FernStone

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

Misty Island

Back into and through the facility, then they were back on the outskirts of the town. The route to get to the Carnival was a bit different from the one they’d taken there - no need to go through the centre since it was behind the town. It was nice, if cold. Trisha was glad she’d worn her warmest coat with all the chilly winds coming off the sea. But it was nice. No rain, perfectly clear.

Trisha was energized by the whole going on a date thing. The second part of a date! The whole day was a date! Rides, games and shops… that was a whole three other things, then there was also dinner to get, and when they went back to the room for the evening. So much time together doing things…
“You’re not going to use magic to cheat on the Carnival games, are you? Not that a little cheating is bad… I guess if there’s any shooting ones all of your training would count as cheating too.”

”Hey now, most? I don’t need to cheat. Maybe if there’s a crane game, but those are rigged anyway!”

---

The Soldier's Carnival

The Soldier’s Carnival was a perpetual funpark that had been operating on Misty since before the base was relegated to its current use. Along with the few residences for officers and brass, it was assumed that there should be a safe and fun place for the troops to come and experience a family friendly atmosphere. For years, Navy soldiers mingled with visitors and would put on performances from the in-house band to entertain guests of all kinds.
Now, without the support of the military complex, the park had fully privatized, and had since become just a little less magical.

Still, it was fun! And the rides, as few as there were, were in fantastic condition in spite of the constant exposure to the salty ocean air. It was a free place, one where there weren’t many eyes worried about what the guests were up to. One where, if they had the scratch to get out to the island, teens and young adults could spend time just being young.
Admission came with a small pink band around the wrist, and immediately the park opened up into games and smaller attractions. Casey was quick to point out the arcade, loving skee ball as much as he did. There was no chance he wasn’t going to drag Trisha in to play at least a game.

But they’d gone to an arcade not too long ago, so he was aware that it couldn’t be the focus. Hence, a few half-hearted games were spent mostly trying to throw Trisha off her own game rather than winning purely by locking in. It hadn’t worked how he intended, as the first go around was a victory but the second was a miserable loss to someone who now knew his gameplan. Whatever it took to get her back into his arms… They laughed and laughed, both at one another and Casey’s goofy attempts to distract Trisha from her victory. But neither wound up with enough tickets to do anything besides buy a few pieces of candy.
Casey did so, and now they both had delicious little lollipops to suck on as they made their way toward the next thing.

Booths with actual carnival games were set up all along the main strip, giving the two of them plenty of options to look at. Casey, enthusiastically waiting for the chance to impress, began pointing at the different booths.
”What’d I say? A giant blue monkey?”

His finger pointed directly at one, a smug grin forming across his face.
”Like that? I mean, there’s a thousand options. You could get uh… Orange Godzilla?”

There was, in fact, a strangely offbrand “cutesy kaiju” being advertised specifically at one of the booths… It was a dart game, where you had to pop all the balloons. He wasn’t awful at darts naturally, but a little magic probably would’ve made the prospect easier to swallow.
”I kinda wanna see if they have a giant bee anywhere. D’you think it would freak the girls out?”

“So long as it doesn’t have pheromones, it wouldn’t,” Trisha laughed lightly, smiling brightly up at him. It was a cute idea… a massive plush bee. It would be something she could easily hug in bed too if Casey snuck out like he had last night…
“It might end up smelling a bit like me, which’d confuse them… I think they’re more likely to think it’s a flower. Cause of the bright colours.”

She looked around at all of the options, eyes peeled for any bright yellow. But her eyes were drawn back to the “cutesy kaiju” stall…
“Look, that green… Mothra? I think? Is pretty cute.” She pointed over to where it hung among the other cute and oddly coloured kaiju plushies. She wasn’t sure if she actually wanted it… maybe? There was a lot of choice. And if there was a massive bee anywhere… she was almost overwhelmed, head snapping around.
“What do you think, Babe?”

”Uhhh… Maybe we save them for when we’re leaving? We can scope the rest of the place out, ride the rides, then hit the booths on the way back out! Intelligent moves and all that, right?” he smiled, pulling her close and rubbing her shoulder to warm her up a bit.
”You wanna do the Ferris Wheel first? I’d have a good angle to check on the other island, make sure nothing awful or tragic has happened?”

“Mhm, tactical, you really are useful to have around,” Trisha teased, leaning into Casey slightly. She did want to go on the Ferris Wheel. It always seemed romantic, but she’d never actually gone on one before. Though the prospect of him checking on Elysium made it feel a little less so… but as long as it wasn’t the whole ride. It wouldn’t be, right?

“Sure, let’s do that. Hopefully I don’t have an undiscovered fear of heights… pretty sure I don’t! But I’ve never been up high in a glass box where I can see all around. It might unlock something.” She spoke jokingly, changing direction towards the Ferris Wheel. In the end, she decided not to comment on the looking at the other island thing. It was easier to not get upset that way.
“It is safe, right?”

”Oh yeah! As far as I’m aware, the anti-rust protection package the state requires them to have is wild. Practically magic, and honestly it wouldn’t surprise me if it was magic.”

Though Trisha’s vision of what this thing was maybe wound up a little skewed… Casey didn’t comment, rather waiting until they got up close so that she could actually see: They weren’t the big glass boxes like in the cities. Ferris Wheels this far out became simpler, open topped four-seat cars that gently swayed in the breeze with each gust. The fully exposed bench seats were only wide enough for two smaller people, meaning that if they wanted to sit on the same side, Trisha would wind up in Casey’s lap…

But, thanks to the time of year, it wasn’t crowded at all. In fact, the line was just about empty, and the few people who were riding it seemed to be making several passes up and down without getting out.This was, to Casey, a fantastic thing. It meant he could comfortably get a pass where he could check things out, and then barring the absolute worst case scenario, enjoy several more without the mental pressure of checking to see if his older brother had turned into a massive wolf-thing.
He started trying to walk through the little switchback maze of a line, but the attendant was quick to wave them on, as if ushering them to scramble over the steel bars separating the sections of the line. Casey laughed, scooping up Trisha out of nowhere and beginning to throw one leg after the other over the metal bars.

The man watching the ride had already brought an empty cart to a stop.
“Be careful up there, Big Guy! Try not to put too much weight onto one side of the cart; there’s a lock keeping it from swinging too much, but we try to take good care of ‘em!”
”Oh, you got it! No problem, I’ll just squat down right in the middle!”

Both parties laughed, and Casey ascended the stairs to the ride with Trisha still in his arms. Finally getting there, he put her down to let her get in, and then in a second, they were ascending the ride slowly and surely.
”Heyyy, there we go. Comfy? You want my jacket too in case it gets too windy?” he asked Trisha gently and sweetly.

“I’m okay, my jacket is pretty warm,” Trisha replied with a cute smile, eyes creasing happily. Him asking, and constantly thinking of her like that, made her feel warm and gooey inside. Honestly, she would quite like to wear his jacket… but that would require loosening her death grip on the metal bars that surrounded them.

She did her best to pretend she wasn’t nervous about it. It was just… not what she’d expected. Sure, Casey had said it was safe. She trusted him. But if the cart swung just a little bit too much to one side what was to stop them from falling out? It didn’t feel safe. But she didn’t want to look like a coward. So she tried to act like normal, even though one hand was practically white from hard it was gripping the rail.

At least the cart was small enough that her legs were pushed inside his. The contact was comforting… and she’d relax a bit more if they didn’t die after the first trip round. Proof it was fine.
“It’s nice… I’m not sure I understand why it’s seen as so ‘romantic’ though. Not that it isn’t! Just, everywhere with you… is…”

Casey hadn’t moved to check out the island. It was on his mind, but after a comment like that, he knew it’d only be insensitive to roll into the new topic.
”Oh, you don’t? C’mere-”

He pushed forward, snagging Trisha and sliding her onto his lap. The channeler came out of his coat pocket, and he gripped the bar, along with Trisha’s hand to a lesser extent, and let a massive jolt of Orange Lux burst out from his body to ripple down the metal machine. From there, he could feel the status of the rotation-lock, as well as the main axel of the wheel and the overall integrity of the ride. It was good, solid, and- just like he predicted -already bound by a fairly powerful Orange enchantment that was artificially bolstering the metal’s ability to resist rust.

”Oh yeah… Babe, we’ve got nothing to worry about. It’s already been touched by magic. Swear on my life, this has some serious Lux pumping through it.”
Saying that, he wrapped his arms around her tightly and threw his feet up onto the opposite bench.
”Just stay here with me and chill out. The romance is at the top.”

Knowing they’d be facing the city skyline when they made it to the top, it was all anticipation now. Time to talk, and to be together intimately.

Trisha let out a panicked squeak when she was suddenly pulled from her seat. She immediately clung to Casey, unable to keep up her faux confidence. She’d been maintaining it with the combination of rail gripping and perfect stillness… which had been ruined. But it was safer in his arms. At least she felt safer. He wouldn’t let her fall out of the cart.

“It’s really safe? It’s not going to tilt and throw us out?” she whispered, legs curling up against her chest as she leant against Casey. Even as she asked, she knew the answer. He’d already said there was nothing to worry about. She believed him. Especially if there was magic on it like that.
“Maybe I’m a bit more wimp than I thought,” she mumbled, words muffled thanks to her face being pressed into his chest.

But as it moved slowly, she also pulled her head back a bit to properly look up at Casey. Still holding onto him tightly, but she relaxed with him hugging her like this.
“I wonder if being up this high is a bit like what my bees experience. They spend so much of their time flying… I was kind of envious when I first got them because they had so much freedom.”

Casey shrugged.
”Y’know this is one thing… But we could probably actually get you flying. Somewhere quiet, some time in the future? There’s plenty of methods to do it, and most of them are pretty fun. Safe too. I’ve even got a spell in my back pocket we could use, if that interests you one day.”

His lips pressed against the top of her head, planting little kisses from her scalp to her cheek. Hands gripped her gently, but his arms around her were all encompassing and warm. Full of love and care. He wanted her excited, but just as much, he wanted her curious and willing to experiment. With magic, with life itself… He wanted everything for her.

”But, I don’t think you’re a wimp if you don’t want to try, or if you don’t trust this even now… It’s okay. I promise. I’ll never look down on you, only down at you… ‘Cuz of the height, y’know?” he explained.

Trisha giggled gently, peering up at him with a joking pout.
“Now you’re just calling me short…” she whined cutely. It was nice to hear… because sometimes she felt she was just that. And with it came the feelings of failing. Fear, failure, fear, failure… an eternal loop she sometimes felt stuck in. But this wasn’t a failure. Just a bit of nerves.

She thought a bit more about what he’d said. About actually flying. She was curious about it. How could he do it with his magic? She’d probably trust that more than she would the other methods, if they were Temple.
“If it's your spell then-”
You don’t need other’s magic to fly.

Trisha was interrupted by her spirit rousing in her mind. Not the time she particularly appreciated it… during a romantic date. But she couldn’t control her.

I will teach you one day. I will lend you more of my magic.
“How dangerous is it to use more Apparitional magic?” she asked, seemingly out of the blue. But it was related…

Casey was a little shocked to hear that question out of her mouth, but there was a small ripple from one emotional field into his own, throwing flags up through one of his passively circulating detection spells. There was some internal interaction… And he didn’t feel those ever happen between the two of them.
He had to keep it clean, however, so he didn’t ask any questions.

”Well that’s a tough one, because it really depends. Apparitions are all different, right? Like, say, if the Queen had some kind of spell that gave you wings? It’s cool, but you gotta learn how to use ‘em, and then who knows if she has a way of protecting you if you fall? Or, uh… Theo! His Apparition is essentially a big cannon. He can technically use it to fly, but the landing part is super dangerous. Make sense?”

Trisha frowned thoughtfully, nodding. She didn't want to risk falling and getting hurt, or worse. She wasn't even sure how much she wanted to fly… it had just been an offhand comment from when she was in a different mental state. She didn't feel the same need for freedom. At least… she had a car now. She wasn't as restricted. Though it could be fun.

You wouldn't fall. I would take over before you fell.
Trisha wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that either. Wouldn’t some kind of transformation be painful too?
“I think I’ll stick to the tried and tested methods then. If you’ve got a spell that works for it… then I’d like to try it sometime. Just to see what it's like and if I enjoy it… it’s kind of like trying out an extreme sport right? Just magical. I trust you and your magic.”

Hmph.
Trisha let out a soft laugh, wriggling a bit in Casey’s arms. Her head came to rest on his shoulder, tilting up to smile at him.
“I think I upset her. During the meeting she… promised to help more. I’m just not sure if I’m comfortable with doing more with it.” She quietly brought up the dreaded meeting. The thing they hadn’t talked about much before having a fight. But she felt comfortable with him right now… and she’d put herself in a position where she couldn’t escape. But he couldn’t either.

”Who… You mean the Queen? What’d possibly upset her, huh? She’s got life on easy street as far as Apparitions go. You’ve had enough money to maintain her subjects, taken good care of them. You’re a good proxy. And a strong woman for dealing with, y’know, sixty thousand kids or whatever.” Casey laughed, shaking his head and rubbing Trisha’s arms to calm her down a little bit.

He could feel her tensing as she brought the meeting up, probably worried about whether or not he’d really gotten over it. But, if he hadn’t, would they be here now? The thought didn’t come anywhere near his mouth, just rolling around in his head playfully until it tipped out the side and down to the ground below them. He’d pick it up later…

”But, I mean… Tell me about it? I’m all ears, my Love…”

“Well, I’m not really sure why she’s upset… she just huffed in my mind when I said I’d rather use your magic,” Trisha said softly, relaxed again against him. It was difficult to retain any tension when he was so warm… so comforting. Even as they moved further and further up into the sky. Maybe it was the safety, maybe it was that she wouldn’t mind falling like this.

“She said she’d teach me how to fly. And at the meeting she promised to teach me more of her magic. I want to learn more for the bees… if I can use my pheromones better, or help them more. But if it comes with… physical changes. Like Lila. What if I end up like her? She wasn’t like that before.”

Casey shrugged.
”Well, I’d say… If you haven’t heard anything from her until now, and she’s offering to teach you things but you deny her? Sounds like there's a contribution to hurt feelings there. If she can teach you how to fly, and you’re capable, then I say you should just ask her more questions instead of… Y’know…”

He trailed off, hoping that she’d understand what he meant. The whole idea of listening and responding shouldn’t ever be a question to ask. It was only right that she should try to get all the information and understanding she could from the Queen.

Trisha did understand. It didn’t mean she was entirely comfortable with it. She tensed up a bit again. She’d gotten so used to doing things herself, and the way things were. Complacency. There hadn’t really been any want to change things. To change herself, or to improve. She’d been stuck until she met Casey. But… It was scary.

“But it’s scary,” she admitted quietly. Barely a whisper. Then, a little louder.
“And she said if I fall she’d take control.”

”But have you even considered asking her what she meant?” he questioned gently, the early afternoon sun finally shining through the island’s vague misty haze.
They were making their way to the top now, and Casey pointed out to the St. Portwell skyline in the distance.
”Oh, wait… See? This is supposed to be the payoff. Y’get up here, the clouds part, and you can see the beauty and splendor of the city… Takes your mind off things. Supposed to kind of overwhelm the senses, and make you feel some kind of passion or nostalgia.”

Trisha turned her head to look where Casey was pointing. It was beautiful. Appreciated more from where she was nestled against him. Nostalgia… there was certainly a feeling of that. Maybe less nostalgia, but relief. The city still existed. It had been rebuilt. The nightmare from ten years ago that still haunted her was in the past. Things were better now.
“It is really nice. Worth risking my life over.” The last bit was a joke, said with a smile.

I’m sorry. Can we talk about it later? she whispered in her mind.
I suppose.

It was enough. As they moved past the peak of the ferris wheel, Trisha turned from looking at the beautiful sights of the city to the beautiful sight of her boyfriend.
“I hadn’t considered it… because she used to never answer. But I’ll ask. Not right now, when we’re on a date… but another time. Because I do want to improve my magic.”

Casey’s face turned into a wry grin as he considered what she said.
”Hey, listen… You’re not gonna offend me… I can-”
His gloved hand slipped into his coat, pulling out a pair of reading glasses without actual lenses in them. As they connected with his fingertips, an orange glow radiated from where the lenses should’ve been, forming an octogrammal pattern of runes within that slowly faded away into nothingness…

”-just check on how things are going on Elysium. I have a little excuse, you have a little excuse, we accept it and kiss one another the next pass around. If I have it my way, we’ll spend forever together. Hopefully see things even more beautiful than this…”
Though the thought only passed through his mind, “Except for you.” was the most prominent thought of what to say. But, he figured it’d be way too corny.

“It’s not about offending you… but alright. You check, I’ll talk… and I’ll be waiting for that kiss.” Trisha smiled warmly at him, eyes creasing with joy at the thought of forever together. That’s what she wanted too. She hoped it would work out like that. That she wouldn’t become too much for him… But she wouldn’t think about that right now. Instead she relaxed against Casey, half closing her eyes.

So… What did you mean by take over?
Silence. A short while, and she asked again. Still silence. So she’d gone back to sleep… that was fine. Trisha didn’t mind. She had said later after all. So instead she tilted her head up, languidly watching Casey.

From the moment she was paying attention to him again, it was clear that Casey was enraptured by the happenings on the other island. His mouth was open wide, and one fist was clenched as he stared in awe. He’d not seen something like that on such a scale since Africa…
He quickly had the glasses off, looking back down at Trisha.
”If you’re done already, Babe, check it the fuck out! Drake Blackmore just disappeared, and now there’s a giant skeleton!” he exclaimed with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas.

Trisha wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. Drake was a dick, but not so much that he deserved to just straight up disappear. And a giant skeleton… but Casey was so excited. She didn’t entirely get it, and there was that irrational jealousy seeing him so enraptured by something that wasn’t her… but she pushed it down as best as she could. He was with her. He’d chosen her over the fight.

“Mm, it was a quick talk,” Trisha smiled, reaching up to take the glasses from him. She put them on and turned towards where Elysium was. The giant skeleton was immediately obvious… then the Sycamore members. Aryin and Jack doing something together, Lila- that bitch- was even more crow than before… Sully was hiding behind a bush that did nothing to hide his bare ass.

That was a picture she wouldn’t get out of her mind.

Then there were people she didn’t recognise. Greenwood and 317, presumably. No Elite members. As far as she was aware, none of them could summon a giant skeleton… so it must be from someone they’d hired. There was nobody dead, and the few members she cared about weren’t there.
“Wow. I didn’t know the Elite had a giant skeleton in the back pocket. At least it doesn’t seem to be going badly?” There was a bit of forced enthusiasm there, because for Trisha seeing magical fights like this- with these people- was too reminiscent of the Stygian Snake days. But Casey’s happiness was hers, so it wasn’t entirely forced.

”Hey, nobody we know is a pasty corpse from what I can see… Not sure what happened to Drake, but whatever, dude’s a Blackmore. If he can’t handle himself, I bet his Dad would’ve killed him a long time ago.”
Casey knew more about the Blackmore lineage than Drake himself. They were one of the rival clans of prominence in this neck of the woods. While he hadn’t known much before his coronation, the imparted knowledge stream included potential enemies… And they were counted among them.

Regardless, Casey pulled the glasses off Trisha’s face and comfortably slid them back into his pocket.
”Still… That’s settled in my mind. No more thinking about it at all. Right?” he asked playfully as they descended back into the misty veil of the island.

And eventually, Trisha would get that kiss. Another rotation, and Casey made it a point to say one thing he thought was beautiful about the city they both came from before giving Trisha a passionate kiss until they descended once more. They must’ve spent an hour on that ride, just talking and passing sweet nothings between one another before the crowds had built up enough. Eventually the attendant simply couldn’t justify continuous rides…

It was plenty of time, and left them looking for the next thrill. What few there were, anyway… Spinning in some kind of circle seemed to be the theme, with a himalaya ride called “The Spiral” letting them both experience a fraction of the g-forces that a fighter pilot would. It wasn’t awful, but Casey couldn’t help noticing that she was absolutely white-knuckled the entire time. Like the machine was bound to snap itself off the track and fly away. It wasn’t going to, of course, as whoever was in charge of this little carnival seemed to be a skilled Orange practitioner.
He made a mental note to find out who was responsible, so he could glean some insight.

The finale of the rides, and the one that looked most dangerous even to Casey, was the seemingly hastily slapped together roller coaster. It wasn’t like one at a major amusement park; this one was scaffolding and wooden blocks holding up ten tons of metal and track. It was a single hill, with one hard loop right after the drop and some twists and turns before arriving back at the beginning.
Nothing to be worried about… Not that it shook, or rattled, or looked like the bolts were about to fall out. This one was touched just the same, so he had to trust it.

That didn’t mean Trisha did, however. No matter how much enthusiasm Casey tried to pour into the situation, he still had to catch the look of death on Trisha’s face as they came off it and down the ramp.
”See!? Not so bad! We’re all done, Babe!” he exclaimed, wrapping her in his arms on solid ground.

“I’m never going on a ride like that again,” Trisha whispered, pressing her whole body against his. It still felt like everything around her was wobbling. Her stomach felt like it was in her mouth. But more than anything, she’d hated how she couldn’t do anything about it the whole time. That was what had been the scariest.

She was trembling slightly, but eventually that subsided as the solidness of him holding her and the ground underneath her feet got through.
“I’m… still glad we did it. Even though I hated it. I wouldn’t have even tried if I wasn’t with you. But I definitely need some kind of massive plushie after that.”

Casey was excited to hear that… While Trisha was panicked on the coaster, Casey was taking the chance to scope out the booths that they hadn’t reached yet… So, he’d been able to keep the perfect secret.
”Oh, my sweet, sweet Trisha Bee… How right you are…”

Like he’d already done several times that day, Casey playfully scooped Trisha out from under herself again… This time probably caused a bit of a panic attack, but there wasn’t a lot that could be done about that. He was going to keep her one hundred percent safe, so she’d just have to get used to it.
And he took off into a full sprint like he’d stolen the prized pumpkin from the county fair, massive feet slapping off the pavement as he made way for the games at the edge of the park.

There, at the center of them all, was a large pool. It was waist height, and chalk full of little metal fishes sitting at the bottom of the water. Each one had a hook on it, and there were rods placed all around the thing. The attending individual was a friendly looking man with a “Women want me, Fish fear me” hat proudly sitting on his head…
But the main attraction was the grand prize… The size of a truck tire, and covered in shaggy orange fuzz, was something that looked like a tiger. But as Casey got close to it and rotated it in his hand, he nearly snapped it off it’s hanger out of excitement. Holding it fully, he turned its face upright and spun it to face Trisha.

In his hands, was a massive orange and black stuffed Bumble Bee. The fuzzy fur was meant to mimic the friendly little ladies, and its face was the cutest and most welcoming cartoon smile that Casey could think of.

“Ooooh, discerning eye, huh? We also have it in Red and the classic Yellow if you’d prefer.” the man offered, waving his hand over his game.
“This game, we call Fishin’ Tycoon. You get seven pulls. You get a matching pair, you get a little guy. Get three of a kind, you get the medium. Four? That’s your prize right there, our humble Bee friend. There’s fifty-two fish in the sea, you see… Just like a deck of cards. Five bucks, seven chances to draw.”

Casey’s face was bright with excitement.
”Well shoot, that’s pretty simple rules. Trisha? You wanna fish-a? Too, I mean?” he blushed slightly.

Trisha’s eyes pulled away from the massive, adorable Bumble Bee to Casey’s lit up face. His excitement was contagious… and she was excited too. She really wanted the bee. It was so big, she wasn’t even sure what they’d do with it… but it was so cute. Just like her girls.

“Fish-a? Sure, I wanna fish-a,” Trisha teased him with a giggle. She couldn’t help but reach up to squeeze one of his cheeks. He was cute too. His excitement and blushing just made her feel so warm. Happy, like she could fully be herself too.

She turned towards the large pool, looking down at it. Then back at Casey. She grinned.
“Sooo, you won’t be upset if I get the four matching fish and win the bee for myself, will you?”

Casey handed over a tenner, shaking his head and smiling.
”Why would I be upset? Like the rest of our lives together, right now, we’re working toward the same goal. If anything, I’d be super excited if you win it… Because that means if the world ends, you’ll be able to go and fish for us so I can focus on something else!” he chided, a finger reaching out to tickle her side playfully.

“Awwww, you’ve got a winner there, Little Lady. That’s a man built for marriage; took me twenty years to piece out somethin’ like that with my wife. Granted, she ‘int know she was my wife, I was living in the crawlspace behind the stairs then… Anyway!!! Iiiiiiiiits Fishing Tycoooooooooon! Grab your rods and fish your seven! Bring ‘em up one at a time, and we’ll reveal the results at the eeeeend!”

Then the man hit a switch, and crazy fishing music started playing. There weren't any other players, so the work wasn’t quite as frenetic as it otherwise would’ve been. While Casey didn’t want to get Trisha wet, since he didn’t want her to be cold, she had no such compunctions. Each flick of the chain on the fishing rod at her end caused water to splash up and spatter across Casey’s jacket and pants. He didn’t mind… It made him smile that she was feeling so playful even after the horrifying roller coaster ride.
Eventually, the two of them had gathered a total of fourteen metal fishes, placed into a basket at the center of the pool which the attendant then pulled out. Two baskets, two people. There were little hangers next to the old man meant for holding the little fish hooks up.

This let the players see the results like a scoreboard, meaning that Casey and Trisha could see their own individual failures… Out of seven, the first three for Casey were duds. After that, two separate pairs meant that he could theoretically pick out two small prizes… But they were all different kinds of clownfish, which were far less appealing.
Trisha had managed to pull a three of a kind and two other pairs, leaving her with a theoretical prize takeaway of either a purple raccoon or a turquoise tortoise (say that five times fast), as well as two fish of her own.

“Well I’ll be damned… I haven’t seen synchronised whiffing like that since the interpretive spoiled milk contest fifteen years ago…”
The man seemed to be pondering the fish as if he were reading the bones… Looking back at the couple, he frowned.
“Y’know… I was gonna say that it was pretty unfortunate, but… Y’know young man? You inspired me to look at things a different way. Like you said, you two? Working together… Sooooo…”

Casey had already spotted the unfortunate circumstance: That between the two of them, they’d managed to pull a four-of-a-kind out of the pond, effectively crushing their chances of either of them getting that set. But, as they were suits of cards with fifty-two in the pond, he had a flashback of all those nights spent playing poker and rummy in the holes.
He had seen the four Aces the moment he realized Trisha had two.

“I think… That because of that, we’re gonna go ahead and accept this four of a kind here! Any objections?” he asked the couple, his hook tool already sliding the four aces off their spots and holding them up for the duo to see.

”Oh, my God!? No way! No objections from me! Babe?” Casey asked.

Trisha had been disappointed too, but trying her best to temper it. She’d still got something. The purple raccoon was cute. It wasn’t quite the bee… but it was cute enough… it had to be…

“Huh?” Trisha looked up from accepting her failure, taking a moment to buffer and process what was said. He was… letting them take the bee? Combining their fish? Seriously?!
“Y-yeah, of course! No objections.” Trisha’s whole face lit up.

She didn’t waste any time in bouncing forward to take the massive orange and black striped bee. It was incredibly soft, the fluff getting right in her face as she grabbed it. And it was massive. More than half her size… the thing had to be about a metre in height. She could barely get her arms around it.
“Look, Babe, it’s practically my size! A Trisha sized bee!” Trisha giggled as she was practically drowned by it. Most of her face was covered, eyes peering over the top of that fluff at him.
“Should we name it?”

”I think its only right we name her Princess! After all, I mean… She’s not the Queen... But, like… Look at her!” Casey was all smiles, pushing close to Trisha and wrapping his arms around the giant bee and her at the same time.

“She really does look like a Princess,” Trisha giggled, leaning into Casey. She just felt so… happy. Genuine unadulterated joy.
“She’s so cute…”

”Holy crap, I mean… Mister, thank you! Seriously, we’ve… Got a thing for Bees!”

