this hour?”

He craned his neck down to kiss Trisha on the head before moving to slide her off of him in an attempt to get up.

“Noooooo," Trisha softly whined, doing the Trisha special - legs and arms wrapping around him fully to cling onto him.
“It’s too early…"

Casey was a little wobbly, especially after having been laying down for so long. So, she was enough to keep him pinned to the couch. His legs flailed, and he started laughing as he tried to unclasp her fingers from around one another.
”HAH-Ha… B-babe… Baby, I- I gotta… T-trishaaaa!...” he groaned, finally resorting to tickling her feet to try and get her off him. The knock resounded again, and he spoke again.
”It’s probably Temple stuff! You don’t wanna-”

“Nooooo," Trisha whined again, legs flailing about too, successfully dislodged by the tickling - which was an uncomfortable sensation to someone still drunk as she was. She tried to cling onto him with just her arms, but she was also trying to escape the tickling… she went limp, rolling off with just her hands still clinging onto his shoulders.
“Don’t… come back soon… don't leave… just… quick…"

Casey spun very quickly, reaching his torso down to plant another kiss on Trisha’s forehead. He looked into her eyes before pulling away.
”I’ll be back as soon as possible, Baby… Sleep. Rest for now.”

Casey, free of his Trisha-shaped barnacle, finally wobbled to his feet before letting himself slump a little bit into the nearby wall. Taking a deep breath, he crouched slightly and bent his knees until he was squatting in front of the couch. Casey's arm slipped underneath, and there was a gentle rattling sound before he pulled his arm back out.

Trisha would be able to hear a harsh metallic thwacking noise, indicating the chambering of a live round into one of the many guns that Casey had managed to squirrel away in their home already.
His hand reached around, sliding the gun into his waistband under his lower back, then pushed against the wall to keep him stable before he made way out toward the front door.

Trisha’s mouth fell open a little bit at the sound of the gun, pulling the blankets tightly around her. Instead of doing what Casey had said, and resting, she moved to the edge of their massive couch. Her body shifted to the side, leaning over so she could look out the door, silently watching as best as she could. She felt a lot more tense than she should for what was probably just Temple business.
The alcohol making her more paranoid, maybe.

Trisha would've been able to track Casey around the corner by his footsteps, which bumped across the floor and made slight shifting noises in the wood construction. However, pulling her face around the corner would reveal something far more surprising.

Casey was gone. In the time it took Trisha to shift, Casey had somehow completely disappeared down the very short hall and managed to vanish. It wasn’t like he was moving around for a lightswitch or anything: His footsteps were gone. The air was cold and still. It was quiet now, in the same unnatural way that the minions of the Stygian Snake would once control the minds of the Sycamites long ago.
And yet, the knock echoed out again. It beckoned, practically begging to be opened.

A shiver ran down Trisha’s spine. Her breathing quickened, a distinctive fear she’d once been used to filling her mind. Silence. Unnatural silence. It tugged at memories she tried to keep buried. If she didn’t actively remember it, she didn’t have to deal with it. Didn’t have to think about the what ifs. What if the Stygian Snake was still in her mind somehow.

“Casey?” Her voice trembled as she called out, echoing in the otherwise quiet hall. No response. She pushed the blankets off her, bare foot pressing onto the floor as she stood up. Acrid smells started to fill the room… but she couldn’t really sense them. The bees, or the Queen. There was a fuzziness there. A barrier.
Just like it had been with the Stygian Snake.

Trisha didn’t want to open the door, but she found herself moving towards it anyway. She didn’t want to see what was behind it, but not knowing was worse. She bit down hard on her lip, pushing down the panic, as she carefully walked towards the door. And walked. Each step seemed to bring her closer, but there was still the same distance between them. Like she kept getting teleported back without feeling it. Breathing got a little harder. It was so quiet. She wasn’t getting anywhere. She should go back, hide in the covers, hope this would go away.

Maybe it was just a dream. Hugging herself, trembling, Trisha turned around.