“Oh, I could tell from the initial excitement. I just hope you two treat Princess very well. Maybe, uh… Y’know… Some kind of protective spell.”
Casey’s eyes narrowed. Instantly, Trisha would be able to feel a flare of White Lux across her Emotional Field. Casey’s hair jumped slightly in response, receiving the feedback that confirmed his suspicions.

He smiled. The old man smiled back.
”I’m sure we can find someone to do that… I can only hope that she looks as good as the rides around here do in twenty years time.”

The old man only giggled.
“Just be sure to spend some time at the other booths too… Ey, Tiger?”
”Aye, Captain. Will do…”

After that, the whole time was spent collecting a myriad of other forest friends for Princess to crowd around herself. The raccoon made a return at the baseball booth after Casey dumped ten dollars into trying to legitimately hit the grand prize target and missing. Trisha had wound up winning it herself in the end…
Another giant friend came at the cost of a little extra stress, as the shooting gallery was an absolute shooin’ for victory.

Only for Casey to embarrassingly prove that this particular booth was painfully rigged. Probably a holdover from the days that Soldiers had been the main participants, the moving targets were wound so tightly to their spool that no matter how many times he shot them, they wouldn’t fall.
Eventually the younger teen running the booth was so shocked that he had to get the old man… Not expecting to see them again, he could only laugh and brush over the little targets with a “special rag” that would “loosen the mechanism”.

This time, it was a much bigger version of the tortoise from before, this time in a deep forest green that Casey loved dearly. It made him think of his own tank bound pal at home, and he happily named the massive thing “Sherman” after the famous American tanks.
Eventually they came to the end, where there were some booths that had different carnival foods. Fried dough, cotton candy; anything one could think of.

Casey couldn’t help himself, and ordered a big cup of soda, a sealed bag of caramel popcorn, and an equally large bag of cotton candy to bring back to the hotel and beyond. Now sitting on one of the benches and ripping a piece out of the bag for Trisha and himself, he took a deep breath.
”I think we’re gonna have to go back to the room with all this stuff… Unless you don’t mind me using a bit of funny magic to make our lives easier?” he asked calmly and matter-of-factly.

“You can use magic, it’s not like… I mind you using it,” Trisha replied, tilting her head a little bit. She reached out to take a piece of candy and pop it into her mouth, letting it melt there before continuing.
“I’m not against magic use, or anything, I just don’t want to get dependent on it. Unless… by a bit funny you mean there’s some wild side effect of making our lives easier. We won’t, like, turn the colour of the plushies or something will we?”

”No, absolutely not. It just looks really goofy, and I’ll probably need to use your pockets too. It’s not infinite storage since I don’t know Purple Lux. But, I can affect the dimensions of a space to a certain extent due to my control over the object’s adherence to reality. I call them ‘Clown Pockets.’”

His hand slipped up to his jacket, glove rubbing the large outer side pocket. He then proceeded to pull the mouth of the pocket open, and open a bit more… And more… And more again, until it was finally big enough to accept Sherman being stuffed into it and closing without a second thought. All that was there was a little bulge… Presumably the absolute maximum extent of the spell. He then did it to the other pocket, stuffing his snacks and most of the other smaller plushies down into the abyssal pocket.

”Later when I deactivate the spell, it’s gonna spew everything out all over the hotel room, so it’ll be like a plushie rain.” he giggled. Then he outstretched his hand.
”Now you…”

Trisha stared at the effect of the spell before shuffling around to offer up the right pocket of her coat. She made sure to scoop the few bees that had ended up in there out, depositing them in the other one instead. It didn’t look too goofy. At least not so goofy when the spell was done that she felt she couldn’t walk around like that.

“Go on, clown my pocket,” she giggled, picking up and holding out Princess at the same time.
“At least I won’t risk bumping into things if she’s in my pocket like that… and the plushie rain sounds like a fun way to end the day. Like a little… celebration for a perfect date.”

Casey pushed up close to Trisha, a smile crossing his face as he held onto her coat. His hands massaged the coat around the pocket, and he chuckled loudly.
”Honk honk honk…”

And Trisha would be able to feel the pocket giving way to her arm stretching it, though it was only the mouth that comically widened, while the bottom of the pocket remained stationary in wait for cargo to accept. Casey helped keep it open, and Princess the giant bee slipped snuggly into place inside the magically fixed pocket. There was only a small bulge left where the bee’s girth was at its widest to even give a hint to its existence within.

”That’s a clown pocket if I’ve ever seen one. Feel weird? You good? I’m… I’m definitely gonna come back here tomorrow before we leave, and buy like six sausage sandwiches to bring home. Something about tube meat in a bun makes it… Appealing again? Intestines are the only thing I ever saw and went like… Yummy…” Casey offered a bit of insight into a half-broken mind with a not-so-hidden grin.

“All good, feels just like a normal pocket,” Trisha smiled at him, while she tried to process what he said about sausages and intestines. She wasn’t exactly the most squeamish thanks to everything she’d seen during the Stygian Snake… But she hadn’t seen guts like that. Loads of horrendous injuries, but she didn’t remember seeing intestines… It was a strange way to think about them. But she didn’t find herself feeling in any way negative towards it. This was Casey. She loved him. So if he was able to eat sausages unlike other meat because of a strange association? Good.

“Will they last all the way home? We could just… buy sausages and buns and make them… can’t be that hard, can it?” Trisha asked, tilting her head a bit. Acknowledge what he said about intestines, don’t acknowledge it… she probably should.
“Just the intestines? Aren’t there… other parts of the body that’re like… tube meat?”

Casey laughed aloud.
”The dick doesn’t tend to last through a bomb blast. But there’s a lot of intestines. They tend to splatter or coil or, y’know, they hang. Get on things. Links remind you of the butchers, since the muscle-”
Casey’s eyebrows furrowed, and he shook his head.
”-you don’t want to hear about that. Arms sometimes. Legs, no. It’s not pretty usually.”

He thought about the prospect of sausage sandwiches from home and wondered if Andrade had a technique for imparting that smokey grill flavor without the grill. And the onions. The peppers… It always tasted so good from the fucking stands, he rarely ever thought about making one himself.
His hand reached out and offered itself to Trisha.
”C’mon Babe. Still want to go to the shops? Or you wanna take a break before dinner?” he asked gently, thinking about that little gun shop and whether or not he’d have to come back later.

“I want to shop- what’s the point of a date if we just do what we’d do at home?” Trisha took his hand immediately, fingers threading through his. It was a bit ironic coming from the person who’d suggested they stay in bed earlier… But that was because of the mood. Now that they were out she wanted to enjoy being out with him. While the rides had been intense and not the most enjoyable experience, she wasn’t tired enough to need rest. Honestly… shopping was something she could do in almost any condition.
“Where first? The nice smelling shop, or… do you want to go to the gun one first?”

”Which one is more boring? We’ll get the worst done first.” he offered, feeling her hand in his and welling up with a sense of joy and love that he wasn’t used to. At least, not until recently. Her. She was all the love and joy he needed to keep going.

“More boring for me or for you?” Trisha asked teasingly, with a little giggle. It was pretty obvious which one would be more boring for him… And she didn’t really have a preference. She wasn’t really interested in guns, but she was looking forward to watching him look at them. She’d enjoy his enjoyment…
“Nice smelling one first, then. Candles are just objectively more boring than guns, right?”

Casey shrugged his shoulders.
”Candle Making is an ancient art! Definitely objectively cool. But uh… We’ll probably spend more time in the gun store anyway. Unless they’ve got nothing, obviously. There’s a chance of that, since it’s such a small place.”

His bad rambling habit aside, Casey took the first stride forward out of the fairground and back toward the main strip of stores nearby. Careful to let Trisha follow along as opposed to dragging her, they made their way back around the bend and down toward the coastline, waves crashing as evening started to settle in. It was a beautiful place, even with the constant mist generally obscuring the path ahead.
Casey hadn’t checked on Elysium since they’d been on the Ferris Wheel, and was satisfied by the lack of calls being made to his cell. Nothing bad happened… Probably.

So, Casey contemplated: Why do I feel so strange?
His brow furrowed, and he looked down at Trisha. His White Lux rippled across her very noticeably. But he didn’t let her sit waiting for an explanation.

”Babe? Are you… Making any funky gas? Y’know, your pheromones? I’m getting this really weird feeling…” he asked her, concern in his voice despite his walking pace not slowing down.

Trisha looked up at him with some confusion, feeling the White Lux wash over her. There was a reactive pheromonal response, but only one that had her bees crawling out of their various hiding spots with equal confusion to hers. Just her normal pheromones. He’d be able to sense the light waves coming off her with his magic. But she was always giving them off a little, so it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

“Not that you’d feel.” She shook her head, trying to press down the panicked feelings in her gut that could lead to those pheromones. It was Casey’s concern- getting a weird feeling. It was probably nothing, right? But it could be something.
“I can make you feel angry, panicked, or more attracted to me- not weird. It’s not me.”

”Panic applies… Probably just anxiety from some shitty memory. China got real foggy like this, that’s probably it.”
Casey’s arms pulled Trisha just a bit closer than she had been. Just enough.
”Can you get some of the girls to look around for us? Just… Ahead? Off on the sides, behind us. Fan ‘em out?”

He was a little embarrassed about asking her to do this. Mostly because he didn’t want to kill the joy of the date. They’d had such a nice time, after all. How could he make a big deal out of anything after that? But he was, only so much as he felt like it was necessary.
”I’m sorry… I hate to ask.” he confided quietly.

“It’s okay, I can,” Trisha replied softly, furrowing her brow. Maybe it was just anxiety. Though, it wasn’t coming from her. Her control wasn’t perfect but she knew when she was using those pheromones. They’d smell it, too. But it could just be him… and she didn’t mind doing something to put his mind at ease.

She only had about twenty with her, but that should be enough. She carefully split them into pairs, pausing in place as she did so. It was difficult for her to walk and command… She had to give each pair a slightly different direction, with the same instruction of looking around. For what? Suspicious people… but bees couldn’t tell that. People at all? Think about how it had been with the Stygian Snake when she used them to scout… just report to her what was around. Movements.

Most of the bees took off, leaving a small amount clinging to her neck. She looked back up at Casey.
“I can sense them, but it’s fainter the further they get away. I have to concentrate a bit more on it. They don’t really… understand what they’re looking for, but I’ll know if there’s anyone around.”

”If you can, pump them a little bit.”
What’s wrong with you?
”Wait, no! No… Just keep them nearby. Enough that you’re not straining. We don’t need to see too far, just let them be around. And keep going to the store.”

He was so used to those silly tactics… The ones that didn’t place a great deal of care for human life. Plenty of units had at least one or two Black adepts responsible for frontline recovery and recon. The dead made the best flank guards, seeing as how they couldn’t complain and their re-death usually didn’t affect the Necromancer. But these bees were part of Trisha… They were part of her sensory systems. She felt each and every death. He couldn’t send them out as bait to tempt a strike, or they’d die.

But the shops were close.
”I’m gonna pull you… I’m sorry!”
If there was anything Casey was good at, it was directional communication. Clear declaration of intent was key to battlefield communication.

Trisha would feel her arm tugged and pulled up into a jog. Casey brought them up to the side of the building, then took a deep breath.
”You’re not gonna be able to get a clear communication with them from inside, are you? Pull ‘em in.”

Trisha just shook her head a moment after he spoke, reaction delayed. She was having to process the pheromones being sent to her by the scout bees while making sure they knew where she was to follow. Then there was a translation- understanding what they were telling her, which was like a second nature to her now, and separating the useless information from useful. Most of this felt useless. But it wasn’t their fault, they couldn’t really understand.

But it was frustrating she couldn’t do anything to help. If this was something, rather than paranoia. But she trusted Casey.
All the bees she’d sent out came back, landing on her body and crawling into her jacket to hide themselves before they went inside the shop. Unlike her, they were happy to have done what they’d been told- a job well done to the girls.
“I’m sorry, they didn’t see anything. Well, they saw things, but it was all just… objects…”

Casey was quick to give Trisha a reassuring pat on the rear.
”You’re doin’ great, Babe. It’s a muscle, right? Gotta keep it worked out.”
He wasn’t going to clarify whether or not it was a drill. It wasn’t, but she didn’t need to get too panicked by thinking that it was totally out of their control.

So he did his best to calmly sweep around the building to the front and into the shop. It smelled like gunmetal, a little sulfur, mineral lubricants and cigarettes. The main display consisted of a dozen hand-crafted six-shooters tucked into velvet boxes matching each piece’s aesthetic.
Casey felt a little safer just looking at them. His face lit up immediately, and he gravitated toward them.

There were handles with pearl, blue-steel frames pressed with all sorts of different designs, gold trim and ebony wood. Each one was a little art piece of its own. Casey’s finger pointed up, his body able to take a breath and smile properly at Trisha.

”See, these are nice show pieces! Put ‘em high on a wall in a glass case, get the Smith’s stamp of approval and hang it alongside? It’s just a 3-D picture, right?” he asked with a chuckle.

As Casey seemed to relax, Trisha did too. If anywhere was safe, it was a gun shop… assuming any possible threat hadn’t gotten to the guns first. But he had magic to control objects, so it was fine even in that very hypothetical situation. She slotted in against his side, leaning into him slightly as she followed his finger up to the show pieces. They were aesthetically pleasing to the eye, even if she didn’t really understand it.

But he was happy about it, so she smiled and nodded. Still, she couldn’t help but ask…
“Can you use them? I see how it’s like a 3-D picture, but… art’s just art. I don’t entirely understand why you’d display a gun you then can’t use. Can it not be practical and nice looking?” Her tone was completely earnest, looking up at him with an open expression. Not judging, just wanting to understand.

”Uhh…-”
The question gave Casey a bit of a stop-start sensation in his brain. He wasn’t expecting the practical nature hidden behind her typically unassuming exterior. But she was right; there’d be no point if you couldn’t use them.
”-I mean, you can? They just require a lot of maintenance to stay pretty like they are… From regular people, I mean. Me? It stays nice. Y’know, one of the first real spells I made was to keep maintenance down to a minimum, but now that I’m home I still clean them. Every single time.”

He turned his head to look around. By that time, someone had come out from the back. Unassuming man, exactly what one would expect someone working behind the counter at a gun store to look like. That, plus the fishing Uncle at the game back in the park. Casey threw him a nod and a wave, looking back to the revolvers in the display.

“They are for sale! Unaccepted commissions; stuff we’ve had sent back that wasn’t up to grade for the customer.”

Casey chuckled to himself.
”Oh? Just aesthetic disagreements I hope.” he said with a calm and firm reply.

“Tags’ll say what happened. But, yeah. Generally speaking, it’s dumb stuff that either the original customer wasn’t clear on, or legitimate goofs on our part. Both we cover, and hope that someone else can appreciate the piece as it is. They’re up on our website too…”

Casey nodded, looking down at Trisha again.
”You like any of ‘em? Not that they’d be for you, but one you could deal with looking at? I wanna put it over the mantle at home. I was also thinking we could get you something you like preemptively. Or, y’know, not. It’s fine. There’d be paperwork and stuff for both of us to do.” he shrugged.

“Something I like… for me to use?” Trisha asked, head turning from looking up at Casey to looking at the show pieces. One that she could deal with looking at… They all looked nice enough. And she really wasn’t that fussy about how they decorated their home, as long as it didn’t look sterile. Or he didn’t start putting up so many guns there was more gun than wall.

She pointed to one that’s intricate design seemed vine-like. Reminiscent of a forest floor on a gun.
“That one’s nice. But none of them are bad... it’s not like you’re asking to hang up some massive rifle on the wall. That’s just my preference from them all. And I’m fine to fill out paperwork… as long as it’s with you, even that can be fun.” Her voice got a bit softer towards the end, quiet enough so only he could hear.

”We make everything fun… But yeah I was eyeing that one too.”
The one she picked out had the ebony grip, which Casey appreciated as an aesthetic choice with the vines traveling across the cylinder and up the barrel. Like some kind of dead rose bush or something reaching out to nothing.

”I wonder what kind of person ordered that.”
Looking closer at the specimen, Casey found the tag on display.
Carving/Engraving Error: Lack of excess material for further design.
Casey shook his head and laughed.
”Oh, boy… Alright, aptitude test. No failure pressure, I don’t have any idea if you’ll put it together. But what do you think that tag means for like… The gun, y’know? Like, reading that, what do you think that description means?”

Trisha's face scrunched up slightly, nose wrinkling and lips pursing. It was cutely thoughtful, even if internally she was panicking just a little bit. He said there was no failure pressure, but failing was failing. Her eyes narrowed at the tag, then at the gun itself, as if that would help answer. What does it mean for the gun? Her initial reaction was they ran out of materials to create the rest of the design… but that wouldn’t really affect the gun. Or would it, when it was mostly for aesthetics? Did they want to make a second matching one? No, that didn’t make sense either.

She was thinking way too hard about it, but she wanted to get it right. Maybe her gut instinct was right? It… seemed like it could be… what was the worst thing that could happen? Well, she’d fail, and Casey might be disappointed in her, and then he might-
“It couldn’t be completed properly? Like they needed to use different material for part of it, or there was meant to be more to the design?”

”More or less, yeah!”
He smiled at her, rubbing her shoulders gently and planting a kiss on her head.
”I bet what happened was that whoever was in charge of taking down the requirements for the commission did a poor job of explaining that there was supposed to be something else. So, when they realized the mistake, they’d already thinned out the metal too much. Especially around the barrel there; see how all the vines spiral together at the end? Too thin, it’s brittle and dangerous to shoot. So, they didn’t leave any extra material to work with. Hence the card..”

He knew she was going to get it. She used her brain for a living as far as he was aware… The man at the counter laughed.
“Yeah, we actually had the grip all carved wrong too. No room for the flowers that the customer wanted.”

It was nice to hear someone talk about a work mistake casually without fausting the blame back onto the customer. The guy could’ve implied it was the commissioner’s fault, or blamed anyone down the line… But facts were facts, and if they’d put the gun together like it was without a key piece of flair, he wouldn’t have accepted it either.
”Did it make it to the Customer?” Casey asked.

“Naaaah, we’re pretty good about keeping them posted through the process. The guy saw a picture of it one week, said it looked great, next week we said we were finished and he went ’Oh, so are you gonna weld the flowers on?’”

Casey laughed aloud.
”Oh, God no…”

“Yep! So, total do-over. Guy was mad, but probably not as mad as if he’d gotten it when he wanted it and it wasn’t right.”

”Amen. Can you wrap her up for me? And then we’re gonna be looking at compacts. Twenty-two, or nine mil maybe. You guys don’t have a range, do you?”

“Not a range, no. What we do have, however, is a neat little recoil machine. It’s kind of a toy, we got it for people stopping in as a kind of catch. But, it does work for what it is. I’ll bring you to it while I set this up… Y’all purchasing two?”

”The case gun, and then we’re looking for her first-timer, yeah.”

The man waved them around the corner into a closed off section of the store. There was an arcade-like machine set up to simulate a mock shooting range, and some fake guns attached to it that one could pull out like those standing arcade games. There was also a big screen with a digital target on it. On the panel, there were a billion different settings and selections on a smaller touch screen.

“Alright, so I reckon you’re not a novice?” the man asked Casey calmly.

”No sir, not at all. This is quite the setup, pretty intuitive. Does…-”
Casey’s finger was already sliding across the menu screen.
”-It’s got different powder loads and everything? That’s pretty intense, you can adjust it to feel exactly how the gun would feel stock.”

The man puffed his chest with a little pride.
“It’s a pretty solid piece of equipment. Bored on a slow day, I can come over here and plink away all day.”

Casey turned to Trisha.
”This is gonna help. It’s not dangerous at all. There’s like, motors and pistons in these things-” he said, swinging his hand to address the fake guns holstered in the machine.
”And so basically what we can do is let you feel the recoil. You can test what hurts your wrist and what doesn’t, and we can adjust from there.”

Seeing Casey already had a handle on things, the man nodded and stepped away toward the case with the revolver in it to prep it for Casey.

Trisha’s head tilted slightly as she stared at the machine. It was completely different to any she’d seen - though that was mostly just the type you’d actually get in an arcade. She tried not to think about what had happened the last time they were in front of a shooting arcade machine. This was completely different. A lot had changed since then too.

“You’re going to have to set it up for me. I don’t even know what gun to pick up. Or how to hold it.” She looked over at all the fake guns, then up at Casey.
“You’ll have to show me how to do that too… I assume if I hold it wrong it’ll hurt my wrist even if it's the right, uh, size? Or whatever we’re checking?”

Casey nodded, holding his hand out to the machine.
”What we’re gonna do is try some small calibers, see which you like. And yeah, hopefully this machine is accurate enough that we can kind of get you started on holding it right. How uh… Do you remember how it felt to shoot that gun the other day? With the cat?” he asked, gently explaining what was going to happen next for full clarity.

Trisha furrowed her brow, trying to remember the feeling. There’d been a lot going on then. She’d been incredibly panicked. That was the only reason she’d even been able to shoot it…
“I think so. It was heavier than I expected, and kind of pushed back at me. But I just picked it up and pulled the trigger in a panic, so I wasn’t really thinking.”

Casey nodded.
”Probably wouldn’t matter too much anyway. My pistol is so tuned with magic a baby could- We’ll get to that when we get there. For now, for your education and information, we’ll try this.”

Fingers sliding across the screen, Casey selected the nine millimetre caliber at a very basic grain level. Pulling the corresponding gun out of the slot, it was a pistol maybe six inches in length, and he very intentionally slid it into her hand.
”Lesson one. Never keep your finger on the trigger of a gun. If you’re not about to shoot-”

His hand crept against hers and rubbed it gently before pushing her index finger onto the trigger guard.
”-you keep your finger here. Just about every gun has one. The trigger guard. Blocks stuff from shooting the gun accidentally, including your fingers.”

Then he was behind her, free hand rubbing her shoulder while the other held hers in position. He slid that free hand down to her own, and brought it up underneath the gun. The mechanism was definitely an interesting modern haptic setup, and to be wireless to boot? It was impressive this little shop had such an expensive piece of equipment.
Regardless, Trisha’s hand seemed to slot into place under the magazine just fine.

”And then you support what you’re doing from this point. Can you make a seal-”

The education went on for some time with Casey moving Trisha into as good of a position as he could and showing her how to work the safety. It ended up being a real touch-fest, and Casey was trying to be playful while still being educational. Keeping the mood light. Eventually the time came for her to pull the trigger.

”Okay… Now, go ahead and slide your finger onto that trigger. Hold it in your hands firmly, but don’t squeeze because that messes up your shot. Align the dots like we talked about, and…-”

His hands let go of her, air replacing his warm embrace.

”- Remember the feeling. The stance. Ask yourself if you feel comfortable. And if you’re confident? Take the shot. Expect recoil.”

Trisha didn’t feel confident at all. At least, she didn’t feel confident she wouldn’t fuck it up somehow. Miss horrible- if this machine even registered that. It wasn’t a real gun, at least. She couldn’t shoot herself or someone else. But there’d been a lot of information passed over all at once. While she’d taken it in surprisingly well while it was mixed with playful touches and his warmth, she was going to have to go through it a couple of times. Would she really be able to get into this stance again? Hold it correctly?

She was trying her best to remember it all, and the feeling of the fake gun in her hands. If she hesitated more it would be obvious she wasn’t confident, and then it would seem like she wasn’t taking any of it in but she was.
Her whole face was scrunched up from concentrating so hard, and she tried her best to not squeeze it and align the dots. But as she pulled the trigger, she squeezed the whole gun, messing up her shot. The recoil was worse than she expected too.

“Ow,” Trisha pouted slightly. Obviously her wrists were weaker than she thought… or maybe she just wasn’t used to it. She tilted her head up towards Casey, still pouting.
“You planned this fancy date so we didn’t end up at a shooting range, yet we still ended up here. I can’t believe you.” It was hopefully obvious she was just joking as her pout curved up into a more teasing smile.

Casey’s first instinct was to comfort her. Despite the jump in her shot and the resulting unsteady recoil, she at least held onto the thing. He was surprised that it had a full slide function and everything. His eyes narrowed, and he slid the gun out of Trisha’s hand for a moment. Without taking much of a stance, he drew and aimed at the board, then pulled the trigger for himself.
”Well, that’s pretty much dead on I’d say. So, how hurt is it?”

Pulling out his glove, Casey suavely slipped the machine back into its holster and swung his arm down to hold Trisha’s wrist in his hand. He kissed the top of her head, letting a basic version of wound detection radiate across her arm. Nothing major, he figured- No broken bones or ligaments, no serious tears. Rupturing of blood vessels, some bruising for later maybe. But nothing a warrior who fought the Stygian Snake couldn’t handle. Even if she did downplay it.

”You think you wanna try again? Or do you want me to swap down to a slightly lower power cartridge?” he asked her with a gentle teacher’s questioning voice.

“It depends," Trisha frowned, dropping her hand to rub her wrist. It didn't exactly help. It was a bit tender to touch, in fact. She didn't exactly want to make a major fuss about something that came from her own physical weakness.
“How many times do you think I'd have to shoot? It's not so bad that I couldn't do that a couple of times… or was it because I squeezed the gun? And I wouldn't hurt if I did it properly?"

She didn't really know much about guns. What Casey asked didn't mean much to her, aside from her assumption it would recoil less, and…
“What’s the difference with a lower power cartridge?"

Casey liked where her head was at: Trisha was asking all the right questions, and he could only grin widely as he got to answer them.
”Oh… I’d say you’d maybe have to do it five times in a row.”

Sparing her a long diatribe, he decided to just give her the most grim scenario without exactly telling her: That she managed to see whatever contact was coming, and that she did draw and fire. Maybe in a panic, she gets it. She’s not going to stop firing until its done, and it’ll hurt… But five times accurately.

Because if those missed? She’d need one hell of a wall of bees to block the returns.

”Accurately, five times in a row. And as far as the lower power; for our purposes it’s just to gauge what’s most comfortable for your wrist and arms as it stands. If you’re not comfortable, you’re never going to want to shoot it, right?” he asked, knowing full well that anything could be adjusted.

Trisha nodded as she took in what he said. Five shots… she couldn't do five shots with that. Not unless she was desperate and willing to get hurt like that. And that wasn't the point. It was meant to be something she felt she could defend herself with… like he said, she'd never want to shoot it if she wasn't comfortable.

“Right… Then I want to try the lower power cartridge to see how it feels. Unless I'm going to hit the gym and work out my arms and wrists…." She laughed lightly. She didn't feel very confident about the whole thing… but Casey wanted her to have a pistol, and to learn how to use it. So she'd really try.
“I’m going to have to practice a lot to accurately shoot that many times… or at all."

Eyes narrowed, Casey’s finger scrolled through the machine’s options while his free hand kept rubbing Trisha’s wrist. He didn’t want her to be too uncomfortable.
”I’m going to make… A controversial decision. But its one I think you’ll wind up appreciating more later on.”

His fingers tapped away, and then he pulled the fake pistol out again to hand over to Trisha.

”Depending on the bullet and its properties, I have different spells that do different things. If we’re going to get you comfortable with shooting any kind of gun without magic, it should at least be a platform that I can easily work with later on. That way, you’ll have the perfect fit for you. What you used was a nine millimeter. Roughly four and a half foot-pounds of recoil energy driving back at you.”

Slowly, he started to maneuver her back into stance.
”It doesn’t sound like a lot when you put it like that, but four and a half pounds travelling at a pretty high momentum is enough to do exactly what that did: Hurt your wrist. This caliber shaves off roughly a third of that energy.”

Casey’s massive hands were gentle as he reset Trisha tenderly into position.
”Take all the time you need. Fire when ready, and always point the gun forward toward your target before you ever touch the trigger.”

“Y’know I don't know enough about guns to understand what's controversial or not? You're going to have to explain that to me too," Trisha smiled up at Casey.

She carefully did what Casey said, making sure the gun was pointed forward at the board. Her finger moved off the trigger guard and into the trigger itself. It took her a moment to remember exactly what he said… hold it firmly, align the dots. Then pull the trigger.