Turning on her heel, Trisha found herself looking out at the dark skyline of St. Portwell’s harbor district. There were no lights. The moon was on the horizon, looming over the ocean like it was invading Earth’s personal space. Like it was trying to look down on and stare at Trisha.
The wind blew hard, nearly pushing her off the edge she was standing on. Somehow, the building around her had completely disappeared to leave her on the roof’s safety lip. With bare feet, her toes hung just over the side, curling over the brick to grip as best she could.

”It’s a cold night to be out with no shoes, Patricia.”
The voice came from over the edge below her, but looking down was pure darkness. Like nothing existed but dense, black fog.
There was a scream. It echoed across the rooftop unabated, the sound of a man in pure terror. Maybe even pain.
”Rowdy… Always has been.”

It was difficult to breathe, or to think, as the scream seemed to echo in her ears, turning into a crunching static. She was going to fall- would falling be so bad- she had to get away from the edge. She couldn’t keep looking over, couldn’t look at the darkness. It was too similar. It was all too familiar, yet not, and it was horrible.
“What- what- let us go. Let him go.” She tried not to sound terrified, lost, alone without those comforting, constant pheromones hanging in the air around her. Without Casey. Casey, who’d disappeared, who was in danger too. All alone. Completely, and utterly, alone.

“Go. Away.” As she spoke she stepped back, away from the edge. Away from falling, away from it, whatever it was.

Falling backward toward safety was really falling backward into a pit. The tiny edge that Trisha had been standing on was no more attached to a roof than anything else as the master of the illusion pulled the rug out from under Trisha.
It was a long fall, long enough to understand one wasn’t going to make it on impact. One that an individual could take a lot of last breaths in. A weaker heart may panic, burst within the chest cavity from the stress and fear. Enough time to kiss yourself goodbye.

It was a substantial impact that landed Trisha on the floor of their living room. Enough to knock the wind out of her.
Reality shimmered across Trisha’s field of view, the blow rattling her mind enough to shake the illusion. To let her know that things weren’t over, no matter how badly she wanted them to be. Thumping steps didn’t echo so much as they rumbled across the floor.
”Patriciaaaa… You are so full of it. Panic, fear: Your weakness, the fat and bloated petulance within… I can’t wait for them to fatten you up more. To drive all that anxiety, your woes, to the surface. Like a ruptured sore, for me to devour you from.”

Trisha bit down on a pained groan, squinting her eyes and choosing not to look up. She didn’t want to see. She was almost sad the fall hadn’t ended her suffering… whatever this was. A hallucination. A magical hallucination she was trapped in. She wanted out. How did she get out?
“I’m- I’m not,” she gritted out, fingers pressing into the floor to try and push herself up, body tensing up.
“I’m not weak, I don’t have any anxieties, I’m normal. I’m fucking normal. You don’t know me.”

”Oh my aching, ancient bones… Normal? Scared and stupid. Come, Patrica: We will see how normal you really are.”
There was a warm, furry feeling that shoved Trisha back into the floor, then forced her past it. Past the reality around her altogether, and into a fresh hell for Trisha to remember in all its vivid pain.

She was standing again. The pain was dulled, just like how she sensed the bees - there, but inaccessible. Her surroundings were bright but cold. A modern, well put together living room that didn’t feel like anyone lived in it at all.

Her mother’s home. It wasn’t just the place she recognised. It was the timing too - where she was standing, just to the side of the main couch. Looking at her feet. Light sneakers, bare legs. A moderate temperature. Summer three years ago.

The last time she saw her mom.

Against her will, her gaze shifted upwards, to the woman sitting on the couch. Maria Mendoza managed to look relaxed even with her perfect posture, hazel eyes much like Trisha’s piercing into her. They were so cold. There wasn’t a hint of love there - even a sliver of affection towards her daughter. It was a look she was familiar with, one that made her feel like she was drowning. Disappointment. The only thing she could make her mom feel. What she was.
”Is this really the best you can do, Patricia?”

It is, I can’t do any better, I can’t do anything-
“No,” Trisha found herself saying sullenly, just like she had three years ago. As if she was in her body without being there, forced to observe something she’d not allowed herself to remember or think about.

”Really? If you can do better, why don’t you? Every year you do worse. Why do a degree you can’t even understand the basics of? You-”

“I understand the basics just fine!” Stop. “Maybe if you helped me! Every-”

”Patricia.” Maria cut her off with a sigh. Uncaring, almost. She waved a hand dismissively.
”I’m not going to waste my time helping you at something you’ll never succeed in. You never have. You just disappoint me more everytime I see you. Did you even try?”

Try? Of course I tried, but it was never enough, it was never fucking enough.
“I did, I studied as hard as I could! I barely slept. Just like I did in school. I never stopped studying, but you never care. I work so hard. You just don’t care!”

”Do not take that tone with me,” Maria’s eyes narrowed slightly, but her face was otherwise the same. Cold. Detached. Disappointed.
”If you had really tried, you would have succeeded. You’re too lazy to try, and too stupid to understand that you’re the only one to blame. If you spent less time trying to be like your father and more time studying, your grades wouldn’t be like this. You’ve always been a failure, but this time you really outdid yourself.”

It wasn’t my fault. I tried, I really did… I don’t want to hear this again…
“I’m nothing like dad!”

”That’s true.” Maria’s lips curved upwards slightly, a disdainful smile.
”Your father, horrible man that he was, at least had a working brain. You do not. I don’t see the point in continuing this conversation. Every year, I give you another chance, and every year you disappoint me again. Get out.”

No, no, no, don’t abandon me, don’t kick me out, don’t leave me-
“What? But my flight isn’t until tomorrow. I’m not leaving! You can’t just tell me to leave. You can’t. I’m not going anywhere. You’re- you’re a terrible mother!”

”I’ve done everything I could for you,” Maria laughed coldly, hand raising to point to the door.
”Leave. You can come back when you’ve finally improved yourself. I don’t want a daughter like you.”

No, I don’t want to, don’t throw me away, please- please, love me, I’ll do anything, mom, please, just love me-
“Fine! I don’t want a mother like you either. I hate you- I hate you more than dad. Goodbye, Maria.”

No matter how much Trisha wanted to change it, she couldn’t, and her mother disappeared from her view as the younger her stormed towards the door. She opened it and… then she was falling again.

This time, when she hit the floor on her back again, it was real. And there was something underneath her that screamed out in pain as she landed on it.
”Oh GOD MY FUCKING RIBS-”
Chuckling and laughing, two voices both welled up with humor as Casey scrambled in a frantic fashion to get out from under Trisha.

”Casey’s brain is broken. We don’t need to remind him anymore.” ”But Patricia’s stubborn! Stupid! Casey? Leave her! For her own good!”

The front door was wide open. Kane and Abel, the cats from the basement, were both staring at the two people in the middle of the floor, eyes squinted in that calm pleasure.

”Ward all you like. You’ll live knowing that I’m waiting.”
”Waiting for the fruit to ripen. To pluck your pain again. And again. And again.”
”This is the deal.”
”The pact! You know now… You know!”

Where Trisha had landed, atop Casey as she had, there was the silhouette of a gun lying just beyond Casey’s reach. He was moaning, gasping for breath. His hands were struggling, clearly not thinking about the gun.

Trisha awkwardly rolled to the side to get off Casey, landing with a painful thump on her front beside him. But the physical pain wasn’t anything in comparison to the mental pain, screeching words constantly repeating in her mind. Stupid, failure, leave. Panic, need to get out, get rid of them- the bees, no, not the bees, connection too fuzzy.

She pulled herself forward, grabbing the gun where it lay. In a split second decision, fueled only by panic, she held it out in front of her, tilted it towards the cats, and pulled the trigger.
A terribly aimed shot.