It still wasn't perfect. She struggled with pulling the trigger with one finger while not squeezing with the others, making the shit shaky again. It recoiled back, and her already tender wrist wasn't particularly happy about it. But it felt more comfortable. She could tell that there hadn't been as much backward force with it.
“I think that felt better? It still hurt a bit but… I guess that's something I'm going to have to work on? My shooting and my strength?"

Casey nodded affirmingly.
”Better is good! Better is way better than you crying or yelling, right? You’re exactly correct. There’s gonna be a while where you maybe just have to want to shoot the gun. Then you’ll get used to it, like any other workout.”

He stuffed the gun back into the slot again, and the monitor responded by opening back up to let him flip through again.
”Just for shits and giggles-” he laughed to himself, flicking through the menus again until he handed the gun back one last time.
”-Try this. And see if you can stance up yourself.”

“You haven't made it super powerful, have you?" Trisha looked up at him with joking suspicion.
“If it breaks my wrist I really will cry and yell.”

With a teasing smile, she tried her best to get back into the right stance. At least she hadn’t really moved her legs, and she could kind of remember the feeling. It was just getting her hands and fingers in the right places. It was obvious that she was thinking pretty hard as she tried to remember everything he’d said. If she’d known this was going to end up as an impromptu shooting lesson she would’ve brought a notebook…

Eventually, she managed to remember it all. She’d been slow and methodical, going through things in the same order Casey had when first showing her. Useless in a real situation where she had to use it, but at least she’d remembered it. Then she took aim, pulling the trigger. It still shook a bit, but it was an improvement again.
And it barely pushed back at all.

“That didn’t hurt- is that, like, a gun with no bullets?” Trisha asked, looking up at Casey with raised eyebrows.
“Or ones without much power? It practically felt like nothing- but if it was useful everyone would go for that, right?”

”That was good ol’ twenty-two. The bane of small rodents and varmints across the world. It’s a real little bullet, meant for shooting at like rabbits or skunks; shit on the farm that you don’t want there. But anything much bigger than the local rodent population, you start to have complications. And so do I: There’s not much bullet to enchant there.” he answered, placing one last kiss on the top of her head.

”But regardless of that, good job Babe. You tried it out, and now we know. I’ll probably hold off buying anything for you here. The paperwork we’d need to do for getting that second one would be more than either of us probably want to do tonight. Unless you really want to get it over with.”

“Aw, but I really wanted to go rodent hunting next,” Trisha pouted playfully. She put the pistol she was still holding back in its holster, before turning properly towards Casey. She tilted her body forward, arms going around him while her face pressed into his chest.
“Taking my reward for trying now… Mmm, comfy. And you’re right, I don’t really want to be stuck doing paperwork tonight. I’m fine with this, but paperwork isn’t a great date activity.”

She tilted her head back to look up at him with a mischievous smile, chin still pressing into his chest.
“Tonight’s for cuddling and other fun things.”

Casey’s grin only widened as he shook his head slightly.
”God, you’re stripping me with your eyes… I’m so uncomfortable.” he joked, laughing as he took both her hands and brought them upward.

”Come on… Don’t you wanna douse me in something nice before you unwrap me?” he asked in reference to the other shop he had intended on stopping by.
”Let me just wrap up here.”

Trisha’s eyes widened innocently even as her smile widened and became even more teasing. She was fine with him wrapping everything up but… she couldn’t help a little joke back.
“Who said anything about stripping? Your mind’s the one going straight to the gutter, Babe… I could’ve meant any kind of fun!”

Casey just grinned down at her like a beam of sunshine.
”You’re gonna be a problem one day… A problem I want, maybe, but still.” he giggled, wrapping his arm around her and finally stepping away from the interesting almost arcade-like machine.

---

There was another hour or so spent with Casey filing forms to own the gun legally, the paperwork, pulling up his military record and the like. At least it was the modern day, and they had computers to do most of the work.

Once they were done, Casey had his new purchase in its temporary case and tucked into a bag which he held by his side. Better to have the easy access just in case. However, that was instinct tricking the poor man, as he’d chosen not to get any bullets. Intending to keep it as a trophy, Casey didn’t even think about wanting to shoot it. It was just on hand now as they made way for the perfume store.
Thankfully, nobody needed to wave a firearm around in there. It was a peaceful and mellow atmosphere, and while Trisha had a slightly hard time adjusting the bees at first, they managed to spend another hour there. Time was spent popping the tops on candles, finding a nice potpourri blend for the house, and the two of them spraying each other with scents and taking great huffs of the stuff.

They couldn’t possibly outspend the gun purchase, even though they were coming out with bags of candles for later. The sun was down on the island now, and the air was brisk as the fog was thick. It almost felt like walking through a thin sheet of ice with each passing step, and looking back would reveal the traveler’s path with increasingly darkening gaps.

In this air, Casey felt a bit more alive. He hated the heat, especially having spent so much of his military service in hot climates. The heat wasn’t nice, and you could only strip down to your bare essentials before the sun became an unstoppable discomfort. Why not take the long way back to the room? Their little pillbox they were sharing the night in. So, rather than the direction most exact to their destination, he casually wandered them off toward a path that he knew went toward a set of battlements. Something to overlook the ocean, and from which they could pivot back toward the warmth of their room.

There were still lights out here. Park lights, like little beacons evenly spaced out one after another. But everything faded away in that fog. Seeing ahead of you was part guess no matter what.
”Uhohhhh… Are we… Lost?” Casey finally said in a very sarcastic tone.

”I guess we’ll have to just, like, wander around forever. Until we die of frostbite.”

“See, now you’re just asking for trouble,” Trisha giggled in response. She’d shuffled as close to Casey as was possible while walking, sucking in the gentle warmth he was radiating. It was really cold now that the sun had dipped below the horizon, but she didn’t entirely mind it. She was dressed for the weather, at least.

“Isn’t the best way to survive those conditions to strip and cuddle? Or maybe it isn’t, and the people that find our bodies will be in for a shock.”

”Enough shock to take pictures; they’ll never see something so perfect again probably.”
Casey wiggled his eyebrows at her playfully, giggling as they walked along. The sound of the shore being constantly hit by wave after wave of water echoed in the near distance, telling them they were close to the beach without being able to see it. At this point, at least there were small stone barriers preventing any mistaken wandering off the path.

”So… Good day spent? Do it again sometime?” he asked in a very casual way.

“Hmmm…” Trisha pretended to think about it, as if there was anything to think about. Of course it was. Of course she wanted to do it again sometime. And again, and again. More than that, she was thinking about how she wanted to answer. Jokingly? Keep it casual? Or be more honest?

She felt she owed him it, after he’d done all of this for her… he already knew that her past partners hadn’t really treated her in the same way. Not that they’d all treated her badly. Not at all, just… not the same.
“Definitely. It’s… the nicest date I’ve ever been on. Thank you for putting so much effort in for me. I haven’t really… had that before. Or think I could.” She smiled up at him, opening herself up just a bit. It was a further admittance of the past, after all.

Casey smiled back down at her, arm curling her tighter to him as she spoke. It felt very real to him, like she’d really felt that in her heart. He’d done a great job of not reading her expressions, or the inflection in her voice, and just accepted what she had to say as the truth. It was trust.
”They’re not all gonna be hits, but I promise we’ll try and do something interesting no matter what. But if you’ll be there with me, Trisha, then they’ll always be good.” he spoke softly, looking down at her with the same expression she gave him.

Genuine care.

”Thanks for putting up with all the bullshit around me.” he warmly intoned.
Feet stopped against the cobblestones, and he held Trisha in place with both arms now. He had her wrapped up in a loving embrace.

”I love you.”

“I love you too.” Trisha smiled softly, her arms wriggling under his coat and around him. She felt comfortable… happy. Properly happy. And she really did love him. It wasn’t just going along with him saying it or jumping to it in an attempt to cling. It was fast, but she’d always been fast… she’d just never had someone get there first. Or truly love her.

“As long as it’s with you, and there’s effort… you’re right, they’ll always be good. I’m not that fussy.”

They were at the very edge of the battlement now, with nothing but open rocky coastline beneath them. It made sense to build the fort here, this naturally defensible cliffside cutting off an entrance from the sea entirely. They were so high up that Casey never would’ve expected any kind of gust to blow a heavy amount of water up.

So getting doused in the face by a wave’s worth of water all at once was more than jarring.

Alarmed at the suddenness of the waterblast, Casey was immediately on high alert.
”Woah, what the fuck!?” he shouted, scrambling back from the coast still tightly holding Trisha.

Shock quickly became panic as Trisha went from being hit by water that shouldn’t be this high to half dragged, half carried, away from the coast. Her legs sluggishly responded to help getting away. It was more difficult to suppress the reactive pheromones, the lightest scent of citrus leaking out from her before being blown away. The bees started buzzing in her coat.
“I-it was just a freak wave, right?”

”Who you callin’ a freak, Babe!?”
There was another massive wash against the side of the battlement that sent water spraying into the air. Only a dark figure half lost in the mist followed the wave up and over, the deep blue of a surfboard practically black in the evening’s shadow.

Bedecked in an all-black wetsuit and standing beside a surfboard where the waves had impacted, was a tall and thin man whose long blonde hair couldn’t help but poke out the sides of his wetsuit’s hood. Pulling it away revealed long, paper thin blonde hair in waves and waves that fell from his head.

”Frankly, I’d back off the Fella! S’cuz we’re, like, not looking for you. Keep yerself safe, Ch’ya?”

Casey had already tucked Trisha behind him.
”My suitcase… My carry is in my suitcase!” Casey’s voice was very directive, and his head turning to the side as if to speak to Trisha directly was key in that.

He was telling her to run. To get his weapon. To save herself at least. Really, he just couldn’t beg the thought of her getting hurt. To a man who had been through what he’d been through, everything was a weapon…

Trisha didn’t want to leave him. Her hands gripped the back of his jacket tightly as her mind raced through the options. She only had twenty bees. Any pheromones she blasted would affect both. She couldn’t call the other bees. It would take too long, and she couldn’t have them travel that far.

She couldn’t do anything. Useless. He had to protect her too. More than useless. Deadweight.
No. She couldn’t abandon him. They were together. In everything.

The scent leaking out of her changed subtly as it increased. Harsher, as if ginger was being mixed in with it. It was a spicy scent that Trisha had accidentally hit Casey with the night of his commencement ceremony. But this time she was using it on purpose, like she’d done during the Stygian Snake. Pushing it to the point it would wash through Casey’s emotional field. Being outside, the smell dissipated before they reached the surfer.

Fight pheromones. But this time it was carefully controlled. Enough to bolster his confidence, remove any fear he might feel, and pump up his adrenaline without making him mindlessly aggressive.
“I’m not leaving you.”

Casey felt a strangely familiar hot and spicy warmth rushing through his blood. If nothing else, he felt himself sizing up this Adept in front of him. His hand had long ago slipped into its glove to begin channeling the most glaringly pale White Lux he could muster. Every single inch of the body had already been examined, and there were a few details he could glean.

The board was his Channeler, with a pure Red signature burned deeply into its pores. He was already channeling something- some kind of long charge spell. Probably a gathering spell of some kind for a wave.
He itched over it. Absolutely chaffed, straining at the bit to not move before he’d processed everything. It was too slow. Interrupted entirely by Trisha’s declaration, Casey could only snap to.

She was staying. She was very strongly in the camp of remain… Okay. Fine. No time to argue. But, she’d fought the other day! What if-
The wave of spice came again, rushing across his body into a flare of heat that rolled out of his throat. As his hand passed down from his jacket pocket to his jeans pocket, Casey cast three spells in rapid succession. A standard array he was used to preparing for many years, allowing the clothing to take on strengthening properties. Like a second skin, it all hugged him close now, cradling his limbs and hoisting them with the strength of his magic.

The hand with the glove was the same that grabbed the knife from his back pocket. In that instant, he was thinking about the moment he developed this next little John- A moment requiring immense courage, in which that knife was so much more like a lifeline than a mere tool. And all at once, that knife was a sword whose length alone stuffed itself into the dirt like a statue. The blade was long, comparably thin compared to other portrayals of these massive swords that Trisha may’ve seen, and seemed to have some kind of very intricate design carved into it.

Rending the blade from the ground, Casey swapped its hand and swept it up onto his shoulder before reaching backward with the now free hand of his Channeler. Trisha would be able to feel her clothes become somewhat rigid, holding her tightly in that same way. Any weight she had was gone now, and it felt like all movement was being done at her behest, rather than under her own power.

”Then be safe, Goddammit… I don’t want you hurt!” he growled backward, taking a stance in which his body began to tuck inward as if preparing a charge.

”Broooo, they said the girl wasn’t with you people… Sister Von Mettis, like, lied to me! I’m like, totally gonna hurt her, Bro! She goes first!”

And then the spell dropped. Casey wasn’t sure at first what the burst of Red Lux did, until the first icicle hit the ground next to him and exploded into a million pieces. The strike he’d charged wound up instantaneously redirecting upward into the sky, blowing a clear line into the thousand hanging spears that the assailant had formed above them. It was enough to avoid the worst of it, and Casey reached back to grab Trisha again, making sure she didn’t get caught where he hadn’t cleared.

But looking back, the goon was gone.

”Shit! Trisha… We should get inland… No! Let’s, let’s just try and get to the room! It’s a concrete fuckin’ bunker!” he urged her forward, crossing his sword across her front like a thin barrier between the outside and danger.

Trisha nodded, not needing to be told twice. Not when it was we. She grabbed hold of his arm with one hand as she moved forward, letting him lead from behind as much as possible. To not run into the sword, or cause more chaos. But it was easy with her clothes enchanted. She barely had to think about movement.

Her pheromones continued to pump into the air around them, measured perfectly to never push either of them over the edge to rage. A light wind blew them towards her- but that was beneficial. Panic reducing, adrenaline pumping through her veins properly.

“I can look out,” she said, the major burden of her body’s movement taken away. Fourteen bees flew out from under her jacket, splitting into groups just as they had earlier. High in the air, unnoticeable to a Red Adept- hopefully. Her eyes glazed over slightly as she both commanded them, and sensed where they were. She had the person in mind. She could… tell them the slight scent they were looking for.

It was all coming back naturally. What she did ten years ago. What she hadn’t had to do since, forgetting the use. She was connected to each bee, almost sensing what they did. And the moment any of them saw something? She could jolt Casey with a light, controlled blast of flight pheromones.

While it was true that nobody was really looking for the bees, it wasn’t the best weather for them either. Cold, thick air to fly through, and frost building meant any heat would turn it into moisture on their wings. Overall terrible conditions to fly in, but at least they weren’t being targeted… Not like the two of them were. Icicles formed in sweeping arcs that spattered across the ground in huge salty chunks.

To get the salt water cold enough to freeze was impressive, but the Siblings of Moirah weren’t the brightest cult in the book when it came to research. Sending a pure Red user like this, someone with a deep control of water in its various forms? It spoke to him that they didn’t even know basic things about his own organization. To not know that one of his main officers was roughly the same kind of Adept just spoke ignorance to him. Or lack of respect, maybe.

But the bee watchladies were paying off regardless of the assault. They were able to get a wide enough scope of the situation to see what was happening. How the Adept was controlling the mist in a big sheet to obscure his vision, turning it into hail and eventually massive chunks of ice that would rain down on them. The closer they got down the hill toward their room near the beach, the faster and harder the pace became.
Relentless ice; at least protected by the enchanted clothing it didn’t hurt so bad. There was a time Leon had used a similar spell, and the sensation would be just a little more familiar to Trisha.

A certain hallucination long ago. The two of them, and a few other members of Sycamore all drawn into the same illusion. They had to pull out all the stops, and when people started getting tired, Leon told their very clothing to stand up and keep moving. The flying serpents couldn’t penetrate her denim jacket, and now these icicles seemed to bounce off where Casey’s blade didn’t smash them back into mist.
He was more than deft in its usage, it seemed. Clearly, guns weren’t his only choice when it came to fighting. Despite its length and probable heft, he seemed to flick it with ease in order to strike out where it was most needed.

The bees were struggling with the weather. The longer Trisha had them out the worst it got. She could sense that they were flagging… She didn’t want them to be hurt. But they needed the eyes. The sharp jolt of pheromones she gave Casey each time to warn him something was coming, and short explanations of what was happening.

Maybe he could sense it all himself. But she liked to think she was helping. And had to keep helping. Her girls were strong enough to get through this. They’d been through worse with her. Like when her clothes were last enchanted like this…
One of Trisha’s arms was above her head to protect it from the icicles. She took a deep breath in, mist coming out her lips as she exhaled. Her eyes glazed over a bit more, hints of amber in their depths, and her pheromonal reactions became instinctive.

She didn’t quite see what was in front of her. She didn’t need to with the clothes and Casey. Instead, she fully connected with the bees. Sensing all the pheromones in the air… forging stronger ones through the mist that tried to dampen the signals. Through the connection she pumped more into them. Her own magic, the magic the Queen had given her, bolstered the bees in a way she’d only done when her life was at risk.
Like it was right now. So they could keep going. And she could practically sense through them as she pushed herself and her bees.

“I think… I can see him…” she whispered, words strained as if she was having to speak two languages at once.

Casey had been splitting and ducking, chopping and sometimes having to pick her up to move just a little faster than they were on foot. He was good with it; he’d carried men twice her size unfathomable distances. It didn’t bother him. In fact, this was still far better. Two brains working in tandem instead of one trying to do everything at once. Maybe if he’d been there from the start, Layla wouldn’t have had such an easy time. Well, obviously, but not so much.

If Trisha was working recon like this, it took strain off of him. Enough so that he could focus on things like fending off the attack. If she could see, then she could be both their eyes. Senses where Casey couldn’t place his own…
White Lux would’ve solved the problem, but in moments like this he had such a hard time mustering nostalgia… It was mostly battlefield memories, and those were linked to a dozen spells that had little application here. No grenades in hand, no firearm.

He did, but now he was kicking himself. Having a bad feeling before they got into the shops, it’d completely faded away by the time he left. He’d gotten complacent again.

”Show me where he’s gonna be, Baby! It’s gotta be on the fly!” he spoke with heavy breaths, but low enough that it was almost totally within Trisha’s own little world. His voice wasn’t scared either. It was confident. Like he trusted her entirely.
”Where’s he at!?”

Casey’s arms swung backward, preparing to hurl the blade through the air toward a moving target. It was all or nothing.

Where was he going to be? Trisha's head turned slightly, towards Casey - but also the bees with visual on him. Moving quickly… she had to predict it. The bees could only see. Her head twisted again, as if trying to follow him. She couldn't, she didn't know- she had to. Follow the trajectory, quickly…
“T- Your ten o'clock!"

She didn’t have enough wherewithal to tell him the trajectory. He couldn’t ask. Couldn’t expect it either. It was fine… Ten o’clock. With every fibre of his being, Casey spun them both at once. The long tip of the blade nicked the sandy beach, kicking up a rock and blasting it into small pebbles on release. It was whistling through the air now, a very slow rotation causing the blade to spiral just a few rotations in the time it took to… Miss.

He’d guessed the right direction that the bastard was surfing in from, but misjudged the speed. Now the blade was on a course who knows where, and they were really defenseless now.

”Shit, Trisha! Come he-”
Casey’s arms were already wrapping tight around Trisha, folding over her to block the next incoming volley that he knew his sword wouldn’t be able to destroy. They could only get to the room now… Only pray.

It missed, fuck it missed, this was it-
At that moment, Trisha’s panic turned to a strange calmness. Magic washed over her. Familiar, but strange… her own, but not magic she’d tapped into before. Her connection with the bees only strengthened. They were still themselves, but for a moment they extended her. And her magic flowed through the invisible threads that linked them to her.
.
Casey would feel her go slightly limp in his arms, honey coloured flecks increasing and glowing in her eyes. Magic pulsated out of her for just a moment. It supercharged the bees. Faster, stronger wings, harder fuzz, and sharper stingers. Even as the magic radiating from her waned, her strong connection with them remained.
It wasn’t pheromonal anymore. There was no delay from the distance. It was like she was speaking right into their mind. As if they were one.

Twenty bees moved with speeds they shouldn’t be able to attain. They merged into a tight line, shooting off after the sword flying into the unknown. This line swerved, caught the steel blade on strengthened little bodies. Together they pushed. One at the end used its stinger to flick it, more accurately directing it exactly where Trisha wanted it to go.

They deflected it with their own bodies, right towards the surfer. It was perfectly deflected and sent back in the right direction with all that power Casey had thrown it with.

As the sword was reflected back, shooting towards their enemy, Trisha let out a soft gasp. Her brain jolted with pain once, twice… six times. Six bees that died from catching the sharp edge out of necessity to turn it. But they’d done it.

Casey couldn’t see the bees do what they did, but he heard a sharp crack and whistle as he watched the blade turn course midair. It was a moment of panic for him, as his primary assumption was an ice wall deflecting his own sword back to kill him. It wouldn't have, but nothing really stopped that moment of stomach dropping panic.

He felt Trisha tense up though, hearing her strain and the little yelp that accompanied dead bees. It was enough to tell him that she had something to do with it, and he readied himself to snag it back out of the air. But the moment didn’t come. There was a chunky, wet “thock” noise that echoed across the beach, washing itself away with the tide in an instant.
Confused, unsure of what had actually happened, Casey did the only thing he could think of.

A blast of White Lux swept across the beach, echoing back to him the sentiment he most wanted. The opportunity to stop. To pay attention for more than two seconds. Because what he saw in that icy fog, about thirty feet off and pinned to the beach with legs squirming, was the Adept. Casey wasn't sure what was keeping him alive, but he assumed moisture control extended to blood in some fashion. It wasn't pooling into a crimson wash like he thought it should.

Standing still now, Casey still held Trisha in his arms. Empowered eyes stared through the fog into the pained face of their would-be assassin with a mixture of shock and anger keeping it plastered there. The board, his channeler, had been knocked some thirty feet more into the sea, it's safety line snapped in twain from the force or an accidental cut. He was struggling to Wildcast what he could, and ice was slowly building around the sword and his hands. A desperate attempt to rip the blade out.

Casey's arms didn't move, besides a gentle up and down manner to comfort Trisha. But his legs did. Enough that he was in danger of pulling away. He did, even, and only then did he speak.

”Stay here… Or go inside. I'll be right there… You got him, Trisha, we're okay. You're okay.”

He spun, keeping his front facing her until he disappeared into the mist. There was an audible gasp and a company of other wet gasping noises. Then another scream. It wasn't Casey's… When he returned from the fog, the blade was gone, and his grey jeans were spattered with blood across their front. He didn't wait to embrace her again.

”My God… Trisha… Are you okay baby?” concern dozed from his voice.

Trisha didn’t reply immediately. She was still in that strange state, her eyes half glazed as she saw as much through the bees as she did her own vision. There had been an emptiness in the short time he was gone that had her stuck there. But as he returned, it was barely a thought that she wanted the bees to come too before they were buzzing back. Fourteen little bee soldiers used the remnants of their strength to fly over to her before the ocean winds blew them away.

The fizzling magic only dissipated when each bee landed on her head, crawling down into her hair with tiny shivering bodies. The honey-amber flecks in her eyes disappeared as they cleared. She tilted her head back, hands coming up to grasp Casey’s jacket.
“I- I think so.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, because she didn’t know how she felt. In shock. Definitely in shock. Her breathing quickened as her pheromones reduced to their normal level and her adrenaline lowered.

“I don’t know what I did. I-I’ve never…” She struggled to talk through little gasps, trying to fill her lungs with air. She wasn’t exactly panicking, it was more… like she was suddenly aware of her entire body. She’d been out of it, and now was back in.
“He’s really-?” As if she hadn’t heard the scream, and couldn’t see the blood. She still had to ask.

”Whatever you just did… Dead accurate. Split his lower spine: He was mostly paralyzed already. I'm sorry…”

He was. Genuinely sorry and regretful of what had happened. It wasn't fair to her that there would be days like this. Days where his life would be on the line because of some random secondary group. It was childlike. The back and forth between these different outside Covens was a business of war that he'd inherited. Fun, maybe… A reason to always be ready, and to lack complacency at all times.

But putting Trisha through this? More violence in her life? Did it need to happen? He went about examining her for a long moment, checking her clothes for any signs of penetration before holding her tightly again.
In all fairness, he knew she wasn't a wallflower. But time stripped all compunction for combat. Enough time away, and no matter how much the body remembers, the mind may protest no matter what.

But his arms were around her. She was breathing and moving. Speaking.
”That… That wasn't something I was expecting to happen. You did an amazing job, Babe… God, I'm so fucking proud of you, holy shi-”

His voice was drowned out by the shuffling of jackets being pressed together as he picked her up gently. Tenderly. Like he'd protect her from anything else coming their way.
”-ust incredible. You must have impressed the Queen or something, I just don't know what else we could've done. It would've gotten way too sticky if we'd been trapped in the room…”

Trisha nodded as she curled her head in against his neck, face slightly red. That must’ve been it. Maybe the Queen woke up and used her own magic through Trisha to save them. It had happened before, just rarely…

There was a light, melodic laugh in her mind.
You didn’t need me. You’re growing more attuned to the magic I already gave you.
Trisha didn’t respond, but she felt confused. It hadn’t felt like it was her. She definitely didn’t feel like she could do it again.
We’ll talk about it later. Try to enjoy your night.

“It was the bees as much as me. I used them to see during the Stygian Snake, it came back naturally… But not that. I think I boosted them, somehow? So they could turn the sword. I don’t know. The Queen-” her voice got a bit quieter, but it wasn’t a problem with her lips so close to Casey’s ear.
“She said it was me. But I don’t know how.”

In the last ten years she’d forgotten what she could do. It was never the flashiest or strongest Abstraction, but she’d been useful. She’d just forgotten that. There’d been no need to use anything beyond talking to the bees and the occasional pheromone blast… she hadn’t even though she could do more with it. But she clearly could. She wanted to learn more about that- so that she could stand beside Casey like this.
“I’m just glad you're safe.”

”I feel exactly the same, Trisha…” Casey said quietly as he shuffled them both ahead.

Thankfully, he’d managed to stuff the other bags into the waiting maw of his enchanted pocket; having to retrace their steps and collect anything lost would’ve been a nightmare. He hated revisiting old battles, as recalling failure gave him serious anxiety that he could do little to prevent. Mistakes like throwing his only means of defence away on a called shot. He’d purposefully avoided a concealed carry for the trip, not wanting to feel like he was some kind of gang member having to stay strapped at all times. But this? Really didn’t make him feel any better about it.

Trisha would be able to feel Casey’s hand shuffling into his jacket, then pulling out something. A phone. The lights of it became bright in front of them as he kept her held up from underneath with one arm.
”Beans? There’s a harvest on the beach. Misty Island, by the resort. - - - Yeah. It’ll need a report; pick what you can, and bring it into Halie. - - - Yep. Thanks.”

Casey’s voice didn’t sound thrilled. Much to the contrary, he was potentially pissed off? Or at least tired from the way his voice sounded. Truthfully, he was just reeling. Of all the nights for the Siblings of Moirah to make a move, it had to be tonight? But his blood was still up; even as the pheromones were slowly washing away, there was a lingering feeling.
The lingering feeling. Of being alive. Was he selfish for that? For revelling quietly in spite of the woman he loved being put in grave danger. Or… Maybe it’d work out just as well in her favor?

Casey felt his hands gripping tightly to Trisha, like she was the doll that would be stolen. Even as they approached the door, he didn’t want to let go. But the key was in his pocket, and at an angle he couldn’t reach while holding her. So he let Trisha go, and felt her slide from his hands but never stop clinging to him. His hand reached for the key, but his head and chest swept down. His lips pressed against hers with force.

Suddenly, they were kissing. And it wasn’t exactly gentle either. Not rough like an animal, but like a person who knew all too well that near death experiences deserved near life rewards. Every fibre of his being was screaming the same thing… Indulge.

Trisha was a bit surprised at first, resulting in her not immediately responding. But she quickly got caught up in it, head tilting back and to the side to let her deepen it further. Her hands clenched tightly in his coat. She didn’t have the same lingering feeling, but his lips against hers washed away residual panic and burgeoning concerns. Concerns that they’d have to go back, and then he’d have to work and wouldn’t be there with her-

But there was no way, when he was kissing her like this. She pressed against him like she couldn’t stand having a single inch apart. The closeness and intensity brought her comfort. He was there, they were together, they were still alive…

She pulled just her face back slightly, hands flattening on his chest as if holding him back.
“At least… wait until… we’re inside?” she breathed out, looking at him with half closed eyes. Swirling with want and affection and love all at once.

There was a moment where it looked like he was going to ignore her. Where his hands just kept moving as if he couldn’t hear anything and the limbs had their own minds. But just as his hands were getting to a place they probably shouldn’t have been in the middle of that cold night, they passed. One had the key, and slid it into the slot to turn the knob. The other found her hand and took it. He was blushing.

”I’m sorry… There’s only so much time.”
Time… The fleeting sensations. The typically averse barriers were all gone in favor of fear and excitement. The imbalance of chemicals was sated by the extreme act, and the taking of life that presented itself as an enemy. There was such a difference between something like that, and the other night. What he’d done for work could never compare to the rise he felt from fending off some random bullshit.

Except… She’d been there. Not just, but participated. Helped. Again, she’d been everything he needed her to be and more. Casey tried to grip onto that feeling and hold it there, keeping it and maintaining himself in mind and body as they pushed through the door. He turned his back on her to lock it, but didn’t stop there. For a moment, he sat and Channeled a few spells, some of which were rather powerful wards to prevent further magical intrusion for the time being. It was long enough to get lost.

Long enough to accidentally open up one of the enchanted pockets past the point of retention. The condition which resolved the spell, and sent stuffed animals flying about the room in a stream. Casey actually screamed aloud, having managed to forget in the haze of maintaining other feelings and sensations.

Trisha was waiting close enough, practically touching as she hovered behind him, that she was caught in the explosion of stuffed animals as Casey’s scream rang in her ears. She jumped, sending the bees scattering, and her arms slammed into her side. A large, orange bee flew out of her own pocket to join the plushie party.

“Whhhyyyy?!” She practically wailed as she got a sinking feeling that this was going to completely ruin the mood. It was a mood she could easily get herself back into… but as for Casey, she wasn’t so sure.
“This isn’t a stuffed toy safe time…” she mumbled, pouting a little bit.

Though the moment was perhaps ruined, after she’d gotten over her shock over being attacked by a myriad of plushies, she moved back towards Casey. Her arms wrapped around him. Regardless, she just wanted to be close to him. She really couldn’t stand the distance right now. Not after what had happened, and even the moment he’d turned away- which she knew was to shut the door. But it didn’t stop the bubbling anxiety now things were cooling down a bit.
“That’s not what I meant by waiting until we’re inside,” she still managed to joke.

Casey was shaking, but after a moment it became clear that it was just laughter. He was giggling as he held onto her, the adrenaline washing through his system.
”Y’know as a teenager I always used to wonder if I’d be able to hold it in the first time… I guess we got our answer!”

His head tucked downward to loom over hers. His forehead laid atop her scalp, rubbing into the hair and smelling her. That scent wasn’t there anymore. The spicy something. He thought maybe if she did it again, there’d be a chance of recovery. But he didn’t want to ask… Felt it would be embarrassing. Like he couldn’t-

Taking a deep breath, one arm reached up and pulled her to the side. Releasing the other pocket sent bags of candles across the room. Thankfully, his aim was as true as ever, and the glass filled bags all knocked into the comfy pillows and bedspread. He knew he heard a couple of cracks, especially when the gun case flew out last and mashed into the top of the pile.
The whole reason he hadn’t stuck delicates in the pocket… The whole reason they’d saved the shopping for last. He could only shake his head at the foiling of a good plan.

A man was dead outside, and he was worried about his candles.

It took a certain part of him, that war. A few parts. Enough that he’d known to miss them in the first place. But maybe he could reclaim them. With some help, maybe they weren’t all lost forever. Being nervous about asking for help… He’d felt the same just a little while ago, and look at what’d happened. She’d pulled through. Totally unprompted, and completely selflessly. Almost heroic.

It was sexy.

And then after another breath, he felt it coming back. A grin formed across his face.
”Y’know… You hit me with that stuff again. Would you uh… Think less of me if I said I liked it?” he tried to ask very casually, hands slowly moving to pull her jacket off her completely.

“Hmm?” Trisha was a bit confused at first by what he meant by ‘that stuff.’ But she felt the mood shift back, and she liked that. Her arms moved up to make it easier for him to take her jacket off, stepping forward once she was free so that she was right in front of him. Her own hands moved to do the same for him, though it was a bit more difficult with the height difference.

Stuff she hit him with… Oh. The pheromones? Her fight pheromones? That must be what he meant, because they were also the only ones she’d properly hit him with before. Then it’d been an uncontrollable accident. Today had been a lot more calculated. She was more than practiced with these ones to use them in a way that was beneficial rather than pushing people into aggression.

This just wasn’t a use she’d ever thought about. It made sense… She was smart enough to see a pattern. The times Casey reacted more: after dueling Furio ‘to the death’ and now. It wasn’t ‘typical’ but… she really didn’t care about that. Didn’t make her think any differently about Casey. He found her attractive. He’d said so. If it was just the thrill of a battle, he wouldn’t still be…

“My alarm pheromones, you mean? Why would I think any less of you?” She smiled teasingly, hands moving up to cup his face. She urged his head down towards hers.
“They’re part of my magic. Part of me. So… No, I don’t. You just like another part of me. Do you… want me to use them again?”

He felt a little strange. Like it was all too good to be true. He felt himself welling with heat, even as his own jacket slipped off and hit the ground. The previously half-frozen gore on his clothes was starting to really thaw now, however. He felt it against him, and his hands began to move furiously in the removal of it all until he was down to untainted layers. Boxers and his tank top. His dog tags dangled from his neck, and in one hand he was still gripping his Channeler.

It took one spell for the top blanket to softly and safely drag itself and its contents off the bed, then the ratty old glove joined the rest of the clothing as it started to pile on the floor. Divested of the reminders of death, he only had her now. Truly. No other distractions, and it was more than easy to tell he didn’t need the help.

Because she would. If he asked. Only if he asked. But she wouldn’t even hesitate, and he felt that in the heat of the moment.
”Maybe later… Maybe someday. But maybe there’s a secret to all this…”

His hand brushed up under her chin, face falling to begin kissing her once more.

---

“You’re definitely carrying me everywhere tomorrow,” Trisha grumbled playfully a good while longer.

Of course, she didn’t actually feel upset by how heavy her body felt. Like all the energy had been sapped out of it… It had, really. Her physical stamina just wasn’t enough to keep up. Even just shuffling herself more onto Casey to cuddle as closely as they could felt like a lot of effort.

But she felt incredibly content. Blissfully happy. While she’d told Casey she didn’t need a super sexual relationship and had meant it, that kind of intimacy just… felt like yet another connection forged. Bringing them even closer together. Everything about it had been good.

Apart from the length of time, maybe… and her mind hadn’t quite gotten the exhaustion memo. It was the opposite. Even though she was physically drained, her mind was wide awake. Energised, but relaxed at the same time. It was nice.
“It’s different with someone you love,” she mumbled, hiding her face against him in embarrassment the moment the words came out.
“Well not like… mmm… forget I said anything.”

It was dark out now. Well, more dark than it had been. The moon had probably crested over the coast, and the sun was blocked out by the hills in the east for at least another hour. They weren’t making it home on time, and Casey knew that much. It was fine. For the first time in a long time, he felt more than relaxed. Relieved. All that time, and she was right. With someone you love, he imagined it wouldn’t be so bad. Though, that was an odd thing to say.

”Something need adjusting?” he asked quietly.

Hands still played with her hair, feeling skin on skin. She’d seen every single scar now. Every little hole where there used to be flesh. Cratermarks, valleys and rivulets from healed burns and scrapes. The endless tattoos that cluttered up his back and chest, done over years of having nothing better to do. He looked down at her with deep blue eyes waiting for a response.

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that.” Her response came almost immediately, her head jolting up to look at him. She didn’t want him thinking it was something bad. It wasn’t. Hadn’t been. Quite the opposite.

“It’s…” Trisha trailed off, looking away. Her finger gently traced a tattoo on his chest and her eyes followed it. She was comfortable and safe enough that she just found the words tumbling out. More than that, she kind of wanted to talk about it. It was an open vulnerability after such an intimate moment.
“More intimate, somehow. It was more emotional, I think, and that made it better. Like… mind and body connected, or something?”

She forced herself to look at him again. Her eyes were a dark brown in the dim light, clear and genuine. She’d been a bit worried, though she’d never tell him that. It wouldn’t ruin things, but there had been all those what ifs in her head. The anxieties that, for once, didn’t come to fruition.
“I shouldn’t really talk about past times right now, sorry, but… a lot of the time it was just physical. They didn’t always care, because it was more about their own satisfaction. I didn’t mind because I enjoyed it. I thought I liked it but… I don’t think… that I did…”

It’d been much more of a roller coaster for him. As the first real frame of reference, he was more shocked about the involvement of it than anything else. He liked it… But would it be so long every time? Would he worry about whether or not he was hurting her? After she told him to stop asking, he did, but it hadn’t left his mind. Now she was saying it felt intimate? What’d that really feel like in comparison to… Not?

He knew part of it was the knife wound he’d taken near the groin. Nerve damage down the left inner leg. With such little predilection to explore, he’d never realized that it had actually affected anything else. So, a great deal of time and attention was being given to finding any spot that didn’t feel like he was just doing nothing. This wasn’t Trisha’s fault, and amazingly he’d managed to remain stalwart the entire time.

”What… Makes it more intimate? Like… I…”
He was embarrassed. Embarrassed to say what he was thinking for fear that she’d feel like he didn’t actually care. He didn’t want that, obviously. But she was sharing, so…

”Well, I just feel… Like I spent a lot of that time pretty focused on my own satisfaction. Uh, the… Changing? Like, I know I wasn’t really doing anything too consistently, but it’s only because I couldn’t really find… A spot.”

He took her hand and gently brought it down until it rested on the scar that remained from the blade.
”That wound. I got it in Africa. It’s all pretty numb, I suffered some nerve damage. Never had it fixed. Never knew it was going to do anything to make my life harder. I guess I should now, huh?”

What the fuck was he saying? He still didn’t know exactly… Everything was a bit of a blur. But she hadn’t ran away, so… She said it was better.
”Shit, but… What you were saying. That it was more intimate… How? Sorry… I’m babbling…” he simpered.

“It’s okay,” Trisha shook her head, though her brow furrowed a bit. She wasn’t even sure how to answer… and she couldn’t really just move on from the nerve damage. Struggling to find a spot. She’d noticed the changing, but hadn’t realised. So that was why it had been so long…

But no, she’d come back to that. The intimacy. How did she explain? She’d only just started to think about it herself. And it was more of a feeling than something explicable. It just was. She’d felt safe and loved even if he felt like he was focusing on himself.
“Uhm, well… the talking and the touching. The tender kisses too. You listened to me, and you complimented me. You touched me like… I was someone to be cherished, I guess? I don’t know how to describe it but… It’s not just about the act. That’s the purely physical bit, in a way… though that was good too. Most guys can’t… last long enough…”

She wasn’t sure if she was explaining well enough. It was difficult to explain to someone who didn’t have the experience of something else- and she didn’t want him to either. She frowned a little bit, concern flitting across her eyes.
“If you didn’t really feel anything, does that mean you didn’t enjoy it?”

Casey’s face turned into a slight frown. Not of angst or sorrow, but consideration.
”Uhhh… Well, lets see.-”

He rolled slightly, turning his head to look up at the clock. He’d taken a mental note of when they started, and the time it was now was considerable.
”-I think lasting that long means I enjoyed it.”

He wasn’t going to tell her it’d been something like five hours. She didn’t need specifics. He’d heard what she said ultimately, and understood from that what she meant. How he’d done exactly what he assumed he should’ve done. About being tender, and being sure to remain aware and conscious. It helped tremendously that he was fit for duty still, obviously; that he had the stamina and cardio to make it long past a normal person…
But just like everything else, Casey had nothing to go off of based on that. No other frame of reference. Just things he’d watched, and things he’d been told.

”But I really did. I… I like you. How into it you are. I feel like that kind of intimacy is worth cherishing, so I’m glad that came through.” he offered calmly, taking a moment more to think about what that really meant to her.

”And I absolutely felt things… Just, didn’t want you thinking it’s all dead down there. It’s just fleeting. Like an itch that you want to scratch, but it’s too deep below the surface of your skin to get to.”

Trisha let out a soft sigh of relief. Her hand gently traced the scar in question before moving back up to rest on his chest. The reactionary anxiety, so quick to appear, died back down. If he hadn't enjoyed it… there wouldn't be much point, would there? She wasn't the kind of person who wanted to do it just for herself… It could just lead to resentment then. But he said he enjoyed it and felt things, just not as much.

“I… understand what you mean, I think. I'm glad- not that it's like that, but that there's not nothing, and you did enjoy it. If you didn't… I wouldn't be upset, well maybe a little, but it'd be really one sided then." It all came out as a bit of a less calm ramble than she'd hoped, her lips pressing together into a thin line for a moment. Did she really need to say that? Let the already calmed anxieties out? And she was experienced enough that she shouldn't really worry about it like that, or at least should be able to be a bit calm about it. But did that matter? It was… him. She could be herself with him, without having to worry too much about protective layers or holding it together.

“We can figure it out together. What works for you, and me. Or you can try get it fixed, but… that's up to you." She meant it, looking up at him with a warm, honest gaze as her lips curved into a soft smile. She wouldn't push him into something like that. Not when she assumed it would require magic, and she wasn't a fan of magical intrusion herself. They could make it work together without it.

“Buuttt... I wasn't joking about needing carried around tomorrow. That was really long. E-Enjoyable, I… well y’know… a lot…" And why was she getting embarrassed now? Maybe because she didn't exactly talk about her own pleasure often… not specifically.
“But I can barely move now… I definitely can't do that frequently… which I don't mind, just. Maybe we can figure out how to make it a bit shorter too? If we find what works."

Quick to try and remedy the situation in Trisha's mind. He didn't want her to be reluctant to seek it out for herself if that was something she needed in the relationship.

”Well I don't have to… Y'know. Plus, at the end I think I found a spot. It's a lot less about me, more about you. That last position, maybe… Something clicked. We'd have to try again.”

He didn't turn his face or smile. He didn't want it to seem like a joke, because it wasn't, but he also didn't want her worried about mentally preparing for it. He wasn't even sure he could muster the sensation to go again right now anyway.
The afterglow made her gorgeous. Not sexy, though she couldn't stop being that. It was satisfaction at that point. Lust moved to the back burner, and left him basking in her more muted qualities.

The lines on her face, subtly scrunched here or there in the forehead and the bridge of her nose. A lifetime of having a consistent sour puss face.

”I just don’t want you afraid to ask. I'd rather do it myself and not finish than imagine giving you any reason to seek it out from someone else. You say when you're satisfied, and I'll be done too. For you, because I love you.”

“I’d never seek it out from someone else.” Trisha immediately latched onto that point, speaking with enough conviction her voice got louder than the muted, slightly hoarse way she’d been talking before. She didn’t want him worrying about something that wasn’t going to happen. She never had and never would.
“I wouldn’t.”

She pressed her face into his chest for a moment. Even talking about that, her whole body was still relaxed. She was. There was still that warm, content glow over everything. Like she was safe to be who she was, and just let every thought slip out. The minor sentences within a bigger, loving phrase that would normally have her properly snapping… didn’t. Even though there was still a bit of anxiety, she was still so… happy…

“It’s not actually that… well, it’s really nice you’d do it just for me, but…” Her voice got quieter and quieter, until it was barely a whisper. Like she was worried it would somehow get past the little world of the two of them, or wasn’t even sure if she wanted him to hear.
“I-It was always to… start a relationship. And to keep one. I enjoy it and I want to do it, but it’s not like… it’s the most important thing to me. Something I want with you. And I feel even closer now, but just because we have doesn’t mean I’m going to want it every day because… We don’t need to to hug like this. It’s the closeness.”

He'd always assumed that once it started, every day became a must. Growing up in a sex cult is usually a good way to misconstrue the action as it came. In the military, there were few people older than their mid twenties. Thirty year old middle management wasn't much different either. If the topic wasn't who you wanted to fuck, it was reminiscing about who you had fucked. His life had been saturated with it, and until he'd had his innocence gunned down, he hardly ever realized.

His childhood had been spent knowing that every night between the hours of eleven and seven, his parents simply weren't available unless they rang the ominous “emergency bell”. And he'd seen the consequences for ringing it without proper cause too… Interrupting the evening’s “private mass” had to be serious.

So, to hear Trisha say that again, even after things were said and done? And just as importantly, not personally feeling like it had to be done again… He really wasn't going to be like them. Or, at least he assumed not. He would've honestly tried to predict the future, but casting a spell now would've been tasteless. He could only assume that whatever was broken in his mind shaved off whatever bits of overwhelming carnal addiction that plagued his forebearer.

So his arms wrapped around her tighter. His fingers brushed against the soft skin of her belly, holding her gently and massaging ever so slightly.

”I'm just… Happy to be loved. Happy that it's your only real expectation, I guess. Not as a lazy thing, but simple is good. They taught us how to K.I.S.S. in the Military, y'know…”

There was a joke. One she'd almost definitely get trapped in. An absurd thing to say without knowing the acronym.

Trisha curled her legs up over him, letting out a soft giggle. Because she found it funny that… for him being loved was the simple thing. For her, sex was simple. She was attractive enough that people wanted to have it with her. What happened was understood, and most people- men especially- wanted it consistently. They just started wanting it- and her- less the more time they spent with her.

There’d been exceptions before. Reyna and others… but none quite as different as Casey. He was able to make her feel comfortable enough that she didn’t need it frequently to confirm he wanted to be with her.

“They taught you… how to kiss in the military? Like… sex ed videos?” She tilted her head, looking up at him with slight confusion. Then she pouted jokingly.
“I thought I was the one who taught you how to kiss.”

Hook. Line. Sinker. Casey beamed slightly, a grin forming across his face at a low angle.

”Keep it simple stupid.”
As he said the words, one of his fingers tapped against her skin in each place that a period would go. After each word.
”They never wanted us thinking too hard in Basic. That went out the window when I started getting more responsibilities, but I still try and live by it. Straightforward. And loving you is pretty straight forward it seems like… That’s not to insult you, again. This is all positive to me. As long as you’re forthcoming, then I’ll always be able to react.”

His devious grin slowly turned back into a soft smile, and he kissed her gently before she could respond.
”And, I like kissing. Touching. This little spot-”
Under the blankets, his hand flicked into her side and brushed a spot he’d found she was ticklish in.

“H-hey!” Trisha reactively jerked away. Her movements were more sluggish than when he normally tickled her, and she let out a little playful huff mixed with breathy giggles. She couldn’t tickle him back without using energy she didn’t have, so she moved a hand down to grasp his.
“Anywhere but there… I’ve rolled around enough for the night…”

She smiled at him, eyes creasing gently in the way they did when she felt especially content. Her head tilted up to brush her nose against his.
“I like it all too… just being close to you. I just want to climb into your arms all the time…” She basically did it, it wasn’t like they’d spent much time apart. But it was where she felt happiest. With him, close to him.

“You’ve become really good at kissing too…” She smiled softly, before lightly, briefly kissing him.
“And I don’t think anyone else has found loving me straightforward so… thank you…”

Intentionally, he pulled her just a little closer. To be up and in his arms, even laying down like this. He scooped under her, pulling and turning her lower body gently so that he was practically cradling her.
”Thank you for saving our lives again… So we can go on again, and forever more.”

The Symphony: Modern Magic

---

Monday April 14th, 23:15
Coney Island

Another day, another shift from hell.

April meant the proper start to the tourist season. It was calmer than summer, sure, but there were no temps either. There weren't the college students back for the holidays or highschool students with nothing better to do. That meant they didn't have enough fucking staff for all the people. So Bea was having to fill in for all the missing shit… because God forbid the actual manager ever fucking turn up. Which meant she was still here past eleven on a Monday, ‘locking’ up and making sure everything was ready for tomorrow.

Amazing. Perfect. What a shit life. At least she could just go home and drink the rest of the night away… not.

The only bright side to this shit was the soda cans Bea snatched from the drink’s stand on her way past. Was she meant to? No. Did she care? Also no.

Especially with where she was going tonight. A mansion she was certain had been empty for years because of a letter about magic. Something that should’ve been a myth. It didn’t seem to be… as much as she kind of wished the creepy, whispering shades following her were just hallucinations. At least that could be treated. Instead, she was probably stuck with them for life.

A silver lining, perhaps, was that she didn’t have to go to the murder mansion alone. Rowan, the only person Bea might consider a friend, also had magic. And the same letter. That, or they were in a shared hallucination from a horrendous illness they got from children’s vomit.

She’d even waited on the island for Bea to finish closing down the place- something she didn’t need to do as a normal worker here. It was a manager’s job… thus, Bea’s and Bea’s alone. Fucking shithole. But the thought of someone waiting on the shitty little dock with the last boat back to the town sparked a tiny bit of warmth in her. The nicotine as she lit a cigarette and took a long drag from it also helped.

It wasn’t exactly a long walk from the tiny staff cabin to the dock. Bea spotted her magician or hallucinator in crime immediately- alone, because of course the old bastard who ran the boat was sitting in his little cabin.

Rowan sat patiently on a dock post overlooking the lake. The moon reflected dimly off the still waters. Idly, her right hand thumbed her sketch pencil rolling it up and down the side of her notebook. Up and down, up and down, while her mind worked on the prospect of the new world before them.

This was going to be the day she offered to help lock up with Bea. Frankly, Rowan felt selfish for sitting down on her ass while lock up still needed to be done. But it's not as though Bea floated the idea either and she had bigger things on her mind today. Her hand floated from the pencil and notebook and felt for the letter tucked behind it. She felt nervous when it made contact; it reconfirmed it was real and so was the meeting.

She couldn’t help but run through scenarios in her head around what they would see in there. Rowan hated surprises and disliked the notion that they were stepping into a place of unknown people with unknown intentions. Maybe trying to predict what was going to happen was a flawed and purely academic pursuit given that the possibilities of magic were just about infinite, but she couldn’t help it. It amounted to unproductive worrying.

”Yo! Catch.” Without much warning, Bea straight up lobbed a can of soda at Rowan.

Snapped out of her train of thought, a somewhat startled Rowan turned to see a can of soda coming directly at her. She went to catch it, almost did, and then fumbled around juggling it before finally getting a hold… At least it didn’t hit the ground this time. She looked down and gave a faint smile to a can of cherry cola, her favourite flavour. Maybe some surprises weren’t so bad.

“How many stalls did they have you running between today?” She asked, trying to move along from her decidedly uncool display as quickly as possible.

”Too many,” Bea groaned, not bothering to hold back the short laugh at the entertainment that was Rowan juggling a soda can. She cracked her own, just plain cola, open and stopped a short distance away. Just to finish huffing down her cigarette, out of respect- she sure didn’t want Rowan getting whatever awful smoke caused cancer she was afflicted with. ”You’d think after months people would know how to do their jobs, but nooo. Nevermind the couple that were hellbent on making every teen worker cry.”

She rolled her eyes, flicking the butt of her cigarette into the lake. It was already polluted as fuck, so who cared? Wasn’t like she’d be here to see the consequences. The living shades teeming in her own shadow whispered judgments she ignored. ”Not sure if all that mundane crap is better or worse than whatever we’re about to walk into.”

Rowan chuckled at the work complaints as she cracked open her can and took a sip. “Was it that couple that was pretty much attached at the hip? I had the pleasure myself today. All smiles ‘til you did something they slightly didn’t like. Must be fun at home, huh.” There was a lingering pause as she didn’t go on to talk about the meeting ahead of them. She didn’t want to avoid that talk with Bea; she just wanted to linger in the normalcy for a short moment more.

”Oh yeah, that’s the one,” Bea rolled her eyes. Not at Rowan, but at the thought of that couple. Like her job wasn’t hard enough. ”Glad they didn’t make you cry, I need at least one other competent non crying person on this fucking island. Everyone else does one or the other!”

“Well, I did see Elliot coming out of the toilets in rough shape. Funny, I didn’t think he was the type to get cut up about things like that.”.

Again, there was another pause. But this time Rowan thought it best not to deflect further. She grew inward as those insecurities about the night ahead came back. She stood and made her way to the boat. “It’s been on my mind since we got the letter. The meeting that is, not the couple. It would be so much easier if it was just us who got this thing, you know? But I doubt that's the case.”

”If it was just us, it’d probably be some magical asshole with a vendetta.” Bea wasn’t so positive about that being easier - then again, she wasn’t so positive about anything. She hopped onto the waiting boat before speaking again, moving round to the tiny cabin at the front and giving it a bang. ”Oy, wake up, we’re good to go.”

There was a pause as she leaned against it, and resisted pulling out another cigarette. ”It’s fucking weird, isn’t it? Whoever sent that letter is either an absolute creep, or they’ve got some shit to detect all of this… magic. Because it’s not like anyone can see mine. The little shadow bastards just bother me.”

Rowan took a seat patiently at the back of the boat while Bea woke the captain up. The rumble of the old engine kicking itself up heralded her friends return.

“If it was just some creep or a magic asshole with a grudge, then we wouldn’t go to his spooky, abandoned mansion. Easy as that.” Her mood took a turn for the better each time Bea talked about the letter's sender like a simple, explainable weirdo. “But I can’t help but feel like we will get some answers to all this there. That draws me in like you wouldn’t believe. Just can’t be sure if that's some kind of lure working against me… us.”

”Lure for what? To kill us in some kinda cult ritual?” Bea shrugged as she also sat down. Rowan was probably right that they’d get answers there… or at least, Bea trusted her friend’s gut more than her own. ”Or worse, maybe it’s to make us do some stupid, heroic magic shit. Trapping us into free fucking labour- Like I don’t already do enough of that.”

“You say all that like it isn’t a possibility.” Rowan thought on it a little more and smiled. “I hope it is some heroic mage thing. You could just give them some kind words and we walk out.” She joked.

Bea let out a short laugh at that. ”Oh yeah, the heroic kinda people won’t be able to handle me. My magic really isn’t made for that shit anyway- who wants shadowy shit?”

We’re all going to diieee! On queue, one of the shadows clawing for her attention whispered from below her.

Bea just shook her head. ”Be glad you can’t hear ‘em… but you’re right. If it’s that and we get to walk I’ll be delighted. In bed by 1am? The fucking dream. Meetings about magic in a creepy mansion are the opposite of any dreams.”

Rowan leaned back on the side of the boat, looking up to the night above with a long sigh. “But we’re going to go anyway, aren’t we?” Try as she might, the girl was a slave to her own curiosity lately. It was just a fear that needed to be faced, even if the thought made her shake a little. A fun memory returned to her in that moment, curving her lips up to a grin. She tilted her head upward slightly to look at Bea again. “You want me to bring marshmallows and a flashlight?”

Bea didn’t respond immediately, head slowly turning to hit Rowan with a deadpan stare. There was an old, fuzzy memory. What Bea remembered most, aside from the terror of nearly being killed by a ‘monster’ that was probably a massive raccoon in hindsight, was- ”You actually going to come this time? You won’t run home and cower under your bed like you did then?”

“Who knows? It’s a little different now that ghosts actually exist this time around and my bed is awful comfy.” There was a pause, she was being coy. “No, I’m not letting you go in alone.”

”Well thank fuck, someone’s gotta hold me back if the culprit is actually just a nice magic nerd.” Bea laughed slightly, shaking her head. The boat was almost at the dock on the other side now… which meant just a drive between them and their destination. She wasn’t scared, just… apprehensive. ”And to backup my story about getting into an accident if I- we- end up late for work tomorrow.”