The shot rang out into the cold St. Portwell night. Where once two cats sat in menacing confidence, nothing remained. Only the open door, and Casey’s struggling, pained gasping.
”F-f-fuck! Fuck, fuck!”
He tried to crawl forward, tried to reach out to Trisha to pull the gun away, to make sure she was alright… But he sputtered. Only his arm shot out to grab her sleeve.
”H-hurt bad! D-down… Norm! Norm!” He pleaded to Trisha between gasps.

Trisha dropped the gun - her hands barely off the ground, so it wasn’t much different to putting it down. She pushed herself to her knees, head turning to look at Casey with wide eyes. She just stared. He was hurt so badly, what had they done to him- what was that- don’t leave, don’t leave- She nodded silently. Her trembling hand reached out for his grasping her sleeve, curling around it to detach it, gently squeezing as if that would give either of them some kind of comfort. Then she managed to push herself to her feet.

It hurt, but nothing was broken. Like she’d… fallen from far too high twice. She had. It hurt, but she pushed through it, limping out the front door. Across the roof. Through the other door, down the stairs. Into the corridor. She stopped at the end, leaning against the wall with a pained gasp. Forcing air into her lungs, out. She just had to… to the security office… No, just call. Talk.
“N-Norm!”

Norm, his long hair wet around his head, stuck himself out of the door of the security office. His lithe frame pushed around it as well, both hands on the doorframe ready to rush.
”Trisha!? What!?” he asked, grave concern in his voice.

“Casey’s hurt,” Trisha pointed behind her, as if he needed to know where their apartment was. Her hand still shook, but she tried to suppress it - tried to look like she was perfectly fine in front of someone she barely knew and didn’t want to show weakness in front of.
“Really badly. Please help.”

”No, no fuckin’ way! What do you mean he’s hurt really badly, what the fuck?”
He pushed out of the office one hundred percent naked, and he quickly bound across the hall into one of the storage rooms before coming back out with a green pack of what looked like jelly. Pushing past her, it was clear that he was also channeling a spell. The air around them was getting dense, thick and cool.

As he walked, a sheet of ice froze over his dignity to spare Trisha the shame.
”The fuck am I running into!?”

“Nothing, it’s gone,” Trisha pushed herself off the wall to follow Norm, at a distance, not wanting to stay and wait down here. She had to see Casey get better - had to see that he was still here, that this was actually real. That they were- it was- gone.
“The- the cats. It was the cats.” She didn’t know if he even knew about the cats, but how else could she explain it?

”Oh, you’re dickin’ me! Leon, I swear to God, man… How did I not know, there weren’t any fuckin’ sensors!”
He took off into a sprint up the stairs. Ice blocks formed in brief lives, surging him up the stairs at a rate faster than he would’ve been able to just taking the stairs. It left Trisha in the dust, or more to say in the water, as the ice melted away instantly into the tile coating on the floor.

Before she could get down the hall fully, there was a laugh that echoed from behind Trisha.
”From here on? It’s your fault.”

Trisha spun around, but there was nothing there. Just an empty, dimly lit hall. She shook her head. Of course. It was always her fault… always… everything… Her chest clenched, and clasped her hands together in front of her, nails digging painfully into her skin. Dragging her out of the panic that gripped her again.

Casey. She had to make sure Casey was fine- but what if he did what the cats suggested? Left her. No, no, that wouldn’t happen- Why not, everyone else has. Better a moment’s comfort than staying here alone. She made her way back up the stairs, hardly caring about her feet getting wet. Barely felt it. Walking back the way she came without really seeing where she was going, hesitating in the doorway. Panic rising, but she had to put on a brave face, pretend it didn’t affect her.
“Casey, a-are you alright now?”

Norm was bent over Casey, one hand stuffed in his mouth as he tried to squirt the packet of fluid into Casey’s unconscious throat.
”He’s still breathin’, Trisha… Just give the Serum a minute…”
He’d pulled Casey over to lay on his back, and it looked pretty bad. The shirt he was wearing was torn open in the front like he’d been hit by a cannonball. There wasn’t a clean hole, rather a wide and almost bite-like gash went up his gut and into his chest.

The last of the paste squirted out of the tube, and Norm was free to pull away in order to massage Casey’s throat. He was still soaking wet, and frost was building up all across his body. Mostly at his ears, which froze a good deal of hair to the side of his head like a helmet.
”These fucking Cats… Leon’s gonna owe Casey big time for this, Trisha: Furio told him a year ago that they shouldn’t be kept here in the building. That they were gonna hurt people!” he snapped, half choking Casey as he tried to force the liquid down his throat further.

His chest was heaving, but as the moments went by, the wound was rapidly stitching itself together.

Trisha flinched as Norm got more heated, even though she knew it wasn’t directed at her - but it was difficult not to, after everything she’d been forced to see, and what she’d heard at the end. She forced herself away from the door, shakily moving over to Norm and Casey. She sank to her knees beside him, reaching out to take one of Casey’s hands. She couldn’t tell if it was cold, or hers was.
“He’s too busy having sex right now to care,” she said, irritation crawling up beside the anxiety. If Leon had the Cats in his apartment, he should keep them there. Her grip on Casey’s hand tightened and she looked down at him, at his face, avoiding looking at the wounds.

“How long will it take for him to wake up?”

”Not long… God broke the mold with these fuckin’ people.” Norm replied confidently.
Norm held out his free hand to Trisha.
”Gimmie your hand, just sit here and rub his throat. I need your house line…”

He put Trisha’s hand into the spot he wanted her to tend to, then stood up to make for the house phone that Casey insisted on keeping. It was an external line, but more importantly it had the internal security line built into the building. Norm had one in his apartment, Theo had one, and Leon had one.
”Theo? Go pound on Leon’s fucking door. Wake him up. -... Wake him the fuck up! I’m upstairs, I’ve got Casey half fucking dead on the floor, Trisha’s in horror, you need to fucking wake Leon up and ask him why the Cats aren’t in the basement. Leon, Mia, I don’t care, wake someone the fuck up!”

As Norm was speaking, Casey was coming back into reality. The reality of the searing pain. The reality of what happened. He felt a gentle hand around his throat, and his first instinct was to grab it and snap the wrist it was attached to.
But it was her. Her hand on his neck. Massaging him… The keylime…

Through the pain, Casey looked up at Trisha and smiled warmly.
”Oh… You… Did it…” he cooed, smiling widely.

Trisha wasn’t sure what he was talking about, was confused why he was smiling. He’d almost died, surely it must still hurt. She shook her head, eyes squeezing shut for a moment to push back tears- of relief, maybe- before they could fall. She didn’t want to cry.
“What do you… It’s gone, you’re alright, can you- swallow the rest yourself?” She asked softly, hand still resting on his throat. It took a lot not to just curl into him, and let the panic take over. She was trying really hard to appear fine, even though her voice was shaking- her whole body was shaking- and she was visibly paler than normal.

“You’re… not dead.” Just in case he, somehow, thought that was the case.

Casey knew he wasn’t dead. He started laughing when she said that, both his hands reaching up weakly to touch her face. It ripped the newly forming flesh, causing bleeding that instantly repaired again until it was strong enough to hold tight.
”You… Shot the gun. You got the help. I’m not… Dead.” he grinned up at her.
”I’m s-sorry… L-lots of w-w-work to do t-today… To protect us.”

Trisha shook her head again, leaning forward to press her face more against his hands. Her own hands moved to his wrists, gently curling around them. She tried to smile back at him, but it was difficult. There was that voice in the back of her head now, morphing together her own with her moms - it had always been there, really, but it was louder. She hadn’t done anything. Couldn’t do anything.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. Because he said protect us. That meant he wasn’t leaving her to protect her, he was staying with her, but then-

“I’m sorry.” It was barely a whisper, difficult to make out without reading her lips. Not sorry for the past, but for the future. For everything that was going to be her fault.
“I’m just glad you’re alright. I was so worried… when you disappeared… when I heard you scream… then- then I landed on you, hurt you more. I’m so glad…”

”Hey… You did what… I asked. What needed to be… done.”
Casey’s breathing had been extremely ragged and pained, but it was starting to smooth out.
”No crying… No more. Tonight sucked except for y-you. S-so, smi-le.”