“Of course, what are friends for if not ready alibis?”

---

Monday April 14th, 23:58
13 Mourningdove Lane

The Coney Island duo arrived at Mourningdove Lane after a few pit stops to get ready for the meeting. Under Bea’s request, they took the time to pass by each of their houses to change. They didn’t want to scream to the others that, if they wanted us, they could come to Coney Island. Plus general taste prevented them from going to a meeting of the mages looking like minimum wage.

Parked up a short distance from the house, they waited a few minutes on Rowan’s request. They watched a few shadows passing into the house but a cloud passing over the moon made it hard to make out any features. Only one frightfully tall silhouette stood out as remarkably unique. But it was hard to conclude it was the guy they thought it was. Could have just as easily been an out-of-town goliath. Who knows how far these letters stretched?

Rowan had thoughts about asking Bea to turn the car around. But a short chat later she was already convinced to step out of the car and approach the mansion.

Outside the door, she rolled the flashlight in one hand. They had foregone the marshmallows but a source of light seemed appropriate. “Ready?” Rowan asked, but didn’t reach for the door handle.

Bea hadn’t bothered with a flashlight- because she didn’t actually own one. Instead, she just had her lighter in one hand, feeling a bit ridiculous with the little flame. Their lights cast even darker shadows, and the living ones took great joy in dancing within them. They flickered across the corners of her eyes. Really… nothing inside could be worse than that, right? But as much as she didn’t admit it, now that she was here she didn’t really want to step through the door.

Not out of fear. More a feeling it would change things… and shit never changed for the better. ”I really think we should’ve brought the marshmallows. What if we get hungry while we’re sacrificed?”

“Shit, you’re right. I’ll bring them the next time we get sacrificed.” What followed was a half-hearted chuckle. They both knew that the jokes were to get their minds off the scary unknown ahead. Now that unknown was only feet away on the other side of a normal, if large, set of wooden doors.

They both looked at the door handle but neither reached for it. “You want to do it? Or should I?”

Bea looked at Rowan, then back at the door, with a frown. Did it matter? It did, a bit. Whoever went first had less chance of making it out if there was some horror beyond the door. So… ”I’ll do it. Cause I have no chance of seeing shit over your head.”

The longer they hesitated the worse it would be. So Bea took the final step, moving in front with her hand going for the handle.

Of course, the door opened itself the moment she tried. Because of course it did. Fucking magic.

”Well… fuck. If you hear a scream, run.”

Then, Bea stepped inside and Rowan followed close behind.

The Symphony: Modern Magic

Bea Lucaci

"I dunno what all these tourists see in this shithole."

_______________________________________________ Sabina “Bea” Irinel Lucaci Tiefling (Unknown) | She/Her | 22 | Romanian-American | 5’1” | 108lbs _______________________________________________ Jaded _______________________________________________ Skills & Talents "You want a ticket? No? Then fuck off." ___________________________________ [+] Carnival Ladder Climber ⫻ As assistant manager on an understaffed, shitty carnival island, Bea has developed a variety of skills. First of all, she knows she can’t depend on anyone above her. They do fuck all. Second? They sure as shit aren’t paying her enough for the amount of work she does now… but she has nothing else going on. Bea has gotten pretty good at solving problems without the actual needed help. Sure, she’ll grumble and scowl her whole way through it, but she gets shit done. Honestly, the place would be falling apart even more if it weren’t for her. She can also lead a team… of mostly teenagers who don’t know any better. If anything it’s more impressive she can get a bunch of teens to listen to her. She’s a master of nonchalant customer service. Ask for a manager on the island, and you get Bea and her resting bitch face. As much as she fucking hates it, she’s really very good at her job… which only makes things more depressing. Since she technically worked up the ladder from temp summer to permanent to assistant manager, she knows how shit runs well - and can run the various (minimal) stands they have if needed… which it often is. Daughter of a Devil ⫻ When she puts in the effort, Bea can be charismatic. She’s always had a natural way with words, being quite the smooth talker when she wants to be. While she doesn’t bother much nowadays, it’s a skill she’s never lost. Her ability to be deceptive, on the other hand, is one she still uses to get out of all kinds of annoying situations. Her mind is still sharp. She’s cunning, able to manipulate and deceive people with relative ease and little knowledge on their part. While she doesn’t tend to use this with bad intentions, it’s still manipulation at the end of the day. All of these are traits she’d had from a young age, but they seem to be pushing more to the forefront now. Gifted Kid Burnout ⫻ While Bea certainly wouldn’t consider herself gifted anymore, she once was. She’s still got the brains for studying if she puts her mind to it, and is pretty smart. This is channeled into her cunning and general wit. She’s good at math, which was her planned degree. Along with this she’s always expecting failure- softening the blow when it happens. Artfully Not Giving A Shit ⫻ Bea is adept at not giving a shit in a way that doesn’t result in people punching her. Her sarcastic comments almost seem like jokes, and she’s managed to hold down a job since she was a teenager even with an increasingly worsening attitude. It’s almost endearing. Almost.

Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "I call this look ‘dying nicotine addict.’ The purple tinge is cool, I guess." Uncaring about the world around her, Bea is someone who’s never found without her signature frown. Her expression can generally be described as dead inside or pissed off at anyone expecting her attention. But even though she doesn’t seem to care, she still puts some effort into her appearance. She’s rarely found without at least foundation, eyeshadow and lipstick in a variety of darker shades. Overall it tends to be darker, in a minimal gothic or more grunge style. Her hair, naturally brown, is dyed black and falls down to the top of her chest. Her bangs are cut to just above her eyebrows, and she consistently trims them so they remain at that length. Short and slim, her body is nicely curved. It’s kept in shape more by virtue of a job on her feet and meals on a budget than any effort on her part. Bea has tattoos all across her right arm, with about half her left arm done. She has floral tattoos across the front of her shoulders, and a few on her upper legs. She has a piercing in her right nostril, a septum piercing and a medusa piercing. Bea’s skin is pale, and she often has dark bags under her eyes. Recently she’s so sleep deprived these seem to be spreading, with her entire body starting to take on a slight purple tinge. Her once dull green eyes are becoming more vibrant, verging towards yellow, thanks to all the nicotine in her system. Her pupils are getting paler too, so she’s probably going blind from all the smoke in her eyes. She’s had simple lobe piercings for years, but she got helix piercings a few months ago. She’s pretty sure they fucked up somehow because her ears are starting to get pointier at the tips. She’s started feeling two lumps on the top of her head… They’re painful and itchy, so she’s accepted her inevitable death in a year or two. It's not like she can afford to see a doctor. Thankfully they’re hidden by her hair, but she’s started wearing a beanie more often just in case. There’s another painful lump forming at the base of her spine… so a year or two is probably too optimistic. Either way, she’s just been ignoring the obviously worrying changes in her body. Bea tends to wear various types of crop tops - favouring more tank top, bralet or corset style ones. These tend to be black or white, with the colour coming from her denim or corduroy pants. She’ll swap to shorts in the warmer weather, sometimes a dress or skirt. The colours she tends to add aren’t much- browns, denim blue, darker reds and occasional lighter blues. Her jacket of choice is a medium brown leather one that was her dads, thick enough to ward off most of the cold. On the rare days she really feels like trying she’ll dress up more, favouring a more gothic fashion with long dark dresses or skirts and more intense makeup.

_{Psychology
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"I’m not the person I used to be. I’ll never be her again. And shit’s never getting better."

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Bea wants to leave Twin Pines and go somewhere better. Where? She doesn’t know, and doesn’t care. She just wants to make enough money to leave this deadend down and go somewhere that actually has life. Maybe even get the education she missed out on. Since that seems like a pipe dream, she just wants to keep making enough money to pay the rent on her shitty apartment and fund her nicotine addiction.

There’s still hope that she can regain parts of her former self, as much as she refuses to let herself believe it.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Hard work doesn’t always pay off and the world isn’t fair. At the end of the day it doesn’t matter how much you do, you could still end up with shit all for it. It’s better just to not try at all, because the result will be the same. The only people who can drag themselves out of the mud are those who got lucky, or are rich in the first place.

SECRETS AND FEARS ⫻ That beneath her jaded, don’t give a shit exterior, Bea actually does care. She’s so fucking scared because she used to care too much. She used to take on other people’s burdens and stresses while putting pressure on herself to do well. This resulted in her burning out, and failing to get anywhere in life. Even after that she still cares, even though she suppresses it. Bea’s scared she’ll always be stuck like this, even though she pretends she’s accepted it. That she’s always going to be a failure at a dead end job in a shitty town. She keeps just how bad her mental health has gotten over the last few years a secret. The genuine cry for help is purposeful hidden under layers of cynicism and sarcasm.

Also, she keeps the whole head lumps, skin turning purple, yellowish eyes and pointed ears thing a secret. No point freaking anyone out about her inevitable death.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Bisexual with a preference for women. Bea has been in a couple of relationships, mainly with men - there’s a very small pool of woman attracted women in a small town like Twin Pines. As a result, she hasn’t been in a relationship for almost a year now. She has had flings in between this but, again, small pool to pick from.

WHAT WAS THE FIRST DAY WITH MAGIC LIKE? ⫻ Bea was at work the day magic emerged. At the exact moment, she was trying to corral a bunch of teenage workers… then half the fucking island went dark for a few minutes. After the lights came back, or whatever magical darkness it was lifted, the shadows started talking to her.

FLAWS ⫻ To be frank, Bea is depressed. She’s what could be described as ‘functionally’ depressed. She can still get out of bed when she has to, get dressed and look nice, go to work, pretend everything is o-fucking-kay. But when she’s alone and has nothing she needs to do? It’s bad. She’s crushed by hopelessness and feels like there isn’t much point to anything. Shit isn’t going to get better, after all. Past events have led to her being incredibly jaded. This often comes across in her scathing remarks or harsh dismissal of other people’s positivity. While Bea masks the genuine problems with biting wit and sarcastic jokes, it doesn’t make her a particularly easy person to be around. She just doesn’t really seem to care about anything. She’s often too blunt. While she doesn’t purposefully lash out at people, her words often hurt those around her.

Bea’s a disconcertingly different person from who she was in highschool and she hates that. It's a cycle of self loathing and resenting her circumstances that keeps her stuck where she is now. And even when the parts that remain from the better person she was seem to resurface, it never feels genuine - at least not to her. Because she truly doesn’t believe that’s who she is anymore, or who she can be.

_{Backstory
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"I learned the hard way that hard work doesn’t pay off."

Demons of the Past

Just over two thousand years ago, a young Romanian woman, Sorina Corbeanu, was one of the many persecuted during witch hunts across the country. She had no natural magic, there were no Witch Hunter detection tools picking her up, just superstitious neighbours wanting rid of a single, parentless woman who scorned all men that tried to marry her. Forced to flee the town she grew up in, Sorina grew resentful against humanity - and she sought out a pact with a dark being.

The Demon, 𝔊͎̒͜𝔯̸̶̶̩̝͋ͣ͛𝔬̨̥ͫ̊̀̓͞𝔞̵̮̮ͫ̉̈̓̽͜͠ͅ𝔷̡̬̟͗́͌ͣ̀̕͝ă̗͔ͤ̓̕͠͝, master of the Night. With his power Sorina was able to enact revenge on the very people who tried to have her killed. Her power grew and grew, and she was able to cut out a life for herself and amass a following. She didn’t seek domination: just enough power to protect herself and live well.

Her relationship with 𝔊͎̒͜𝔯̸̶̶̩̝͋ͣ͛𝔬̨̥ͫ̊̀̓͞𝔞̵̮̮ͫ̉̈̓̽͜͠ͅ𝔷̡̬̟͗́͌ͣ̀̕͝ă̗͔ͤ̓̕͠͝ changed as well. It became more than just Warlock and Patron. It wasn’t a loving relationship, neither side interested in something like that, but it was deeper than one Sorina had with anyone else. From this union her daughter, Viorela Corbeanu, was born. After her birth, 𝔊͎̒͜𝔯̸̶̶̩̝͋ͣ͛𝔬̨̥ͫ̊̀̓͞𝔞̵̮̮ͫ̉̈̓̽͜͠ͅ𝔷̡̬̟͗́͌ͣ̀̕͝ă̗͔ͤ̓̕͠͝ refused to have another. There could only be one with his blood per generation, he said. Only one with access to that power.

It wasn’t until she went through puberty that her infernal heritage was clear. Horns, tail, glowing eyes and dark purple skin. While being a Tiefling made her a target, her magic was strong. As was her son’s.

Her son was the first to ignore the warning about having multiple children. After all, it didn’t matter if only one ended up like him. So he had two children. The first transformed as he did when he hit puberty. The second succumbed to an illness and died tragedy before she could reach that age.

It wasn’t just a warning. It was a curse. Only one child could be born per generation.

As magic disappeared from the world, the demonic features got less and less with each generation. Still knowledge of their ancestry was passed down along with warning of the curse. It wasn’t until the second generation without any visible demonic features that the decision was made to keep their infernal heritage secret. It wasn’t important anymore.

So from then on, the bloodline has remained unaware of their origins. The curse has been inactive for five hundred years, but is still passed down as a superstition.

Sabina Lucaci was born to Matei Lucaci and Katherine Gray in the small town of Twin Pines. Her parents weren’t married at the time as she was an unplanned, but welcome, surprise to a couple in their mid twenties. Matei had moved to America from Romania when he became an adult to study, but ended up having to drop out and following the ‘love of his life’ to her hometown. Here he worked in the fishing industry primarily.

They weren’t well off, but Bea was raised in a loving home. Her parents married when she was a toddler and she doesn’t have many negative memories of her earliest years. But as she moved towards the double digits, her parents' relationship turned rocky. Hushed arguments became loud and heated. They argued openly over Bea- and over the second child her mom had wanted and her dad refused to have.The household fractured. Her parents divorced shortly after she turned ten.

From there she spent equal time at two much worse off homes, both sides struggling without the double income. But Bea was a confident and positive child. Bright in more ways than one, she excelled in school while being incredibly friendly. It was difficult to deal with her parent’s separating, but she did better than both thought she would.

A couple of years later, her mom remarried. Then, she had another child. And another.

Bea started to spend more time at her dad’s, preferring the quiet. The two of them were close and she loved him. He always encouraged her to do her best, and to not give up on her dreams. He didn’t want her to end up like him, forced to drop out of university for reasons outside of his control. He planned to do everything he could to support her. But money was tight, so Bea took up a temp summer job at Coney Island from when she was fourteen, before working weekends part time from when she was sixteen.

Along with excelling academically, Bea was popular in school. She was a girl that almost everyone knew, someone who was always cheerful and smiled at everyone. She was nice to everyone and seemed to get on with them too. Like a ray of absolute sunshine. But while Bea was popular and well liked, she had very few proper friends. Close ones. One of the few was Rowan- or Roro, as Bea teasingly called her. Much shyer, their friendship was a bit of an odd one, but Bea liked the quieter company. It balanced her.

It was Bea, with her confident and bright demeanour, who encouraged Rowan to go out of comfort zone and apply for university. To actually leave, just like Bea planned to. Bea worked her hardest for that goal too. She knew she had to get a scholarship to be able to afford it. But she was doing well enough that she should manage to get one that paid most of the fees at her prepared school.

Everything was going well. She was excelling, and most people liked her. It was fine that she was sacrificing sleep. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have many actual friends.

But it meant when everything came crashing down around her, there was no one to help pick her back up.

Right before final exams and her SAT, Bea’s mental health plummeted. She lost confidence in herself and struggled to even get out of bed. It was so sudden. She went from being happy and doing well, to struggling with depression that hit out of nowhere. But she still managed to push through and sit what she had to… but her grades just weren’t what they had been. She’d completely burnt herself out. She didn’t get the full scholarship at her chosen school. She didn’t even get into that school, and she didn’t get any scholarships anywhere. The one school she did get into she couldn’t afford.

Her dad reassured her that she could resit everything in a year and apply again. She just needed to rest a bit. Her mum was sympathetic too - but her attention was taken up by her two other younger children.

There was still some hope. Bea increased her hours at the carnival job, and studied on her own. All she needed was some kind of scholarship and between her working and some money from her dad, she’d be fine. She lived full time with him now, helping with bills here and there.

Then that winter, things got worse. Her dad’s boat capsized in a freak accident, and he presumably drowned. They didn’t find his body.

Now Bea had to deal with the grief of losing the person she was closest to, and face that university was just a pipe dream now. She couldn’t afford it herself. She could barely afford to keep the apartment her and her dad had lived in. While she pushed into a worse state of depression, she didn’t want to lose the place she considered home and what she had left of him.

So she went full time at the carnival. Then, eventually, she was given the promotion to assistant manager. It was a shit job with way too many responsibilities for the pay, but it wasn’t like Bea had anything else going on in her life. And it meant she could cover the costs of the tiny, shitty apartment while having enough to fund her smoking habit on the side.

Life wasn’t good. Quite frankly, it was shit. Sometimes she thought about ending it… but she never did. She couldn’t. Not when her dad wouldn’t want her to. She couldn’t do that to her mum, as much as she didn’t see her often, or to the younger siblings she wasn’t that close to. Or the few friends she had, even though she didn’t have contact after they all escaped town.

She loosely clung onto life, even though she didn’t have any hope. A shit job in a dead end town… she didn’t see any different future.

But recently, things have changed a bit. Rowan- for some godforsaken reason- came back and started working on Coney Island. Sure, Bea was her sort of boss, but there was… some small amount of comfort from an old friend’s return. It was a break from the horrible monotony. Just a little bit she found herself able to joke with someone- even if it was mostly sarcastic.

Then, there’s the magic. While it should be thrilling to have something out of the ordinary happen in her shit, boring life… Bea’s just pissed off at it. She’d rather not have constant whispers in her ear, thanks.

_{Magic
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"Can you fucking shut up for one goddamn minute?!"

MAGIC ⫻ Infernal. Bea can (unknowingly) manifest shadows from people’s fears and nightmares, and manipulate them.

MAGIC DESCRIPTION ⫻

Bea comes from a demonic bloodline that specialised in fear and nightmare magic, shadow magic, and mental curses. At their strongest her ancestors could manifest shadowy versions of great beasts from nightmares, with the power to level towns. They could command the manifested shades to act as their spies, getting comprehensive information whispered in their ear. Nightmares and fears themselves were manipulated and used for fuel, with powerful mental curses cast, such as haunting people their worst nightmares.

Right now, Bea can manifest people’s fears and recent nightmares in an area around her as shadows, and do incredibly basic manipulation of them. Manipulation wise, she can create a thin ‘whip’ of shadow that she can use to trip people or lash out at them. It’s relatively useless, able to trip if it's not noticed or cause a shallow wound on open flesh.

Bea has no control over the shadow manifestation. She has no idea that she’s the one bringing talking shadows into existence. Currently, they’re just shadows that take a vague shape of whatever they were formed from. They whisper to Bea, and she could talk to them - but she generally just tells them to go away. No one else can see these talking, moving shadows. Once they manifest they naturally flock to her. Against her will, Bea manifests the shadows from people within a forty metre radius around her. They are basically useless - she has no named spells, because she doesn’t even realise this is part of her magic and that she’s bringing them into existence.

LIMITS ⫻

Bea’s manifestation isn’t something she can actively cast or turn off at the moment, thanks to her lack of understanding and skill. This constant manifestation not only drains her energy, but leads to a near constant flow of irritating, useless shadows that whisper to her. She can manifest them in forty metres around her. People who are happier don’t tend to ‘produce’ shadows because it would require her to delve deeper into their mind, something she currently can’t do. The shadows also don’t actually do anything, nor can they interact with the world right now. Only Bea can see, hear and talk to them.

Manipulation wise, she can only make a basic whip that lashes out, trips or wraps around something once. It’s as strong as an average human in terms of ability to hold on or hurt.

WEAKNESSES ⫻ The shadows are mischievous and can be cruel, Bea would do well to learn this quickly. While she can summon them they will often go rouge on her and will seemingly take pleasure in the act of doing so. As well, when they talk to Bea there will be two devils on her shoulder trying to push her to do more heinous acts against unsuspecting people. As well, once summoned, they will resist the call to go away again. Combined with their mischievous and cruel nature, Bea could inadvertently put others in serious danger when the shades decide they want to play.

_{Other
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"Nah, Tieflings are just myths. People pretending their ancestors fucked a demon to make it cool when they’re massive cunts."

In case it wasn’t obvious, Bea has no idea she’s a tiefling. She’s in denial it’d even be possible.
Bea is the only one left in the direct bloodline of 𝔊͎̒͜𝔯̸̶̶̩̝͋ͣ͛𝔬̨̥ͫ̊̀̓͞𝔞̵̮̮ͫ̉̈̓̽͜͠ͅ𝔷̡̬̟͗́͌ͣ̀̕͝ă̗͔ͤ̓̕͠͝, but there might be some distant relatives left. Technically the ‘one child per generation’ curse wasn’t active when there wasn’t any magic to fuel it.
Bea speaks Romanian, but she’s worried about losing it now she has no one to speak it with.

Cailean Aoki

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"I always knew monsters were real!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WHAT WAS THE FIRST DAY WITH MAGIC LIKE? ⫻

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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"This sure is one way to stay grounded."

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

MAGIC DESCRIPTION ⫻

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

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

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

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

LIMITS ⫻

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

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

WEAKNESS ⫻

Using this magic is quite tiring. While they can lift heavy weights worth of earth using this, it is something that does have a physical connection to their body. Their magic is like an extension of their body, and when they use it to throw a rock, or build a wall, it will have a heightened physical toll on their body that builds with subsequent uses. To counteract this, Cailean can build muscle and train endurance to be a true earth bender.

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

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

The Symphony: Modern Magic

Bea Lucaci

"I dunno what all these tourists see in this shithole."

_______________________________________________ Sabina “Bea” Irinel Lucaci Tiefling (Unknown) | She/Her | 22 | Romanian-American | 5’1” | 108lbs _______________________________________________ Jaded _______________________________________________ Skills & Talents "You want a ticket? No? Then fuck off." ___________________________________ [+] Carnival Ladder Climber ⫻ As assistant manager on an understaffed, shitty carnival island, Bea has developed a variety of skills. First of all, she knows she can’t depend on anyone above her. They do fuck all. Second? They sure as shit aren’t paying her enough for the amount of work she does now… but she has nothing else going on. Bea has gotten pretty good at solving problems without the actual needed help. Sure, she’ll grumble and scowl her whole way through it, but she gets shit done. Honestly, the place would be falling apart even more if it weren’t for her. She can also lead a team… of mostly teenagers who don’t know any better. If anything it’s more impressive she can get a bunch of teens to listen to her. She’s a master of nonchalant customer service. Ask for a manager on the island, and you get Bea and her resting bitch face. As much as she fucking hates it, she’s really very good at her job… which only makes things more depressing. Since she technically worked up the ladder from temp summer to permanent to assistant manager, she knows how shit runs well - and can run the various (minimal) stands they have if needed… which it often is. Daughter of a Devil ⫻ When she puts in the effort, Bea can be charismatic. She’s always had a natural way with words, being quite the smooth talker when she wants to be. While she doesn’t bother much nowadays, it’s a skill she’s never lost. Her ability to be deceptive, on the other hand, is one she still uses to get out of all kinds of annoying situations. Her mind is still sharp. She’s cunning, able to manipulate and deceive people with relative ease and little knowledge on their part. While she doesn’t tend to use this with bad intentions, it’s still manipulation at the end of the day. All of these are traits she’d had from a young age, but they seem to be pushing more to the forefront now. Gifted Kid Burnout ⫻ While Bea certainly wouldn’t consider herself gifted anymore, she once was. She’s still got the brains for studying if she puts her mind to it, and is pretty smart. This is channeled into her cunning and general wit. She’s good at math, which was her planned degree. Along with this she’s always expecting failure- softening the blow when it happens. Artfully Not Giving A Shit ⫻ Bea is adept at not giving a shit in a way that doesn’t result in people punching her. Her sarcastic comments almost seem like jokes, and she’s managed to hold down a job since she was a teenager even with an increasingly worsening attitude. It’s almost endearing. Almost.

Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "I call this look ‘dying nicotine addict.’ The purple tinge is cool, I guess." Uncaring about the world around her, Bea is someone who’s never found without her signature frown. Her expression can generally be described as dead inside or pissed off at anyone expecting her attention. But even though she doesn’t seem to care, she still puts some effort into her appearance. She’s rarely found without at least foundation, eyeshadow and lipstick in a variety of darker shades. Overall it tends to be darker, in a minimal gothic or more grunge style. Her hair, naturally brown, is dyed black and falls down to the top of her chest. Her bangs are cut to just above her eyebrows, and she consistently trims them so they remain at that length. Short and slim, her body is nicely curved. It’s kept in shape more by virtue of a job on her feet and meals on a budget than any effort on her part. Bea has tattoos all across her right arm, with about half her left arm done. She has floral tattoos across the front of her shoulders, and a few on her upper legs. She has a piercing in her right nostril, a septum piercing and a medusa piercing. Bea’s skin is pale, and she often has dark bags under her eyes. Recently she’s so sleep deprived these seem to be spreading, with her entire body starting to take on a slight purple tinge. Her once dull green eyes are becoming more vibrant, verging towards yellow, thanks to all the nicotine in her system. Her pupils are getting paler too, so she’s probably going blind from all the smoke in her eyes. She’s had simple lobe piercings for years, but she got helix piercings a few months ago. She’s pretty sure they fucked up somehow because her ears are starting to get pointier at the tips. She’s started feeling two lumps on the top of her head… They’re painful and itchy, so she’s accepted her inevitable death in a year or two. It's not like she can afford to see a doctor. Thankfully they’re hidden by her hair, but she’s started wearing a beanie more often just in case. There’s another painful lump forming at the base of her spine… so a year or two is probably too optimistic. Either way, she’s just been ignoring the obviously worrying changes in her body. Bea tends to wear various types of crop tops - favouring more tank top, bralet or corset style ones. These tend to be black or white, with the colour coming from her denim or corduroy pants. She’ll swap to shorts in the warmer weather, sometimes a dress or skirt. The colours she tends to add aren’t much- browns, denim blue, darker reds and occasional lighter blues. Her jacket of choice is a medium brown leather one that was her dads, thick enough to ward off most of the cold. On the rare days she really feels like trying she’ll dress up more, favouring a more gothic fashion with long dark dresses or skirts and more intense makeup.

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"I’m not the person I used to be. I’ll never be her again. And shit’s never getting better."

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Bea wants to leave Twin Pines and go somewhere better. Where? She doesn’t know, and doesn’t care. She just wants to make enough money to leave this deadend down and go somewhere that actually has life. Maybe even get the education she missed out on. Since that seems like a pipe dream, she just wants to keep making enough money to pay the rent on her shitty apartment and fund her nicotine addiction.

There’s still hope that she can become more like her former self, as much as she refuses to let herself believe it.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Hard work doesn’t always pay off and the world isn’t fair. At the end of the day it doesn’t matter how much you do, you could still end up with shit all for it. It’s better just to not try at all, because the result will be the same. The only people who can drag themselves out of the mud are those who got lucky, or are rich in the first place.

SECRETS AND FEARS ⫻ That beneath her jaded, don’t give a shit exterior, Bea actually does care. She’s so fucking scared because she used to care too much. She used to take on other people’s burdens and stresses while putting pressure on herself to do well. This resulted in her burning out, and failing to get anywhere in life. Even after that she still cares, even though she suppresses it. Bea’s scared she’ll always be stuck like this, even though she pretends she’s accepted it. That she’s always going to be a failure at a dead end job in a shitty town. She keeps just how bad her mental health has gotten over the last few years a secret. The genuine cry for help is purposeful hidden under layers of cynicism and sarcasm.