The ice-man made his way back to Trisha and Casey, squatting down with his ice shorts on.
”Boss? Are we filing any forms?” he asked simply, looking down at Casey.
The initial response was a laugh, then he shook his head, prompting Norm to get back up again.
”Trisha? Can I get you anything, Ma’am?” he asked, adding the honorific at the end as if she was in some kind of position above him.

“I’m fine,” she lied instinctively. It wasn’t like she was dying. It wasn’t anything bad enough to need magical healing food, or to make someone go back down and up those stairs again. Her back hurt the most, and she was sure there'd be some nasty bruising there but… nothing was broken. It wasn't that bad.
“It’s alright, thanks, Norm.”

She looked up at him for just a moment, before looking down at Casey again, managing a smile now. A weak one, but a smile nonetheless. What she actually wanted was some time just with him… but she also wanted to curl up in a corner alone, to shut down and suppress everything again. Both couldn’t happen. She wanted to… be with him more.
“You don’t have to go… work now because of this, do you? Not right now?” Her hands holding onto him gripped tighter, as if somehow she'd let go and he'd just walk out the door when he could still barely move.

As his wounds were healing, stitching themselves together in the open air, Casey took another deep breath. As deep as he could.
”I g-gotta do s-ome-thing.” his grunted reply came from between his teeth as he held onto Trisha’s hand and tried to pull himself up.
Air pushed out from between his teeth before he groaned and laid back in the spot he’d been in. It was too raw, and as he looked down he could see the magical process rejecting little bits of debris alongside the Wampus Cat’s impotent venom.

Feeling the latter welling up in his mouth to spit out, he turned his head.
”Norm!? Bu-cket!”
Deftly, Norm spun from where he was and slid on his icy knees right up to Casey. Opposite Trisha, she’d be able to watch his hands form a wide-mouthed bowl of ice almost instantly. Casey’s head turned a bit more, and he wretched a wad of pearlescent goop into the frozen vessel.
”Fucking… They didn’t… I should’ve warded the place, Trisha.” he lamented, turning his head back toward her.
”So, I w-won’t le-eave. I have to… Secure our home. Better.”

Trisha grimaced when Casey threw up… whatever that was. She couldn't tell. Something magical, less gross than normal vomit would've been but probably scarier when she didn't know what it was. He was recovering, it was fine, it was just slow. He wasn't leaving.
“Don’t push yourself," she said softly, trying to suppress the panic she was still feeling over the whole thing, still gripping onto his hand. She leaned forward over him so that her face was closer to his, long, messy hair falling over him. Closer it was more obvious that she was still suppressing tears even as she tried to smile, a redness in her eyes that disappeared only when she closed them for a moment. Closing them, of course, was a mistake - because it just flashed her back to all the places she didn't want to be.

So she opened them again to look at Casey.
“Ok, if you're not leaving, securing our home more is good, you can do that here, I can stay with you- will wards really keep them away? They-" she shook her head, grimacing. “I couldn't tell what was real, but if they could transport us around like that… unless that was all an illusion. Not that- they hurt you worse, I don't want them to get to you again. Let me help. I can't do anything with the warding but you can lean on me until you feel better."

Casey couldn’t help but laugh at Trisha’s absolute dedication to the moment. He couldn’t blame her for being horrified.
”They don’t move you. They move your mind, and your body does what it wants. Emotional Fields-”
The magical muscle recovery started to remake the nerves. It was the most painful part, the open air stinging them with every little bit of dust hanging in the air. He winced, grimacing in pain as it stole his breath.

Norm cleared his throat.
”You got this, Big Guy. You’ve been through worse.”
Casey wordlessly nodded, holding onto Trisha’s hand still and turning up his lips despite the tears in his eyes.
”Wards w-won’t s-top forever… S’fucking… Cat and Mouse!”