Also, she keeps the whole head lumps, skin turning purple, yellowish eyes and pointed ears thing a secret. No point freaking anyone out about her inevitable death.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Bisexual with a preference for women. Bea has been in a couple of relationships, mainly with men - there’s a very small pool of woman attracted women in a small town like Twin Pines. As a result, she hasn’t been in a relationship for almost a year now. She has had flings in between this but, again, small pool to pick from.

WHAT WAS THE FIRST DAY WITH MAGIC LIKE? ⫻ Bea was at work the day magic emerged. At the exact moment, she was trying to corral a bunch of teenage workers… then half the fucking island went dark for a few minutes. After the lights came back, or whatever magical darkness it was lifted, the shadows started talking to her.

FLAWS ⫻ To be frank, Bea is depressed. She’s what could be described as ‘functionally’ depressed. She can still get out of bed when she has to, get dressed and look nice, go to work, pretend everything is o-fucking-kay. But when she’s alone and has nothing she needs to do? It’s bad. She’s crushed by hopelessness and feels like there isn’t much point to anything. Shit isn’t going to get better, after all. Past events have led to her being incredibly jaded. This often comes across in her scathing remarks or harsh dismissal of other people’s positivity. While Bea masks the genuine problems with biting wit and sarcastic jokes, it doesn’t make her a particularly easy person to be around. She just doesn’t really seem to care about anything. She’s often too blunt. While she doesn’t purposefully lash out at people, her words often hurt those around her.

Bea’s a disconcertingly different person from who she was in highschool and she hates that. It's a cycle of self loathing and resenting her circumstances that keeps her stuck where she is now. And even when the parts that remain from the better person she was seem to resurface, it never feels genuine - at least not to her. Because she truly doesn’t believe that’s who she is anymore, or who she can be.

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"I learned the hard way that hard work doesn’t pay off."

Demons of the Past

Just over two thousand years ago, a young Romanian woman, Sorina Corbeanu, was one of the many persecuted during witch hunts across the country. She had no natural magic, there were no Witch Hunter detection tools picking her up, just superstitious neighbours wanting rid of a single, parentless woman who scorned all men that tried to marry her. Forced to flee the town she grew up in, Sorina grew resentful against humanity - and she sought out a pact with a dark being.

The Demon, 𝔊͎̒͜𝔯̸̶̶̩̝͋ͣ͛𝔬̨̥ͫ̊̀̓͞𝔞̵̮̮ͫ̉̈̓̽͜͠ͅ𝔷̡̬̟͗́͌ͣ̀̕͝ă̗͔ͤ̓̕͠͝, master of the Night. With his power Sorina was able to enact revenge on the very people who tried to have her killed. Her power grew and grew, and she was able to cut out a life for herself and amass a following. She didn’t seek domination: just enough power to protect herself and live well.

Her relationship with 𝔊͎̒͜𝔯̸̶̶̩̝͋ͣ͛𝔬̨̥ͫ̊̀̓͞𝔞̵̮̮ͫ̉̈̓̽͜͠ͅ𝔷̡̬̟͗́͌ͣ̀̕͝ă̗͔ͤ̓̕͠͝ changed as well. It became more than just Warlock and Patron. It wasn’t a loving relationship, neither side interested in something like that, but it was deeper than one Sorina had with anyone else. From this union her daughter, Viorela Corbeanu, was born. After her birth, 𝔊͎̒͜𝔯̸̶̶̩̝͋ͣ͛𝔬̨̥ͫ̊̀̓͞𝔞̵̮̮ͫ̉̈̓̽͜͠ͅ𝔷̡̬̟͗́͌ͣ̀̕͝ă̗͔ͤ̓̕͠͝ refused to have another. There could only be one with his blood per generation, he said. Only one with access to that power.

It wasn’t until she went through puberty that her infernal heritage was clear. Horns, tail, glowing eyes and dark purple skin. While being a Tiefling made her a target, her magic was strong. As was her son’s.

Her son was the first to ignore the warning about having multiple children. After all, it didn’t matter if only one ended up like him. So he had two children. The first transformed as he did when he hit puberty. The second succumbed to an illness and died tragedy before she could reach that age.

It wasn’t just a warning. It was a curse. Only one child could be born per generation.

As magic disappeared from the world, the demonic features got less and less with each generation. Still knowledge of their ancestry was passed down along with warning of the curse. It wasn’t until the second generation without any visible demonic features that the decision was made to keep their infernal heritage secret. It wasn’t important anymore.

So from then on, the bloodline has remained unaware of their origins. The curse has been inactive for five hundred years, but is still passed down as a superstition.

Sabina Lucaci was born to Matei Lucaci and Katherine Gray in the small town of Twin Pines. Her parents weren’t married at the time as she was an unplanned, but welcome, surprise to a couple in their mid twenties. Matei had moved to America from Romania when he became an adult to study, but ended up having to drop out and following the ‘love of his life’ to her hometown. Here he worked in the fishing industry primarily.

They weren’t well off, but Bea was raised in a loving home. Her parents married when she was a toddler and she doesn’t have many negative memories of her earliest years. But as she moved towards the double digits, her parents' relationship turned rocky. Hushed arguments became loud and heated. They argued openly over Bea- and over the second child her mom had wanted and her dad refused to have.The household fractured. Her parents divorced shortly after she turned ten.

From there she spent equal time at two much worse off homes, both sides struggling without the double income. But Bea was a confident and positive child. Bright in more ways than one, she excelled in school while being incredibly friendly. It was difficult to deal with her parent’s separating, but she did better than both thought she would.

A couple of years later, her mom remarried. Then, she had another child. And another.

Bea started to spend more time at her dad’s, preferring the quiet. The two of them were close and she loved him. He always encouraged her to do her best, and to not give up on her dreams. He didn’t want her to end up like him, forced to drop out of university for reasons outside of his control. He planned to do everything he could to support her. But money was tight, so Bea took up a temp summer job at Coney Island from when she was fourteen, before working weekends part time from when she was sixteen.

Along with excelling academically, Bea was popular in school. She was a girl that almost everyone knew, someone who was always cheerful and smiled at everyone. She was nice to everyone and seemed to get on with them too. Like a ray of absolute sunshine. But while Bea was popular and well liked, she had very few proper friends. Close ones. One of the few was Rowan- or Roro, as Bea teasingly called her. Much shyer, their friendship was a bit of an odd one, but Bea liked the quieter company. It balanced her.

It was Bea, with her confident and bright demeanour, who encouraged Rowan to go out of comfort zone and apply for university. To actually leave, just like Bea planned to. Bea worked her hardest for that goal too. She knew she had to get a scholarship to be able to afford it. But she was doing well enough that she should manage to get one that paid most of the fees at her prepared school.

Everything was going well. She was excelling, and most people liked her. It was fine that she was sacrificing sleep. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have many actual friends.

But it meant when everything came crashing down around her, there was no one to help pick her back up.

Right before final exams and her SAT, Bea’s mental health plummeted. She lost confidence in herself and struggled to even get out of bed. It was so sudden. She went from being happy and doing well, to struggling with depression that hit out of nowhere. But she still managed to push through and sit what she had to… but her grades just weren’t what they had been. She’d completely burnt herself out. She didn’t get the full scholarship at her chosen school. She didn’t even get into that school, and she didn’t get any scholarships anywhere. The one school she did get into she couldn’t afford.

Her dad reassured her that she could resit everything in a year and apply again. She just needed to rest a bit. Her mum was sympathetic too - but her attention was taken up by her two other younger children.

There was still some hope. Bea increased her hours at the carnival job, and studied on her own. All she needed was some kind of scholarship and between her working and some money from her dad, she’d be fine. She lived full time with him now, helping with bills here and there.

Then that winter, things got worse. Her dad’s boat capsized in a freak accident, and he presumably drowned. They didn’t find his body.

Now Bea had to deal with the grief of losing the person she was closest to, and face that university was just a pipe dream now. She couldn’t afford it herself. She could barely afford to keep the apartment her and her dad had lived in. While she pushed into a worse state of depression, she didn’t want to lose the place she considered home and what she had left of him.

So she went full time at the carnival. Then, eventually, she was given the promotion to assistant manager. It was a shit job with way too many responsibilities for the pay, but it wasn’t like Bea had anything else going on in her life. And it meant she could cover the costs of the tiny, shitty apartment while having enough to fund her smoking habit on the side.

Life wasn’t good. Quite frankly, it was shit. Sometimes she thought about ending it… but she never did. She couldn’t. Not when her dad wouldn’t want her to. She couldn’t do that to her mum, as much as she didn’t see her often, or to the younger siblings she wasn’t that close to. Or the few friends she had, even though she didn’t have contact after they all escaped town.

She loosely clung onto life, even though she didn’t have any hope. A shit job in a dead end town… she didn’t see any different future.

But recently, things have changed a bit. Rowan- for some godforsaken reason- came back and started working on Coney Island. Sure, Bea was her sort of boss, but there was… some small amount of comfort from an old friend’s return. It was a break from the horrible monotony. Just a little bit she found herself able to joke with someone- even if it was mostly sarcastic.

Then, there’s the magic. While it should be thrilling to have something out of the ordinary happen in her shit, boring life… Bea’s just pissed off at it. She’d rather not have constant whispers in her ear, thanks.

_{Magic
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}
"Can you fucking shut up for one goddamn minute?!"

MAGIC ⫻ Infernal. Bea can (unknowingly) manifest shadows from people’s fears and nightmares, and manipulate them.

MAGIC DESCRIPTION ⫻

Bea comes from a demonic bloodline that specialised in fear and nightmare magic, shadow magic, and mental curses. At their strongest her ancestors could manifest shadowy versions of great beasts from nightmares, with the power to level towns. They could command the manifested shades to act as their spies, getting comprehensive information whispered in their ear. Nightmares and fears themselves were manipulated and used for fuel, with powerful mental curses cast, such as haunting people their worst nightmares.

Right now, Bea can manifest people’s fears and recent nightmares in an area around her as shadows, and do incredibly basic manipulation of them. Manipulation wise, she can create a thin ‘whip’ of shadow that she can use to trip people or lash out at them. It’s relatively useless, able to trip if it's not noticed or cause a shallow wound on open flesh.

Bea has no control over the shadow manifestation. She has no idea that she’s the one bringing talking shadows into existence. Currently, they’re just shadows that take a vague shape of whatever they were formed from. They whisper to Bea, and she could talk to them - but she generally just tells them to go away. No one else can see these talking, moving shadows. Once they manifest they naturally flock to her. Against her will, Bea manifests the shadows from people within a forty metre radius around her. They are basically useless - she has no named spells, because she doesn’t even realise this is part of her magic and that she’s bringing them into existence.

LIMITS ⫻

Bea’s manifestation isn’t something she can actively cast or turn off at the moment, thanks to her lack of understanding and skill. This constant manifestation not only drains her energy, but leads to a near constant flow of irritating, useless shadows that whisper to her. She can manifest them in forty metres around her. People who are happier don’t tend to ‘produce’ shadows because it would require her to delve deeper into their mind, something she currently can’t do. The shadows also don’t actually do anything, nor can they interact with the world right now. Only Bea can see, hear and talk to them.

Manipulation wise, she can only make a basic whip that lashes out, trips or wraps around something once. It’s as strong as an average human in terms of ability to hold on or hurt.

WEAKNESSES ⫻ (DO NOT FILL THIS OUT, I WILL PROVIDE IT FOR YOU)

_{Other
^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}}
"Nah, Tieflings aren't real. They're just people pretending their ancestors fucked a demon to make it cool when they’re massive cunts."

In case it wasn’t obvious, Bea has no idea she’s a tiefling. She’s in denial it’d even be possible.

Bea is the only one left in the direct bloodline of 𝔊͎̒͜𝔯̸̶̶̩̝͋ͣ͛𝔬̨̥ͫ̊̀̓͞𝔞̵̮̮ͫ̉̈̓̽͜͠ͅ𝔷̡̬̟͗́͌ͣ̀̕͝ă̗͔ͤ̓̕͠͝, but there might be some distant relatives she doesn't know about. Technically the ‘one child per generation’ curse wasn’t active when there wasn’t any magic to fuel it.

Bea speaks Romanian, but she’s worried she's starting to lose it now she has no one to speak it with.

Recollections: Primal Sinister

---

Interactions: Elijah @Theyra, Elena @Qia
St Alexia’s Practice

---

"Thank you both," Loni smiled at both Elena and Elijah when they called her magic useful. Impressive. She didn’t agree, because she’d seen impressive magic. Impressive magic was Vin ripping through Apparitions with their bare hands, and Momo easily able to hold up a building when it collapsed. Not her. Not when she was scared of her Black Lux.

Her head listed forward to rest on Luciana’s, holding her daughter as close as possible. There was a comfort there, even though she could still feel the dark apathy swirling around her. Practically strangers wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, but Luciana clearly could. She wasn’t calming down like Loni hoped she would.

"Whoa, magic that brings back memories is real cool. I ain’t seen magic mixed with somethin’ like tea before, either. Memories ain't easy to play 'round with, I've heard!" Loni pushed down the annoying negative feelings in favour of genuine enthusiasm towards what Elena said she could do. Both could be so useful… information gathering was important, from what she knew. Their coven wouldn’t be so strong without all the information and alliances they had.

And a spear to kill Paranormals… a slight shudder ran down her spine. No, he clearly only used it on dangerous Paranormals. Like Apparitions. "That sounds like a really useful spear- I s’pose it means you don’t hafta worry ‘bout hitting Blinds. And I’m sorry you got it under bad circumstances."

Which seemed to be the case with most Paranormal. An unfortunate circumstance of the magical world. But Elijah was talking about leaving - and Loni certainly wasn’t going to push him to stay. As much as she enjoyed the company, she wasn’t the pushy sort like that.

"Oh ‘course, I ain’t gonna keep you," Loni said to Elijah with a smile. She turned her head to check her wound. The muscles seemed to be coming back together now… so she was sure there was no danger. It would be all done in ten minutes or so. Thankfully. "It was nice t’meet you, Elijah. Remember, if you need help, Sin Sisters! Just say my name!"

Then she turned back to look at Elena. She assumed that she wasn’t going to leave - if she was, Loni wouldn’t stop her, of course. But she wasn’t going to wait for her to say one way or the other before speaking what was on her mind.

"So, your mom taught you ‘bout magic too? Is she the only other Adept y’know?" Loni asked, thinking about how it had been for her before she got her job. Just her, her mamá and Vin. Then just her and Vin. And her mamá had been too busy to really help them develop spells, outside of ones Loni never wanted to learn. "If you ain’t met many, would you wanna meet more? You could come round my work sometime even if there ain’t any danger. We gotta few White adepts, maybe you can chat and help each other. We got loadsa knowledge and stuff. Course, only if you wanna!"

Loni’s expression was completely open and genuine. She was, of course, just making assumptions from her own situation. But it was how it tended to be for South Siders. There weren’t exactly friendly covens opening up their doors to any kindled Adepts. It was family, and not much else. Far as she was aware Vin still only had her.

"Even if you don’t, I’d love to try some of your tea sometime… Assumin’ you don’t just mix your magic in some kinda cheap bagged stuff? I ain’t a tea expert, but I’ve always liked it when I tried it. Not that I mean I'd like to try the magical stuff, even if I wanna see how it feels, I ain't got anythin' I wanna forget or remember." Loni continued. As she spoke her head tilted down a bit, pressing another kiss to the top of Luciana’s head. She gently rubbed her back, shifting her a little bit so her face wasn’t fully pressed into Loni’s chest. One big, anxious brown eye peered out and towards Elena. "Oh, just not today. I gotta concentrate on comfortin’ Luciana before I work."

Recollections: Primal Sinister

---

Interactions: Elara, Lucas & Other Grove Members @NoriWasHere, Agent Jackson @Tesserach
Front of Bill’s Tattoo Shop

---

Bryn’s head snapped around towards the outsider who stepped back out. The one who probably didn’t have magic. Just a gun… which could kill one of them, sure, but the doppelganger? Probably not.

"Yeah, it ain’t fuckin’ dead!" Bryn shouted. The other half of the ash streamed out of the bag, spreading out in front of her. She constantly kept it under her control, preparing to form it into a solid wall or more fiery projectiles if needed. "No medical attention needed- stay the fuck back, unless you want it to impale you!"

It was a lie that they didn’t need medical attention. Elara clearly did, and Bryn was fairly certain she’d broken at least one rib herself… but they didn’t need it from outside. They had their own. And she didn’t like hearing sirens in the distance. Emergency services were just bad news in a situation like this. Especially if there were cops. They were more likely to fucking arrest them for murder than actually help.

She crouched, side stepping towards Lucas while staying close to Elara. It put her within earshot of most of the Grove members, while far enough away from everyone else that they shouldn’t be able to hear.

"Lucas, teleport me and Elara outta here soon as that thing’s dead. Ethan, Ryan, Doran- handle cleanup for us." She gave out quiet orders. She didn’t have the time or patience to deal with all of the cityfolk asking questions and poking around their town. They had shit to do… and she’d probably just snap. "We need y’know what. Try stop ‘em from doing any shit in our town, but-" She nodded her head towards Varnan. "He knew Bill at least."

Recollections: Primal Sinister

---

Interactions: Elijah @Theyra, Elena @Qia
St Alexia’s Practice

---

"I hope we meet again after this!" Loni said with a bright, genuine smile. She really did. She hardly knew him- or Elena- but there was a connection forged in strife, right? They seemed like good people. Maybe she should just give them her number…

No. That was the exact thing Momo and Vin had given her a hard time for doing before. Being too trusting, handing out her personal number to strangers… She’d given them her workplace, at least. She was there far more than her own home!

"Sure, we could’ve met under better circumstances… but that don’t really happen in this city much," she continued with a shrug. Her hand was still rubbing comforting circles in Luciana’s back, the little girl not responding to much. She was just seeking comfort in her mother’s warmth. "I think you’re right about the bakery… the owner was givin’ us this look as we left too. I dunno, felt real judging. Then that thing... maybe it wanted somethin’ off her?"

Loni wasn’t really one for figuring out why something had attacked a specific place. She wasn’t a strategist. She was a follower, really. But she didn’t dwell on it… Hand raising into a wave as Elena re-entered the room.

"Look, mi amor, it’s the nice lady who carried you here. Why don’t you stop hidin’?" She said softly to Luciana. Her daughter’s head shook slightly, and she stayed curled up on Loni with her face pressed against her. Loni let out a soft sigh, holding her close. She probably wasn’t going to calm down for a while… and not here. Loni could still feel her own skin knitting itself back together under the effects of Lia’s spell.

It would be a while yet before she could leave, and get Luciana somewhere she’d feel safe.

Which left filling the time with conversation.

"If you don’t mind me askin’, what can you both do? Magic wise." Loni asked the question to Elijah and Elena with a smile. "It’s safe to talk ‘bout it here- Most’ve the staff are coven members or related. Not that I know ‘em, they’re from the fancier part of the coven- I ain’t familiar with the people I don’t work with."

Loni paused for a moment. She should probably talk about her own magic first… that was only fair. Otherwise it looked like she was trying to get information out of them, which she really wasn’t.

"I’m an Adept myself. I got Green and Black lux… Green for manipulatin’ my body, Black for manipulatin’ ghosts. I don’t wanna assume you don’t know ‘bout it, but I know plenty ain’t lucky like me. My mamá taught me ‘bout it when I kindled! I ain’t so good with the Black, but it’s how I made that shield… and weakened that thing after you stabbed it. With my Green… well… I can grow wings, keep going longer than I should and a few other things." She spoke incredibly earnestly and openly about her magic. "I ain’t the most useful when somethin’ like that happens… but I plan to improve it."

Recollections: Primal Sinister

---

Nonconsensual Magical Transformation Music

Interactions: Paloma @Atrophy, Gideon @NoriWasHere
South Side, Circle Neighbourhood, Outside David Smith’s Home

---

It was strange being frozen. Frustrating. Like a bug trapped in amber, Vin could hear everything that was being said without being able to respond. Malik constantly saying help was on the way- good. Help arriving… that bastard Marco saying they just needed stitches. Vin would make sure he needed stitches if he didn’t do his stupid fucking magic. They were literally dying here and he was so caught up in toxic fucking masculinity that he’d let them bleed out! Sparkling fucker!

They couldn’t even fucking laugh at his embarrassing transformation.

Vin came out of the Bystander with a gasp that turned into a pained grunt, pressing the blood soaked sweater into their side. Black crackled at the edges of their eyes, threatening their consciousness. They just had to get through this… slightly sharp teeth dug into their dry lips. Enough to keep them awake. Their dark eyes, drained and tinged with enough apathy to look almost lifeless, moved to Marco. Of course, their words were anything but lifeless. ”Get the fuck on with it, unless you want taunted by my fuckin’ ghost for the rest of your life.”

Marco sighed as he raised his wand up high causing it to illuminate in a bright healing glow that enveloped his body. The light surged outward, a searing hot pink that painted the landscape in surreal, garish hues. The energy wrapped around Vin’s broken form like a living thing, swirling and pulsing as it consumed them until there was nothing visible but the hot pink light that seemed to sparkle like a star filled night. Vin’s body was pulled into the air by the magic and remained suspended, the magic forcing their one normal leg to bend while the leg that was half missing extended outward. Their back arched as their arms shot outwards above their head.

The transformation began. The light coiled even brighter around Vin’s missing leg, almost becoming blindingly white but with a faint pink hue. Threads of magic wove together, knitting sinew and bone down the missing half of the limb yet the viscera was completely hidden by the magic. For fifteen seconds the light worked its way down the leg until the limb was finally reformed, whole and perfect, before the glow spread upward, overtaking the rest of their body.

Vin’s torn, bloodied clothing dissolved into shimmering particles, replaced by layers of glittering fabric that seemed to materialize from the air itself. The glittering fabric formed a crescent moon symbol on their chest, only this one had a pinker hue compared to the one on Marco. A cascading skirt of iridescent pink and silver took shape, catching the light with every movement. Delicate ribbons spiraled around their arms, ending in ornate cuffs that shimmered with unnatural brightness. Their shoes were replaced by gleaming heels, impossibly impractical yet dazzlingly ornate. And they were pink. Their socks were replaced with a pair of thigh highs as white as the fresh snow around them.

The light flared one final time, and when it receded, Vin was forced upright, their new leg steady beneath them. They were fully healed, their posture strong, but their form was now a complete shift from their typical crude attire.. The air was still again, the only sound the faint rustle of their glittering. Marco’s sigh was the only thing to break the silence. “I hate you,” he whispered to his apparition who gave a sly chuckle in response.

”Can you dispel the fucking shitty outfits?” Vin hissed, feeling incredibly uncomfortable in this outfit. It had been a while since they'd had to suffer Marco's healing - he was always their last resort - so they didn't quite remember the details.

Marco put their hands on their hips and sighed extra hard. He mumbled out something that no-one could catch.
“Come again, Marco,” Gideon said in an annoyed tone.

“Twenty four hours. We’re both stuck like this for twenty four hours. I had plans tonight,” he groaned as he leaned against the truck, causing a faint whimsy melody to play somewhere in the distance.

”Fuck!” Vin shouted loudly. They shot over, surprisingly dextrous in heels, to grab their coat where it had been thrown on a nearby pathetic little bush. They pulled it on to at least cover the top half of their horrendous outfit. Then they turned to Gideon, nodding… finally about to answer his question. ”Yeah, I finished it boss.”

As they said that they turned back to look at Paloma. They fucking hated owing someone, and technically she stopped them from bleeding to death. Technically they’d saved her first… But a thank you was a small price to pay to prevent inevitable whining.

Wait, what the fuck was this lady doing to them now? Blinking at them like that… no fucking way. Was she flirting with them? Right now? Seriously?!

She wasn’t one of those creeps who kept popping up when they shifted in public was she? Vin felt a chill run down their spine. They knew they were hot as fuck both in and out of the tiger form, but this was too much. She couldn’t even take them out for dinner first? Or at least wait until their boss wasn’t right there?

Best to just ignore it.

They turned back to Gideon with a grimace, bowing their head slightly. ”I’m sorry, boss. I let it kill Caleb. I underestimated the fuckin’ thing. I let a-”

“You killed it.”

Huh? Vin’s head twisted back around to Paloma, even as she stopped looking at them. Yeah, they killed it. Why wouldn’t they- the wanting to talk to it. Fuck, she was getting at them over that? When they’d nearly died?

”I killed it cause it was gonna kill me, ’Pa’.” Vin snapped, lips pulling back to show off their sharp teeth. Their hands tensed, before curling into fists. It was lucky they couldn’t cast any spells right now, preventing them from transforming again. ”I didn’t promise you shit. But ‘preciate that I was gonna try… I had to use a last fuckin’ resort to stop it. Fuckin’ hell, I was fightin’ for my fuckin’ life and you-”

Vin stopped before they got more heated. There was a tiny feeling of guilt as Paloma went from accusatory to hurt. But more than that, it was Gideon standing right there. Remember what we stand for… This wasn’t some North Sider prick. She was one of the people they were meant to protect, annoying as she was… so long as she didn’t cross the boss.

”Look, I dunno why you’re so worked up over this. Whatever you needed from that thing, or David, or whatever… I’ll fuckin’ help you with it. Findin’ information or beatin’ people or whatever you needed. It wasn’t gonna give you shit. Just fuckin’ calm down. I ain’t the kinda person to do this normally, alright?”

They pinched the bridge of their nose, taking a deep breath. Now they needed to explain to Gideon why there was a normal person involved. Not that it was their fault! But they hadn’t managed to keep her out of the house, so it was partly on them.

”This lady was lookin’ for David too. Came round same time we did, shoved herself in. I couldn’t stop her. Fuckin’ annoyin’- we had to protect her. Made shit tough. But I’d be…” Vin grimaced. ”Dead without her magic.”

They folded their arms, moving right past that. ”It got David. Sucked his body into itself, like it fuckin’ ate him whole. It’s some kinda Apparition, but it ain’t like any I seen before. I could kill it. Didn’t feel the same as killin’ ‘em, it left a body behind. It didn’t abscise David either. There was two Davids till it stuck its tendrils in him. It wasn’t in him, it copied him or some shit like that.”

---

Interactions: Elijah @Theyra, Elena @Qia
St Alexia’s Practice

---

"Take your time," Loni said to Elena with a friendly smile, taking Luciana back. She carefully laid her on her good side, letting her daughter curl up on her chest. One hand supported her, while the other comfortingly rubbed her back. She turned her head to look at Elijah.

"You already heard my full name, but I prefer Loni. Nice to meetcha, Elijah," Loni smiled back, but there was still slightly pained. More than anything it was the apathy that still clung to her. An emptiness she always felt when she used the Lux she hated. It was only because of the little girl on her arms that she was able to make herself feel through it. She was forcing herself to act like she always did, but it didn’t feel natural. "And this is Luciana. Normally she’s a bit more chatty but she’s still scared, I think. Hmm, Mijita?"

Luciana just pressed closer to Loni, hiding her face in her chest. Loni leaned forward to gently kiss the top of her head.

"’M glad you’re stayin’... both of you," they nodded to the door Elena had gone out of. "You’re from the South, right? It’s more comfortable… not that I had a problem with the nice lady who bandaged me up! Just, she was clearly from this side and… it ain’t so comfortable. They ain’t so fond of us up here."

Though there were North Siders Loni knew and loved- primarily Momo, her boss. Most of the people she directly worked with were from the South too… but Momo didn’t treat them any differently. That was unusual.

"Maybe it’s like fate we were all in the Bakery… not that I think fate’d bring an attack from somethin’ like that." It was pretty obvious that Loni was someone who talked a lot. Right now, it was partly self soothing. Filling up the air with noise let her know that she was still here and alive. "It just ain’t everyday there’s so many people with magic in the same room… well, in a normal room. I’m surrounded by magic when at work, but that ain’t the same as just bumpin’ into other magical people…"

Loni shook her head. "What I’m tryna say is that… maybe there’s somethin’ positive outta it. Us three meetin’ and all."

Recollections: Primal Sinister

---

Interactions: Elijah @Theyra, Elena @Qia
St Alexia’s Practice

---

They were on their way out the door as the owner reappeared from the bag… and Loni was glad. Even injured and out of it as she was she recognised that look. The disdainful look. She was so used to dealing with it… but she couldn’t right now. And didn’t have to… the woman staying could.

It wasn’t a long way to the clinic but by the time they reached it Loni was beginning to struggle. Blood began to seep through the bandage, dark red staining the white. She was even paler and leaning on Elijah more heavily than she had been when they first left.

St Alexia’s Practice was a smaller clinic, with a warm atmosphere upon entering. The reception and waiting room’s walls were lined with comfortable looking chairs in muted blues and greens. Plants were dotted about the place, and natural light came in through wide windows. It lacked the normal clinical feeling. It was quiet, with only a few people sitting around waiting.

“Welcome, may I take your name- Oh!” The receptionist paused her normal speech as she looked up from her computer at their entry. Her eyes immediately went to Loni’s shoulder, with blood blooming across the gauze, then to her pallid face. She seemed to press something. “We don’t have the facilities to treat you, but we can stabilise and transfer you to-”

"Alondra Rodriguez, work for… Moriah Motta… Twin-Hill," Loni interrupted, gritting her teeth. She was magical and she could get the magic treatment.

She didn’t hear anything else from the receptionist, but suddenly a nurse was there ushering her through.

"Can they come-"

“Of course.” A calm but firm voice, more physical support, and they were all rushed into another room. There were two hospital beds, both unoccupied, and Loni was immediately put onto one. Seats were set a distance away from both beds, if Elijah and Elena wanted to sit - close enough to the bed without getting in the way.

The nurse immediately started checking her vitals, before moving around to remove the bandages. It revealed the nasty gash underneath. Loni squeezed her eyes shut, tilting her head away. She couldn’t look at it. Her chest heaved up and down in sudden panic. What if they didn’t make it in time, what if-

“Alondra? I’m Lia Amato, I’m here to treat you. Can you take a deep breath for me, please? It will make things easier.” Someone else spoke, and Loni turned her head to look at her. A young, darker skinned woman with neat braids pulled back into a ponytail. The doctor… no, magical healer, probably. Did healers bother getting medical degrees? Probably not. Did it matter?

As Loni started to calm her breathing, Lia’s hands came up to hover over the wound. Her eyes flickered over to the others in the room. “Are they?”

Loni nodded. The hands over her wound started to glow… and with it came excruciating pain. It was as if the claws were in there, tearing her flesh apart from the inside. She bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood so that she didn’t scream. It hurt, it hurt-

“The wound is stabilised.”

The agony was gone as quickly as it had appeared. Loni dared to look down… it was still there. A gaping wound. The bleeding had stopped, but it was still there. She looked up at Lia in shock. The woman smiled slightly.

“Would you like the rest healed immediately, but painfully, or slower with less pain?”

"S- Slower…"

With a nod, Lia got back to work. Her hands glowed a soft green, and this time it was warm. The pain was no worse than the pain of the injury… no, it was alleviated. Slowly Loni’s muscle started to creep inwards, stitching back together.

Once the spell was cast, the healer stepped back. She spoke louder this time - still to Loni, mainly, but now so the whole room could hear. “I’ve healed the wound enough that there’s no further risk. It will take ten to fifteen minutes to fully heal, but it will be another thirty until you regain all the blood you lost. I recommend you stay until then. I’ll come back to then to ensure there’s no other problems. There’s a button beside your bed you can press for help.”

She then turned to Elena and Elijah. “If she starts to look paler, be sick, or just look worse, make sure it’s pressed.”

With a nod, she turned around and left. The nurse stayed for a little longer, making sure Loni got water and a blanket to cover herself, before excusing herself when she wasn’t needed. Efficient service… Loni was happy enough for them to leave. While she was fairly certain the healer was a coven member, she didn’t actually recognise her…

"Thank you for helpin’ so much." Loni turned towards Elena and Elijah, ensuring the blanket covered the wound that was healing layer by layer. She didn’t want to scare Luciana any more than she already had…

Though Luciana was barely looking at her. The little girl had been quiet the whole time, clinging to Elena and hiding her face against her. She trembled, and was quietly sobbing. Terrified, still.

"Luciana, baby…" Loni whispered, reaching out with her good arm. Seeing her like that was more painful than the injury or the healing. It hurt her heart… she just wanted Luci to be safe and happy.

Luci’s head turned slightly, still clinging to Elena. She whimpered, reaching out for her mother. “Mama.”

They were close enough that Loni was able to take her hand at least. She looked at the other two with a weak smile. Then she started absolutely rambling. "You don’t hafta stick around if you don’t wanna… I’d appreciate the company, but I get we’re basically strangers! I just really ‘preciate all you’ve done- oh, if you ever come across danger like that again in the North Side and you ain’t got help, try get to my workplace… Sin Sisters, this side of the city… it ain’t too far. Just go and say you know Loni Rodriguez. If I ain’t around I’m sure my boss’ll help- she’s my coven leader too, and there’s plenty of people that can help. Healin’, fighting’, anythin’ really…" It was for Elena more than Elijah, since he was the reason they were even still alive, really. "Hopefully there ain’t any more of those things, though."

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

The Office > Home

By the time the sun was rising over St. Portwell once more, Casey had loaded several crates of supplies and readied them for delivery. With his magic, the entire floor had been alive with the pattering of materials sliding themselves into boxes. The constant thudding of his ammo presses making up for lost stock. Theo's quiet but persistent recounting as he watched the various bits of the large order come together. He had a clipboard and a list, and was constantly marking down one after the other until it was all done.

From his seat, Casey had time to personally examine the data Leon had brought in. About the Sycamore's latest ethereal meeting spot, and about their timetable, where they'd wind up, et cetra. He wasted no time planning their date around this.

Couple's lunch on the Lady of the Bay: A fancy ferry that took people on a leisurely ride from the North end of the Bay out to the surrounding islands. While it stopped at places like Cracker, he planned on a small island nearby Elysium. Close enough that if there was a serious emergency, they'd be able to respond.

Not like the destination in particular didn't have anything… Like Cracker Island, Misty Island had its own small town with rustic shops and kerosene lanterns lighting the cobbled streets. Initially a fort and the town that rose around it, Misty was mostly famous for the old reused structures. The main part of the fort had been converted into a resort, which he also booked a night in.
He planned on presenting it as optional, but even if they didn't spend the night there, he wanted to give her the option in case she found it appealing. At this time of year, it was mostly empty anyway, meaning they had the run of rooms.

After the lunch and arriving on the island, he figured they'd attend the small carnival living in perpetuity there, to ride a few rides and play a few games in the cold. It probably would've been a better summer trip, but Misty Island was quite aesthetic during the winter. Frozen mist often congealed into big spikes of ice overnight. Some called it magic, others tried to prove them wrong…

But it was a peaceful place: A particularly silent hill climbing up from the water.

Satisfied with these plans, Casey spent another half an hour learning how to make pancakes on the internet. It seemed easy enough, so long as the stove top stayed at a decent temperature. He was kind of astonished she'd managed to set the fire, but…
It was funny to him that they didn't really have most of the ingredients. No buttermilk, no strawberries (he'd eaten them all), no maple syrup.

So he went down to the occupied floors, knocking on doors until he managed to gather enough of what he was looking for. A few security team members were foodies in their own rights, and gave him some tips to go along with his requisitioned ingredients in exchange for a little gossip. One even had a heart-shaped mould, which Casey was excited to use.

Finally making it back upstairs, he checked his watch. Eight hours had passed so quickly… The bees were still buzzing about the hanging garden, and he put his grocery haul on the kitchen island before making his way to where he'd left Trisha. Half expecting her to be awake, he didn't knock on the half-opened door. He just poked his head in to look around.

Trisha was awake… sort of. It was that half awake state that she drifted in and out of in the morning, considering waking up then always deciding to snooze a bit more. Her whole body was curled around the pillow Casey had used to replace himself, cheek pressed into it and eyes squeezed shut. Her long hair spread out across the couch and across her face. At some point while sleeping she'd kicked off most of the covers and her sweatpants, leaving bare legs sticking out from a t-shirt that reached her knees. The covers had ended up added to the pillow in her arms, trailing across her shoulders.

It wasn't Trisha that noticed Casey peering in, too busy trying to get back to sleep, but the bees scattered about the room. There were about ten resting across her body in various spots, and more on the couch and on the television. A couple buzzed over to Casey inquisitively, recognising his smell. The ones on Trisha started to move, crawling into her bare arms. She let out grumble, shifting and trying to dislodge them.
“M’sleepin, stop…"

But the bees were insistent. They'd been woken up by the intrusion, and they were rested - so their Queen must be too. Pheromones bombarded her and little feet crawled all over her. She wasn't going to get back to sleep through this, so… her eyes cracked open, squinting at whatever had bothered them. A sleepy smile pulled up her lips as she spotted Casey's face. Seeing him made waking up worth it.
“Morning… best view to wake up to," she mumbled, letting go of the pillows and pushing up onto her elbows.
“Did you sleep at all?"

Once he realized she was conscious, Casey slowly swung into the room. He was grinning from ear to ear.
”Naaaah… If I’ve got work to do, I can pretty much just stay awake. Like when you’re gaming.-”
Casey’s eyes narrowed into a vague smugness.
”-You were totally gonna keep playing the other night!”

Being careful to avoid any errant bees in his path, Casey slid up onto the edge of the couch so he could inevitably pick her up… She didn’t know it was coming, but from the moment he saw her messy hair, he knew it was a necessary action.
”So… I spent the night planning a quiet date for us. Stuff you usually do in Summer, but I think you’ll enjoy this a lot more. It’s a pretty nice little trip not too far away.”

He was alongside her now, propped up on one elbow with his legs stretched along the length of the furniture. The free arm stretched out, hooking over her and tugging her in to plant a kiss on her cheek.

“I don't stay up all night just to game," Trisha grumbled. But she immediately softened again when he pulled her over, stretching out her body so she could wriggle up right next to him. As she did the bees on her body flew off, towards the back of the couch. Her eyes creased happily as she looked up at him, gaze openly loving in her still waking up state. There'd been no time for anxieties to creep in…

And he was talking about their date. He'd planned their date. A nice little trip… how much had he planned? She would've been happy with just a nice meal out, but he'd… planned a whole thing for her? The more it settled in, the clearer the love and soft happiness across her face got. She leaned up to lightly kiss him.
“You planned a whole trip? Just for a date? Really?" It was pretty clear by the way she smiled that she wasn't upset about it, but rather shocked. She was. It was a lot for her… he'd put in so much effort… A soft giggle escaped her lips. She felt giddy, like this was her first relationship. It was her first love...
“That sounds really nice. Are you going to tell me what we're doing, or is it a surprise? I don't mind, I just need to know how warm I need to dress."

”It's as much of a surprise as you want it to be, my dear…” Casey chuckled, returning her kiss with another on her forehead.
”I would definitely bring a coat. We're gonna be doing a bit of walking. You should also pack for an overnight, since we're not gonna be sleeping here.” he grinned, impressed with himself that the stuff he'd wanted to do was actually available.

”I thought about waiting to ask what you wanted to do, but… Well, like, in movies and stuff it seems like the romantic thing to do is just plan and assume that you have the other person's interests at heart. Was I… Right?” he asked gently, trying to gauge a response.

Trisha looked at him with wide, shining eyes. Then she nodded, practically beaming at him. If it included staying somewhere overnight that meant he had a whole day planned… or at least, a vague plan for a whole day. They probably weren’t going very far, considering what he said yesterday, but that didn’t matter. It was a full day’s date planned just for her…
“Yes, yes, definitely right. Having someone put in the effort to plan something is… really really nice. Like I really matter that much to you.”

Of course he’d said it plenty of times to her, and proved it too, but it each thing added up. Her hands came up to cover her face as she began to go red, rolling over to bury herself against him as she giggled. She just hadn’t experienced something like it. All that effort…
“It’s really romantic… don’t tell me what we’re doing, keep it a surprise. Unless it involves any extreme sports… which I assume it doesn’t? Not that I’d mind, just that's an ask in advance thing… Oh, when do we leave? I need to know how much time I have to get ready. And to pack.”

She paused, uncovering her face to look at him again. Her face was the picture of satisfaction - even though the date hadn't even started yet.
“Thank you, Casey. I’m really looking forward to it.”

Casey was elated seeing Trisha getting so excited over it. He only hoped she didn't accidentally get her hopes up high for something incredibly extravagant. It was meant to be simple, emphasizing the time they could spend with one another in relative proximity to Elysium should things go particularly south. Not that he expected such, nor did he do anything drastic like task a crew with circling the island to prevent breakouts.

Definitely not…

Looking at his watch, it wasn't exactly ten yet. Plenty of time.
”Lunch is at One! But, I wanted to try doing something as a couple before we leave. I will say there's a big chance you're gonna think I'm an asshole over it, so it's totally optional and I won't be mad if you say no and just spend all your time getting ready instead…”
Of course he knew the risk of bringing up pancakes after she'd nearly burned their home down.

”I guess I'll just ask…-”
Casey slipped from the couch down to one knee. His hand slowly pulled Trisha's into his.
”Would you… Make pancakes with me?”

Trisha's head tilted to one side as her body followed him, twisting around and up into a sitting position. She looked a little confused. Why would she think he was an asshole over it when he'd already suggested it the night before? If she was going to react it would've been then. It almost made her more upset that he thought that but… the excitement and warmth over their date was greater. She wasn't going to ruin that.
And he was being so cute about it.

“Yes," she said simply, blank confused look turning into a smile again. Her handle curled in his and she swung her legs over the edge of the couch, sitting right in front of him.
“So long as you control the temperature… and maybe weigh out the ingredients… I'll be in charge of simple tasks like mixing and making sure bees don't fall into the batter. Or we can do it all properly together, where you stand behind me and turn it down when I almost burn it again."

She didn't seem… upset about the whole burning incident. It wasn't the burning that had upset her so much as the failure, and the fear that if she couldn't even do that one thing for Casey he'd decide she wasn't worth it. But the worse hadn't come to pass then.
“You know… one day when you actually ask the question I'm going to be expecting something like this. I guess then it'll definitely be a surprise."

The question was something he wasn’t sure of. Probably marriage? That was the only question one could be emphatic about in this context, right? He had gotten down onto one knee… It wasn’t like he was going to ask her to the shooting range over a platter of heart-shaped pancakes and a-

”Y’know, you’re really inspiring. I don’t really know what question you mean,-” he grinned, sarcasm leaking out of his smug face. ”-so now I have ideas for our next like… Thirty dates, and they all start with uh-”
From behind his back, Casey pulled out the heart-shaped pancake mould that he’d left in his back pocket. Since he hadn’t actually sat, it was still in pristine condition.
”-these bad-boys! Someone downstairs had these laying around, now they’re letting me borrow this one! I didn’t know if hearts were gonna be too sappy, but I loved it so…”

Standing fully, Casey offered his arm down for Trisha to take hold of.
”Getting up? Or you want me to get things started? I watched a whole bunch of videos last night about making pancakes, so I bet between the two of us they’re gonna be perfect.”

The heart-shaped mould was cute. Sure, it was really sappy, but that was fine. Trisha was happy to be sappy with Casey, especially when it was just them. It was nowhere near as sappy as saying they loved each other…
“I’m awake now, so…” She shook out her hair, before pulling it back and tying it into a loose ponytail with the hair tie pretty much permanently around her wrist when at home. Then she reached out from his arm, using it to pull herself to her feet.

“Getting up. If you watched videos you know more than me, I just read some tutorials… How do you, uh, use that.” She gestured to the mould, leaning into him and looking at it curiously.
“Do you put it in the pan and then put the batter in it? Or do you cut the batter in the pan? Won’t it be a bit tragic if we mess it up and end up with like a broken heart or something?”

”Oh… Pretty sure they just get greased?”
She was practically weightless as she pulled against him to lift herself fully. He could’ve carried ten of her. Would’ve, would. Would always be willing. His mind danced at the prospect of her love and affection being expressed between them in this tender moment. The lender had told him to grease it, of course… But she didn’t have to know that. He didn’t care. She asked, and he had an answer, and it just felt right. Like they’d always be able to do for one another.

”And, honestly? If we start putting fruit or chocolate or whatever into them, I don’t expect them to hold up amazingly. So, temper yourself ‘cuz we’re probably gonna end up with a few broken ones…”
His free hand now swept up to ruffle her bedhead properly, planting a kiss atop the fuzzy mass and dancing with her in a little motion. His hip bumped into her side, jostling her around slightly.

”How long d’you think it’s gonna take you to get ready? I’m not thinking we need to go crazy… But I’ll let you ultimately pick out what we’re both wearing since you’re the expert there.”

“You just want to get out of making the decision,” Trisha retorted accusingly, eyes narrowing up at him before she quickly broke and smiled. She was happy to pick for both of them, even if it would take her a little bit longer. Or maybe it would be easier, because she knew what they both had…
”An hour or two? I don’t need to wash my hair, so probably closer to an hour. I’ll give myself an hour and a half to be safe. Not cause I’m doing anything too fancy, just makeup and taming my hair can take a while. Then choosing outfits for us both…”

She shrugged one shoulder. She wanted to look nice, but she could achieve that with relatively simple makeup - she was naturally attractive, after all.
“C’mon, let’s go make some pancakes. Oh, if we have strawberries can I cut some up for the bees in here? I can sense they’re expecting something.” She didn’t really try to drag him anywhere, instead just hugging his arm and swinging her body back and forth, continuing the motions from his jostling. Like she was excited to get going.

Casey didn't give her much time to hang off of him, scooping her off her feet to cradle in his arms. He could lift her forever… Carry her for the rest of their lives. Just to feel the cursory weight of a human who was still breathing… He'd held a hundred dead comrades in the exact same pose, cradling their bodies as he pulled them from this hole or that trench.

But she wriggled slightly, probably to adjust her own comfort. Her hands didn't grip at him desperately. She wasn't gasping or breathing heavily or crying and begging to be put out…

But what if she was?

He looked down at her face, and his cheeks puffed with air that he slowly released. Trisha would be able to clearly feel him tense up as he did so, followed by an exhale that released some of it.
But his face was a little sadder now, though his awareness of the moment prevented him from breaking down into an anxiety attack.

”C'mon, Bee Babies! Let's get some breakfast!” he called after the few still working their way around the den.
Spinning on his heel, Casey was careful not to let Trisha smack into anything as he walked her back down the hall and into the kitchen.

”Alright, get ready-” he did his best to cover up the earlier anxiety with a joke. Pretending to drop her to feel her scramble in his arms, he finally bent down and let her feet touch the floor. It was enough to tell her she was still safe, and that she could escape him now.

Still laughing, he redirected his thoughts.
”Gotchaaaaa… Alright, you go ahead and get to choppin’ on the fruit, I'll get our actual mix made. Deal?” he asked with a wide grin.

Trisha let out a breathy laugh, heart pounding a little faster from the joke drop. She couldn’t exactly stop the jolt of panic that came with it, no matter how much she knew Casey wouldn’t actually drop her. But she’d felt his tension and she’d looked at his face long enough to see the slight sadness there. She didn’t know why… and decided not to ask about it. He would say if he wanted to.

“Deal. Be careful with the flour, it’ll get everywhere before you know it.” She lowered her heels onto the ground, but rather than immediately escaping she turned around to face him. Her face moved forward slowly, rubbing their noses together with a soft smile. Then she gently kissed him.
“And no getting it on me. If I have to wash my hair, that'll be an extra thirty minutes getting ready.”

She smiled teasingly, before slipping away from him. It didn’t take her long to locate the strawberries, getting out a plate and a small knife. It also didn’t take long for all the bees in the hanging garden to fly down to her, like they were perfectly trained to come when called. The reality was the opposite - she’d been actively telling them to stay away until she detacher herself from Casey. The mass of bees swarmed onto her, crawling across her shoulders and arms along with going in underneath the large t-shirt. The ones that had followed her through from the den didn’t bother joining their sisters, instead gathering around the plate.

“Yeah, yeah, good job keeping watch last night even though I didn’t ask you to- oh, I did? Huh- hey, be patient.” Trisha talked out loud to the bees as her pheromones swirled around her, reaching out to push away one that had started crawling towards the strawberries she’d picked out. It fell on its back and wiggled its little legs before right itself.
“It’ll be easier to share when I cut up. Once you’re full you can go rest, I won’t need many of you today. Mhm, that’s right, you’ve earned it.”

The actual conversation with the bees was nowhere near as indepth, but it existed. She smiled softly as she cut the strawberries in half, before cutting each half into six pieces. These were flipped up so the sweet insides were right there for the bees to devour. The scent was sweet even to her…
“Waiiiitttt- okay, I’m done.” She stopped actively ordering them to stay away as she put the knife to the side. Immediately the bees moved off her and onto the strawberry pieces, fuzzy bodies covering the plate. She turned back towards Casey.
“Most important job done- keeping the bees away from any interesting smelling batter. Do we have any other fruit left? I don’t want to give them too many strawberries, cause they’re for us too.”

Casey had been watching her just as much as he was watching the powdered flour rise out of the bag like baker’s smoke. He had two bowls, one for his own pancake mix, and one for hers. Assuming she'd not exactly enjoy a set of pancakes worth a few thousand calories, he set aside the flour from Andrade to focus on the normal batch first.

”Yeah! The classic stuff. There's blueberries in the uh… Crisper? I never know what to call those drawers. Blueberries, raspberries, and there's grape jelly on the door I think. Also, can you take a stick of butter out? And four eggs…”

He was doubling up the batch, but the assumption was that he would make her batch entirely, while only having a cake or two from the special flour blend to supplement his intake for the day. A lot of the videos said pancake batter was good for a few days before one started to risk foodborne illness, so he'd have plenty to just eat as he wanted…

”I'm not sure if mixing the fruit into the batter changes it… So we'll leave it plain and add what we like as we cook them?”

From the bags of room temperature ingredients he left on the counter, he pulled out baking powder AND baking soda. Same with the container of buttermilk, which a lot of videos said to leave out as room temperature or even hot ingredients made integration easier.

”Chocolate chips and peanut butter is also an option… I was thinking about just making a pb&j out of them, like using them as bread? God I love pancakes…”
Clearly genuine, Casey beamed from ear to ear as he measured out two cups of flour from the bag and dumped it into the bowl. He didn't get why people sifted the flour if it was all going to melt together anyway. Couldn't possibly fathom the little clumps of raw flour they said would inevitably ruin the experience.

”Should I… Sift this shit? Like, how worried are you about clumps of raw flour?” he asked with curiosity in his voice.

“If you mix it hard enough won’t it be enough? Sifting yesterday was how I got the flour everywhere, and I’d rather the clumps in my food than all over us,” Trisha responded, coming away from the fridge with the container of blueberries and raspberries stacked on each other and the grape jelly in the other hand. She put them down on the counter, grabbing another plate to throw a bunch of the fruit on along with a glob of jelly. This was pushed over next to the cut strawberries the bees were devouring. They quickly split in half between the two plates.

So her thoughts turned to their own food, and what Casey was thinking about making. Her mouth opened slightly as she tried to figure out if she could bite something like that. Depended on how thick they made the pancakes…
“Pb&j pancake sandwiches do sound nice… but I think I’ll stick to single layer ones. Adding what we like as we cook sounds good cause then we can make a whole bunch of different ones - I’ll have my healthy fruit filled ones and chocolate filled ones separate.”

With a bright smile towards him, she opened back up the fridge. A stick of butter and two eggs were grabbed, which she put next to the other ingredients. She scurried over to him and leaned up to quickly kiss his cheek, before just as quickly backing away with a soft giggle.

Two more eggs- what would’ve been a trip or two for Casey with his much larger hands took Trisha three, final two eggs held in one hand. The other reached out to grab a raspberry, popping it in her mouth as she came back over.
“Mmm this is good- shit.” A momentary lapse of concentration was enough for her to let her hand tilt down, one of the eggs slipping out of her fingers and hitting the ground. Raw egg splattered out, some of it catching her sock and her bare shins. She froze, staring down at it. It wasn’t like she was normally clumsy… Why did it just seem to be worse in the kitchen?

“Oh, uh, where do we keep the towels again? I’ll get another egg- sorry, I didn’t mean to.” She jumped back into action again, safely depositing the remaining egg on the counter before looking around with a hint of panic.

The deposited egg started to roll as if compelled by its fallen comrade to join in sweet oblivion. Casey put the measuring cup down in front of it, preventing further escape, before his hand slipped into his pocket to grip his Channeler. He was still smiling at her as he gave the situation a full onceover.

Then the dancing slip-mop slid out from its place next to the fridge. Probably scared Trisha half to death.
”Heyyyy, no sweat Babe. I’ll let magic take care of stuff like this. Did you get a lot on you? You wanna wash up?”
The dancing mop was already brushing past her as it adhered to Casey’s instructive spell. It’s little bottle of cleaning solution sprayed down the affected area, sweeping across it several times as it intentionally gathered the eggshells into one place.

Once the spell was cast, he trusted his design enough to follow through with the situation how he would to the best of its abilities… Given that it didn’t have arms, it’d require a little intervention here and there. But for the most part, it was good at cleaning. He’d done this a thousand times at the base up north…

”There’s a cupboard next to the sink in the bathroom! he pointed forward, directing Trisha in the assumption she was going for a towel for herself. As everything came to a vague halt, all he could do was stop with the dry ingredients and do what he was going to have Trisha do next: Casey snapped the cold butter stick in half, peeling the paper off and putting it into a bowl, then setting it in the microwave to mostly melt.
He figured one minute would be good, not wanting it to burn or boil over.

A shaky breath escaped Trisha’s lips as she half jumped out of the way of the suddenly moving mop. It was fine. He wasn’t upset with her and it was just a little mistake. Just a dropped egg… and they didn’t even need to clean it up. Magic really didn’t make things easier.
“It’s not a lot but I’ll go clean it off,” she said quietly, following his pointing and heading towards the bathroom. It really wasn’t that bad. All that was needed was a quick wipe down of her shins with a damp towel from the cupboard Casey had mentioned. She pulled her socks off with a grimace and bundled them up together.

She didn’t immediately go back into the kitchen, instead heading across and up to the loft. Dirty socks were thrown in the laundry basket and fresh ones pulled on, along with a pair of sweatpants so she wasn’t just in Casey’s shirt and underwear. Not that she had a problem with that, it just didn’t seem like the safest when cooking. What if she got something hot on her legs?

Completely egg free, she came back down for the kitchen, shuffling over towards Casey and pausing just a bit away from him.
“Is there anything else I can help with? I promise I won’t drop anything else, that was a one time thing, normally I can keep a hold of things while bees are running all over me.” Her tone was light, a bit of a joke to cover up the hints of anxiety that came from something so small.

By the time she came back, Casey was whisking away while the enchanted broom and dustpan struggled to do a pair’s work. The dustpan had backed its handle into Casey’s leg, the broom itself sweeping the last bit of shell into the waiting tool.
”Of course there is! Grab the pan out from under the island here… Not like the regular one with the handle, the uh… It’s wide and flat and takes up two burners…”

It was clear that the gears were turning a bit in his head.
”The… Fucking… Griddle? I think it’s a griddle. But, be careful! It’s heavy!”
The smell of buttermilk and fresh fruit wafted through the air. The bees kept wandering toward the former’s container with intent to redistribute the vaguely sour liquid among themselves. He wasn’t sure if bees could even do anything with milksops or lactic products, but he wasn’t keen on them falling in and getting stuck, so he kept blowing them away.

”Then when it’s on the stove, just turn both the burners onto, like, medium-high. At that point, we can both sit for a second while this stuff incorporates.” he grinned at her, whisking away still. He was being real vigorous with it, thinking about little flour clumps the entire time.
”Ooooh, Babe… This is a great arm workout, honestly. Full range of motion, active resistance; what’s not to love?” he grinned widely, jokingly flexing as he spun the tool in the bowl.