He started to laugh, balled himself up and started moaning out in pain some more. He thought that he probably deserved it for the pun, but that’s how you got through the awful things.
How he did, at least.
”B-but… I’ll m-make you something. Personal s-safet-y.”

Norm got up again, encasing the venomous elixir produced by its reaction with Casey’s stomach bile in a thick vial of ice that he then stuck under his arm for safe keeping. It froze directly to him.
”I’m gonna go store this and finish drying off. Come down when you’re ready, it’s your shift when you say it is.”
Casey nodded at him, and in turn he began to walk away. Not before taking the gun Trisha had dropped earlier and moving to hand it back to her. It had a little frost on the barrel where he held it.

”Always keep yourself safe, Trisha. Good job.”
And then he was gone, leaving them alone as Casey’s epidermis slowly spanned the gaps to finally leave him protected and whole once again. He was mostly silent now, and had his head in Trisha’s lap for a little comfort.

”I f-feel like I’ve been… Saying sorry a lot.” he spoke, half muffled by her thigh.

Trisha was trying very hard to stay still, suppressing the trembling that threatened to take over her whole body. At the same time, she was sending out calming pheromones now that she could properly sense the bees, stopping them from all swarming her as soon as they realised where she was. She'd deal with them later… the gun that Norm had handed her was placed back on the floor beside her. It wasn't like she knew how to use it.

“You have been, but at least you know how to say it," she said quietly, one hand gently running through his hair while the other rubbed his back. She was careful, just in case it still hurt after the healing. He'd been so hurt, and the healing had looked so painful… but she also couldn't keep her hands to herself, because she needed to confirm he was there. Alive, real, having not left.
“These weren't the sleepless nights I expected to have with you," she managed to joke. She didn't exactly feel tired anymore, even when she'd barely slept the night before and the strange, dream filled nap hadn't exactly helped.

She leaned forward to press a gentle kiss against his cheek, before resting her face against his for a moment. It helped. She could push back the memories, the fears and anxieties of various kinds- your mother still abandoned you, everyone will- she could ignore it. Suppress it like always. She took a shaky breath, pulling back slightly to talk again.
“Why did they only attack you? They just showed me things.“ Describing it as things was massively downplaying it. But how could it be as bad as nearly dying? If her worst memory was just that- it isn't, not, it's definitely the worst- then it was nothing. She could handle it just fine. Sure, it had also reminded her of the Stygian Snake, but she wasn't that badly affected either.
“I’m really glad you're alright."

”I’m glad you’re alright too…”
Casey wasn’t ignoring her question, so much as he was trying to figure that out himself. Not right now, but… Forever. Trying to justify the childhood he spent avoiding home as much as possible. Avoiding all the strangeness and the weird shit, and now he was back… And the pain was back too. It wasn’t intentional; who wanted that? Not that all the desert hikes and rock climbing and starvation and blood and mud and-

I’m not a masochist. I’m a soldier. I did what I was asked; nay, what I was told.

He finally sat up, feeling the telltale aching of Andrade’s famous Key Lime Pie finishing its work and leaving the body in a plume of heat.
”And, to answer your question? They just don’t fuckin’ like me. I don’t know what it is. Maybe they think I’m a runt, or that I’m an easy target still. I guess I am… Motherfuckers…”
He felt a rage about the whole situation as his senses fully came back to him. He wasn’t praying to stay alive; Trisha’s actions had saved his life surely. The Wampus came on strong after all the years of withholding the wrath. Maybe they wanted to show him that they could still hurt him.

”So we’ll fix that. It may not be pretty, but I’ve learned a trick or two. And we can call someone else in for some help.” he nodded.
He looked at Trisha, a soft smile coming over his face.
”What’d they show you, Trisha?…” Casey asked as calmly as he could. He had to know… In case it was sensitive information. Anything she shouldn’t know, she’d have to agree to getting rid of… There was no other way to keep the agreement…

There it was, the question she didn't really want to answer, but had known was going to come anyway.
“Emptiness, like when the Stygian Snake and its minions tried to get into our minds. Darkness, too. They said a few things. Called you rowdy, said that I was scared. They were just trying to make me anxious-" And they'd succeeded. “There was a lot of falling. Darkness, silence, and falling.”

She looked away from him, biting her lip, hands falling into her lap now that he wasn't lying on it and nails digging into her thighs. She didn't want to- couldn't- bring up the memory. How would he react? Disappointment, maybe, or maybe he'd just laugh, brush it off. She should brush it off. It wasn't like her mom had cut off contact then. She'd called her one more time since, when she graduated. It didn't make her a failure- it definitely did- and it hadn't been her fault. None of it had been. There was just no point in bringing it up.
“They didn't really get to me. It was just a lot like with the Stygian Snake."

”And there wasn’t anything about the Temple? Nothing you feel like you shouldn’t know?” he asked, twisting his body and wincing at the still-fresh nerves tugging against themselves. But he managed to look her dead in the eyes, trying to use every bit of his raw White Lux to make sure she was telling the truth.

“No," Trisha answered honestly, though her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed together into a thin line. She didn't look away this time, but there was a clear withdrawal in her eyes. Whatever she'd been feeling to look away and tried to hide was gone, covered by a gauze of annoyance, all the other emotions gone.
“Nothing about the Temple. Don't worry."

Because of course, that was what was important. Keeping the Temple secrets. He didn't actually care about what she'd seen, did he? That was fine anyway, she didn't want anyone to know. She hadn't seen much. She was fine, why would anyone be concerned anyway? She didn't want that.
“I didn't see anything important at all."

Casey’s hand slowly climbed to her face. She was definitely lying. Lying so much, he couldn’t actually tell if she’d seen anything, or if it was all just blending together. He gave her a gentle smile. She seemed sincere enough at the beginning that he didn’t think she’d acquired anything important, but now he was left with the stinging idea that something really had happened.

”They like to dredge things up. Make you remember how you felt at your lowest so they can feed on the despair. It’s a game for them… So, I assume that if they’re not feeding you information, then they’re torturing you. Just like they did to all of us as kids. If it’s something… Y’know, from… The days with the Snake? You can talk to me. I may not’ve been there, but I have seen what magical warfare looks like. I’m here…” he cooed, looking at her with a soft longing. He wanted her: but the real her. Whatever she was carrying, he’d hold. He wanted to show her that.

If it was something from the Snake days, maybe it'd be easier to talk to him about it. That wasn't unique to her. Parts of it, sure, memories she was glad the cats hadn't dragged up. But it wasn't even that. What was she supposed to say? 'I'm so much of a failure my own mother abandoned me.’ No. She couldn't.
Maybe she could make something up. Right. Something from the Stygian Snake days, something bad but not too bad… Her lowest then, that was when-

No, not that either.
“It wasn't much," she started, unaware that he was using any White Lux on her - she wasn't so aware of her emotional field, and the Queen was still asleep. Somehow.
“Just, a few times when I got hurt badly. Fighting Apparitions that my bees couldn't really handle. I normally just bolstered others with my pheromones so they didn't feel as scared. But sometimes there wasn't enough of us. I saw the time… I got the scar on my hips. There was only a few of us, and it was hell hounds. One of the people with us was scared of them, so I had to actually try and fight. They killed a lot of my bees. That- that hurt more than anything else. I couldn't protect them."

The story itself was a true one, but it was a lie that she'd seen it. It walked the fine line of what she was willing to share - bad enough to seem like a low moment without showing how much she failed. She didn't speak like someone talking about a traumatic event. She'd suppressed it all so much to the point she truly believed she hadn't been affected badly by it.
She just didn't want Casey to know how little she had. How worthless and useless she really was.

He knew that helping her wasn’t going to be easy. He could barely help himself. All he could really do was pull her close, onto his lap. His filthy, bloody, shredded clothing sat beneath her as he held her close to him. He rubbed her back, taking deep breaths.
”At least they’re safe… I don’t think the cat would go into something Gin made. And in the future, you’ll be ready too; so you don’t need to worry anymore. We’ll work on it.”