“Medium-high… are you sure?” Trisha looked up from where she was squatting down in front of the island, pulling out the griddle - if that’s what Casey thought it was, it probably was. Trisha didn’t really have any idea about what these things were called either.
“What if it burns again?”

Though she was a bit skeptical about it, she lugged it over to the stove. It was heavy, but not so heavy she couldn’t actually carry it - just she had to grab it on both sides so the weight was even between her two arms. She got it up and over two burners, before turning them up to medium-high just like he’d said. Then she could really take a moment to turn and watch him, lips curving up into a joyful smile as he joked and flexed.

“Maybe you should replace going to the gym with cooking- I bet you could find something to work out everything. Like, squatting up and down with a heavy griddle! Great for the calves.” Her eyes squinted playfully as she moved over towards the buttermilk container, hand coming up to catch the bees that still hadn’t given up on their strange quest for what remained inside of it. She deposited them back with all the others, sending out a command to stop doing that. With the bees scolded, she could go back to look at Casey - jokingly looking him up and down, before biting her lip.
“You look good while doing it too- plenty for me to love too. Maybe I should just watch you do all the work.”

Casey gave a warm laugh from his chest, followed by a jokingly skeptical look at his favorite person. Half “Oh, come on.” and half “Right now, seriously?”, the look screamed sarcasm in every direction as he stepped a few feet closer to her. Still whisking, he planted a kiss on her head.

”You're so goofy… Uh… Grab another stick of butter? Then open it at one end, and rub it across the griddle top until there's a big patch of melted butter. When it's got a nice melted tip, rub it onto the heart mold as well, then put that mold with the thin side down in the butter.”

Casey was good at instructions at the very least. You had to be in the military; it was amazing how often someone would have regret after giving vague orders to a group of relative strangers.

”Have you ever taught anyone to use the computer? Like, how you do, not like basic stuff…” he asked, just finding things to make conversation over.

“The coding? Nope. I'm mostly self taught so I wouldn't be a good teacher, I don't think." Trisha shrugged one shoulder, smiling at him as she grabbed more butter. Melting it onto the griddle was easy enough - after all this wasn't the stage she'd failed at when making pancakes yesterday. It was when the batter had actually gone on… and when she added oil to it.
“I’m not talented at it like someone like Cass- it comes a bit easier because it's logical, but I spent a lot of time just learning before I was decent enough to get any contracting jobs with it. Thankfully the maths degree helps a bit there… But I don't think I could teach it. Not like Reyna taught me a bit- she was super patient."

She started rubbing butter into the mould, beginning to understand a bit more how it worked now that she was actually holding it.
“I’d be better than Cass, I think. She'd tried to help me once and it was rapidfire information I didn't understand, ending with ‘it's just that easy.’ It wasn't… but I really don't know anything impressive or unique. Read a couple of my books and you'd learn most of it."

Heart mold in hand, she hesitated in front of the griddle.
“Put it down in the butter, like, on here?"

Watching the hot liquid fat bubble away, he noticed that it wasn't exactly how the tutorial had shown it was going to look. They'd emphasized that butter has a low smoking point, but it wasn't quite hot enough to get it bubbling the way he was shown.

”Yeah, just right in the puddle you made. It has to heat up too, I'm sure, or the top of it would still be raw and stuff.”

Satisfied with his mixing job, he slid the bowl onto the island top and stretched his arms a bit. Then, stepping forward to get much closer to Trisha, he grinned.
”What about boxing? You think you'd ever let me teach you how to throw a good punch?” he asked only as a half joke.

”Or, are the bees with guns already too much?”

The heart mold was placed onto the bubbling butter before Trisha answered. She stepped away from the stove, closing the gap between the two of them and turning around to face him. Her lips pursed thoughtfully. Would she let him teach her that? She’d considered learning some kind of self-defence ten years ago, but she didn’t exactly get on with anyone in the coven that could help with that… with Casey it would probably be fine.

“The armed bees go way beyond boxing,” she laughed, arms coming up to loosely drape over his shoulders.
“I’m not sure about boxing itself, but it’d probably be good for me to learn some self-defence… even if it's just so I can get away and run. So I guess the answer is I would, if you’re patient with me. And I get rewards. I don't want it to be army boot camp style.”

”Rewards?”
Casey’s smile deepened as he tried to parse out what exactly she was expecting.
”Y’know you can just ask for more cuddles, like, it doesn’t need to be a reward thing.”
He tapped her forehead against his, giggling as the butter began to really sizzle.

”Oh shit, alright… Lets get plates, and then uh… Stand by with your fruit or whatever you’re putting in, okay?”
He was moving to the drawer to grab silverware, slapping a couple of forks down on the table, then picking up the metal bowl with the normal batter in it to begin whisking away again. It’d stayed fairly frothy, so he was hopeful that the mixing job he did was enough to keep it all together.

His gloved hand- the Channeler, the worn down olive drab fingerless glove, the relic of a war now passed - crept down and touched the piping hot metal heart, his spell adhering the surface of it tightly to the surface of the griddle. The temporary joining of two objects was a spell that often came in handy, and it’d do just fine for making it so Trisha didn’t have to hold it as he muckled the batter into its open basin. Now waiting, he watched as Trisha followed through on her end with warmth in his heart and love in his eyes.

This is exactly what they fought for. These moments.

“I meant a kiss each time I did something right," Trisha said as she moved to the counter, picking up the tubs of raspberries and blueberries, along with a couple of plates. She knew she could just ask for more cuddles, and the same with kisses - or she could just kiss and cuddle him. She still wanted all of those too. There was just… something appealing about a little reward to get through something she'd find pretty physically strenuous.

But right now, there were pancakes to make. She leaned over and carefully put some berries in the batter, making sure not to splash any on herself. She didn't put too many in - not sure how it would work out - but there was enough that it should be nice. Once they were in they sank down into the batter, the raspberries practically began to melt into it while a couple of the blueberries burst. It wasn't what she expected but as the juices leaked into the cooking batter it looked… nice.

Her stomach gave a quiet grumble, and she looked down at it with a mixture of shock and embarrassment. She didn't normally get that hungry, nevermind her body actually complaining about it. Not that she felt much more than a little ache as the warm smells of the cooking pancake filled the air.
“How long do we wait? Since it's in a mold we don't have to flip it, do we? Do we just… wait and watch? It won't burn again, will it?" She asked a series of rapidfire questions, looking up at Casey with a smile and a hint of nervousness in her eyes.

Casey's instinct was to just answer her myriad of questions down the row. But with Trisha so enthused, now seemed like the perfect time for a little bit of sarcasm… Maybe the errant joke or two.

”I'm honestly just gonna give this one up to the griddle demons. They don't get fed enough, so we're just gonna let it go until it's black and charred.”
He was grinning from ear to ear, voice as emphatic as possible to get his joking implication across.

”Uhhh… Huh… I honestly don't think I can burn this though. I wish you could see what I see…”
His glove passed over the mould to release the adherence spell from it when he pumped a bit of White Lux. The heat from the griddle, the ring and the pancake siphoned into his eyes all at once.

Holding it, he found a perfect gradient from cooking side to the other side with still raw batter. He could tell the little flour and sugar blob was cooking into a fine pancake from beneath and on all sides.
”Uhhh… I'll flip it just to see what this color is?”

By color, he meant the heat scale. He'd done this before with optic sights that didn't come with a thermal registry, but he'd never actively attached the image into his own senses. Popping the heart mould up, he pulled it away and watched the batter sag from the sides just a tad. Then the spatula slipped under, and the whole thing flipped.

Still a little pale, Casey nodded.
”Oh, now I've got it I think…-”
He handed the spatula over to Trisha.
”-Now it's your turn. When I tell you. Until then, I want you to… I don't know, ask me a question? Any question. I'll answer it honestly.”

Trisha looked at Casey with wide eyes as she took the spatula, suddenly being put on the spot both for flipping and asking a question. Any question. What did she want to ask…
“You’re really giving me this? Then it really will go to the griddle demons… I don't have any of your fancy magic or skills," Trisha grumbled jokingly to give herself a bit more time to think without just staring at him.

What did she want to ask? There was so much she could ask… but she didn't want to ask anything too personal, or needy. It would make it seem like she didn't trust him to be honest normally. 'What would make you leave me' was one that immediately came to mind- but she didn't want to know, and she couldn't ask after yesterday. Not after everything he'd said about when he'd kindled. Because she didn't want him to think she didn't believe and trust him- because she did. Her own issues were just too much.

But it couldn't be anything too silly either. That would just be avoiding it… because maybe he was giving her the opportunity so she opened up a little more? She wasn't sure. She was probably overthinking it. Maybe he really just wanted her to ask any question, and it was just to fill the time.

Though the internal struggle felt like it took an age, in reality she wasn't silent for all that long. Enough for it to be obvious, but not enough to lose the opportunity.
“If- when- we move to the middle of nowhere, what would you do about your family?"

Casey was about to reassure Trisha that it was only an offer when she managed to squeak a meaningful question onto the table. Still staring at the slowly changing thermal gradient of the pancake, it's lovely heart shape no longer confined behind a ring of metal, he considered what she meant by it.

”Like… As an entity? I hope to support whatever good they do from a comfortable distance. Hopefully they're doing good things that don't have to do with making a pyramid cult for their own benefit. Like, I'm not gonna stop watching Leon fight… I'm not gonna leave Mia behind to deal with life alone. I'll do what I can. ‘Cuz, y'know, I love them. Does that make sense?”

To his surprise, the color of the pancakes's heat signature changed rapidly when it was fully cooked… The golden brown exterior was the result of leaving it there for an extra moment.
”Go ahead, flip it. Almost done.”

Trisha didn’t say anything at first, brows furrowing as she pushed the spatula underneath the mostly cooked pancake. Her flip wasn’t quite as neat as Casey’s, but it was difficult to get wrong when it wasn’t batter anymore. She then shoved the spatula towards Casey to take the pancake off when it was ready… because she felt like the delay between him telling her it was ready and her getting it off might be enough for it to burn.

“It does make sense, I…” Well, she didn’t entirely understand that. She didn’t have that. She didn’t love any of her family, aside from the mom who didn’t want her. That didn’t mean she didn’t want it and she wasn’t a bit jealous that he had a somewhat positive relationship with his siblings, dysfunctional as the whole situation may be.
“I was worried that you’d… cut them off. I wouldn’t want that, because I do like Mia- and Hari, and especially Ed. I don’t like Leon, but I know that he does care for you. I know you wouldn’t want to, but in case you thought you had to for… me…”

She was trying her best to be honest, to explain her reasoning behind the question rather than accepting his answer and leaving it at that.
“But I wouldn’t want Lynette around any children we had. I wouldn’t want to expose them to that.”

Casey heard what Trisha was saying. He heard well enough that he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention. It was hard to imagine Lynette being around another year, never mind being around when they had their children. It wasn’t going to end well, this little fracture that was building. It was becoming a fissure quickly, and he had no intention of stopping it. Every single oath he swore to would be broken.

He had no question that things would go belly up. The face of his mother was in his mind as he stared at the slowly changing gradient in the thermal image of the pancake. Like a sunset on something that he thought was beautiful in a way.

Then the pancake started to burn. He could smell it, and hadn’t noticed the sunset growing incandescent. His hand swept down, snagging a plate off the island and bringing it over to quickly flop the pancake onto. It wasn’t awful. Not like the nightmare Trisha had experienced. Just a little darker than Casey preferred on a pancake.
”Ahhh… Don’t worry. It’s not bad. Look, the other side is perfect too…”

Clearing his throat, he gave a bit of a flat-lipped frown, then flipped the pancake over on the plate.
”I’m… I’m sorry Honey. I was just caught in a thought, I stopped paying attention for a second. Here, let’s load it up again and we’ll make you a better one…” he said, sounding a bit dejected over letting it burn after telling her it wouldn’t.
”But, I don’t think you’ll need to worry about Lynette around our kids. So, don’t even consider it. I promise.”

It was only out of sheer love for Casey that Trisha was able to suppress the gleeful smile threatening to pull up her lips, and the dig of ‘see it’s not so easy, is it?’ She knew it wasn’t the right thing to say. It wasn’t the nice thing to say, and it could be hard to take as a joke… it might even start a fight. She was comfortable and happy enough to suppress that side of her.

“Alright, I believe you,” she said simply. Her gaze moved to the pancake- that really wasn’t that bad- then back up to meet his eyes. She reached out to take the plate.
“This is fine- it’s just a bit crispy. I’m happy to eat it! The next one should be for you, it’s not fair if I have two before you even have one. This is really fine.” She brought the pancake to her lips, taking a bit to demonstrate.

She immediately regretted it- not because of the slightly burnt bit, because it was still really hot.
“Fuck, is hot,” she mumbled through it, tilting her head back and waving a hand in front of her eyes to stop the reflexive tears from the slight burn to her tongue.

Casey’s face twisted into a sympathetic frown.
”Ohhhh, dude! Of course it’s hot, why would… It’s… There’s fruit in there! It gets super fucking hot and turns into jelly!”
Rather than start a new pancake, he pushed past Trisha and went into the freezer for an ice cube. Bringing it back to her, he kissed her forehead and held the cube up.
”Open up… It’s better to ice it right now, it’ll help.” he said gently and empathetically.

“I didn’t think- It’s not that bad…” Trisha grimaced as she swallowed the burning piece of pancake - she’d gotten a bit of raspberry, but managed to avoid the blueberries that looked ready to explode with scalding juice.

Even though she protested, she still parted her lips and took the ice cube directly from Casey’s fingers. Her lips immediately pursed, nose scrunching up as if she had eaten a lemon rather than frozen water. It was really cold and the contrast to the too hot pancake just made it worse.
“M’shry,” she mumbled around the ice cube, still making a sour expression over its coldness - and frustrated she couldn’t really speak with it in her mouth. She’d just been trying to prove the pancake was fine, not make him worry…

Casey had stayed to watch her as she dealt with the ice cube in her mouth against the burn. His hands migrated to her cheeks, holding her face in his hands and gently rubbing with his thumb. As she mumbled, he pulled himself closely to give her a kiss on the lips. When he pulled away, he pointed at the sink.
”Go ahead, spit it out… It’s okay, Babe! Just, now you’re gonna have a burn on your tongue.” he giggled
”It’s gonna suck next time you eat something.”

Satisfied that she was okay, he pulled away fully and took the mix he made for himself into his hands. He got the peanut butter ready, then poured a layer.
”I’m gonna have to do it now too, y’know?” he giggled.

“Wha?” Trisha still had the ice cube in her mouth as she shuffled over to the sink. She shot him a look of confusion, before leaning over and spitting the cube into the sink.
“Do what? Burn your tongue on a pancake? That’s stupid-”

She paused, moving back over to him with a teasingly smug smile. She stopped right in front of him, hands clasped behind her back as she leaned forward slightly.
“If it’s cause you want me to kiss it better you can just ask.”

---

The Lady of the Bay

There were no more incidents with the pancake making. Instead it was just time- and food- enjoyed. Then, getting ready. It was actually quite easy for Trisha to pick the outfits: she knew from the start what she wanted Casey to wear, and it narrowed down her options trying to match with him.

It didn’t mean she took any less time getting ready. Makeup, hair, packing… it was all a lengthy process for her, including a bit of acting (unnecessarily) cute so Casey agreed to carry her heavier overnight items.

She was practically giddy with excitement over the date. Just spending the whole day and night out together was enough for her.

“So… where exactly are we going?” Trisha asked as she got out of the car at their destination- the Bay, it seemed. A beach picnic? A boat ride? An unknown (to her) restaurant on the seafront?

She shoved her hands into her long navy wool jacket. It was left open to reveal what she was wearing underneath- the outfit she’d put so much thought into. A green knitted sweater with darker green and blue thick stripes tucked into a grey denim miniskirt at her waist. She’d worn thick, dark tights and more practical boots. Her hair had been pulled back into twin dutch braids over the top of her head, intertwined together into a braid bun at her nape. There were subtle hints of greens in her eyeshadow to match, while the rest was left reasonably natural with her lips done with a muted rosy brown lipstick.

The entire ensemble matched with what she’d chosen for Casey. The green floral shirt she’d picked out for him yesterday over a white undershirt, matched with the fabled grey jeans he’d learned of the very same day. She’d left jacket choice up to him- with the caveat that it couldn’t be a hoodie.

They looked nice together. Perfectly matching. She really liked it… Unable to hold back a warm, cute smile as she looked at him.
“We’re not going fishing, are we?” It was a joke, of course- not that she’d actually mind… she’d do almost anything with him.

Casey laughed heartily at Trisha's inquiry, thinking about the last time he'd gone fishing… He hadn't. Fishing happened around him, sure, but he couldn't remember a point in time where he'd picked up a rod himself. Having also grabbed his wool peacoat (a pillaged naval coat he snagged from a carrier's laundry room), they looked more like two twins whose parents wanted them to dress like that. Though, he couldn't complain. He told her to match them, and if she thought it was cute then he was satisfied with that. Besides, they were both incredibly warm. Practically immune to the gusts of wind blowing in off the sea.

In the short distance, the loading docks for the Royal Touring Company were devoid of people and boats. However, there was a smaller crowd gathering around the loading plank for the ship he presumed was their booking. It looked like some families, a few more couples; but the Catamaran style ferry was so big that he questioned how it could operate without losing money.

With one arm locked into hers, the other holding onto both of their overnight bags, Casey couldn't really direct Trisha's attention… He couldn't point up at the ship, so he did his best to nod outward toward it.

”No, Babe… No fishing on the ferry, I'm pretty sure. Even if this is a cruising ferry, I think they'd get mad at us.”
He giggled, leaning down and planting a kiss on her head.
”I think this one's called like, Lady of the Bay or something. It's a lunch cruise. Supposed to be like a three hour round trip, but we're getting off at one of the later stops and not getting back on.”

As he said that, he bounced the bags in his outer hand around slightly, directing toward them.
”You did say that you didn't want me to tell you where we're going, so whatever island we end up on is gonna stay a mystery.”

Trisha smiled warmly up at him, before looking over towards the docks. Even without him gesturing to it, it was easy to figure out where they were going. There was only one ship docked after all… and she was glad it was a ferry, as much as she joked about fishing. The thought of being on a small boat, when she couldn't swim, made her nervous. But thankfully that wasn't the case!
“Now I'm going to spend the whole journey trying to figure out what island we're going to," Trisha joked. There was only a small selection… and she'd only ever been to Cracker and Elysium (sadly). So it was exciting that they might end up on a different one.

As they made their way towards the small crowd there was a slight bounce in her step. A lunch cruise and then an overnight on one of the island stops… It was more than she expected. Not that she didn't expect Casey to put in so much effort after everything he'd already done for her, but she would've been delighted with just the meal. She could count the number of proper dates like that she'd had on her hands.

“So long as it isn't one of the abandoned islands, and we're camping without a tent… I'll be happy wherever we end up. It'll be a good surprise." She looked up at him with an expression full of joy, eyes slightly creased and smile wide - and the date hadn't even properly started yet. Though as they got closer to the ferry she pressed a bit closer to him. The risk of falling in while boarding was slim to nonexistent, but just in case…

“With this amount of people they could probably spread everyone out enough it'd feel like you'd booked the whole boat," Trisha commented quietly.
“A private luxury lunch without having to pay for it… I bet they'll put everyone close together, but I'm still glad it'll be quiet."

Casey was lost in his thorough excitement about a more summer-oriented camping trip. He wasn’t the biggest fan of camping, but he knew a surefire way to make it as easy and luxurious as possible for both of them. Of course, if things didn’t boil over, he could probably…

”Wait… Why would they cram everyone together if there’s so much room? That’d be silly: We’ll ask if we can find somewhere a little more private if that ends up happening.” he finally responded, now locked in a battle of logic.
Of course, there was no real reason besides being able to keep an eye on everyone easily… But they were paying guests? He supposed no matter what, there was a chance that people would cause trouble despite dropping half a Krugerrand for a luxury lunch cruise.But some couples had their kids? He didn’t mind little ones, but this wasn’t exactly the place he expected to see them.

Casey could only assume that most of the people here weren’t actually here for lunch… Just using it as a tourist-y ferry.

The Lady of the Bay was bedecked with a red belly devoid of any markings, and as it climbed up out of the water, the red seemed to fade into a cool grey that almost swirled into itself… Like the break of the ocean fading as it was sucked back out to sea leaving only the sand beneath it. Lights were strung around the open-air deck, and there was plenty of seating for hundreds of people who just weren’t here.
”I did pay for it, by the way… The lunch thing isn’t the standard ticket; which reminds me!-”

Casey squeezed Trisha’s hand a couple times before letting it go.
”-I gotta get our tickets ready. They’re in my email, I’m pretty sure.” he giggled.
”But, also… Maybe we can go camping at some point soon. If we use a little magic, I bet you any amount of money that we could have the nicest little camping trip no matter the weather.” he laughed, shrugging his shoulders as his phone slid from his pocket.

”Would you be down?”

Trisha tilted her head, thinking about it for a moment. From a comfort perspective the idea of camping had never appealed to her. But then she’d always been jealous of the kids at school who got taken camping by their parents. It always seemed like more effort, and closer. You couldn’t just abandon your child in a hotel room to attend an academic conference when staying in a tent together…

“If it's with you, yeah, definitely,” she nodded after a little bit of thought. She knew she could enjoy it with him. She could probably enjoy anything with him.
“I honestly don’t really know what camping involves… beyond sleeping in a tent. I’ve only ever seen it in films and a bunch of them were horror films- which I wouldn’t want to experience. But I’d like to with you- go camping, not experience horror films. I want to try new things with you.”

He smiled and nodded. Her expression of desire to just be with him made a well of warmth bubble up inside his chest as his finger fumbled on the screen of his phone.
”Oh, yeah. We’ll do our best to avoid the horror part. Though, I’m… Kind of happy? This is the first nights sleep I’ll get in like several months where the possibility of a fucking evil cat crawling into my brain doesn’t exist. Nooooo cats. Well, I’m certain there are some if there’s mice. Or, like, people living there. But, not our cats.” he giggled.

Finally, he found the email with the ferry company’s name and pulled it open. There was a file that downloaded, and he sighed.
”Why, why… Why download? Just open it and show me my tickets…-”
Grumbling, he then tried to open the file and was greeted with a prompt asking him to download a PDF viewer because the phone couldn’t read the file.
”-You’re shitting me. God, I would huck this thing into the water if it didn’t have our tickets on it. I knew I should’ve printed them in the office…”

Stopping wholesale, he had to stare at the phone before frowning.
”Uh, Trisha? I… I know what a PDF is but like… Do you know which reader I should download? Does it matter?”
He held his phone up so she could see the screen. He was scrolling through the app store, clearly stuck in the mire of PDF viewing software.

Trisha wasn’t quite able to stifle her laugh. She wasn’t laughing at him, exactly, she just found it… endearing. Surprisingly cute.
“It doesn’t matter- here.” Trisha slipped her index finger under his eternally scrolling finger, gently pushing it away from the phone screen. She scrolled right back up to the top and hit install on the second one in the list- which was the standard. It started to install slowly.
“It all does the same stuff- just download one of the top ones if it's for something simple like this. You can always forward the email to me too if it's easier.”

He shook his head, laughing and smiling.
”It’d be just as much effort. Uhhh… Thank you. Honestly, you could tell me it’s simple and stuff but I honestly wouldn’t know one way or another what is and isn’t simple. It’s all Martian to me.”
His attention returned to the little bar that told him what the progress of the download was, staring intently until it was done and opened up an application. Instantly, there was a bevy of confirmation notifications and other crap which he was able to ignore pretty safely. Then it was showing him his phone, and the files accessible by the app, of which there was way more than one.

”Wait, what the fuck are all these?”
His furrowed brow became one of humor.
”Oh, my God… They’re all the same menu... I must’ve-” he paused for a moment, trying to think of what the Hell allowed this to happen. A slow smile cracked his frown open, however.
”-Oh… Right. Last time I got hammered by myself. I was trying to see the menu for this Chinese food place but it kept just kicking me out of the explorer and not showing me a menu. I was getting pissed, so I just ended up calling them and asking what they had.”

He laughed gently, scrolling through the hundred or so instances of this identical menu until he found a file that wasn’t the same. Opening it, he found a couple of QR codes embedded within, and the writing around them confirmed them as tickets from the Royal Ferry Company. They were specifically marked “F&A”, which he extrapolated as Food and Accommodations… Though, he wasn’t sure what kind of accommodations they meant. Maybe it was just the service?
”Aaaaalright, there they are! Fuck yeah Babe- I’d high-five you but I ‘got no free hands, so…”

His face pressed forward and planted a soft and sweet kiss on her lips. Pulling away, he hooked his arm again while sleeping the screen on his phone.
”Your escort is available once more, my Sweet.” he smiled coyly.

There was a hint of redness on Trisha’s cheeks as she smiled warmly up at him. So smooth… she certainly preferred the kiss to a high-five.
“I’m happy to have my super handsome escort back from his technology adventures,” she giggled, leaning into him for a moment. It was nice to be able to help him with something, even if it was just simple phone use… Something she’d keep having to help with, it seemed. Not that that was a problem. But it wasn’t important right now…

“Lead the way, dear,” she said with a little put on accent like they were in an old black and white film.

Casey smiled widely, especially thrilled that she seemed happy. His glove was stuffed deep in his coat pocket, so reading her exact emotions was out of the question… But there was a bubbly feeling between them that wasn’t natural. Almost like static. He was compelled to keep her just a little closer, causing a strengthening in the sensation… Maybe it was him? Regardless, they spent the next few minutes in line waiting for the boat to load. One PM sharp, and the crew members pulled the little rope to the side to allow everyone on board. Tickets were scanned, scanned again, and people were directed one way or another as they reached the top of the gangway.

For Casey and Trisha, there was a moment where the woman scanning seemed to have trouble with their tickets. A little anxiety before she ultimately asked to look at Casey’s phone directly. Looking at the tickets, she gave up an epiphanic nod and fiddled with her machine slightly before scanning again. The confirming beep washed the anxiety away, and the two were allowed to pass up and onto the ship. While most people were directed left, the two of them were asked to head to the right.

Not too far away, they were met by an attendant who opened the door for them to enter the dining area of the ship. It was like a small restaurant absolutely cut off from the rest of the boat; though Casey immediately saw the removable wall which he assumed separated them from the main rider area. It seemed like, just like at home in Leon’s place, there was a potential reason why they’d need the bigger space at points. But for now, the dining area was almost entirely theirs alone. One other couple sat in a far booth, but the attendant guiding them along intentionally brought them further away without Casey or Trisha having to prompt them. It didn’t look incredibly fancy, but it was absolutely chic and stylish. The booth seats seemed to have the same coloring as the ship, with the red fading into grey and a crown at the upper middle of each backrest.
In addition, there were little hooks that let them hang their coats up, and the attendant also showed them a drawer under their booth seats that comfortably fit their luggage so they could keep it there.

Pointing things out to them, the attendant let the duo know that they were permitted in the main cabin as well, but that there was a more private and intimate observation deck above them if they desired to roam. They handed the two a key for their foot lockers, and let them know there’d be just under an hour before lunch would actually be available. Menus were placed on the table, as well as a couple slips of paper that the two of them could mark their orders down on.
“In case neither of you are around but we come to collect orders, you can just fill these out and leave them! There’ll be an announcement when the food is going to be delivered to tables as well, so you don’t need to worry about anything. Can I get you two anything to drink for now? Wine, we have beers on tap, soft drinks-” she offered, letting her statement hang in expectation.

Casey looked at Trisha and shrugged.
”You want something good? Or, you wanna wait?” he asked her flatly.

Trisha wasn’t sure what Casey meant by ‘something good.’ Alcohol? If he meant alcohol, then she definitely wanted to wait- as much as she liked beer, she could barely handle more than one with a meal.
“Just a sprite, or whatever you have like that?” she responded almost questioningly. She glanced back up at Casey, voice getting a bit quieter.
“Not sure which that counts as.”

Casey gave a gentle laugh, being sure to not condescend.
”Just alcohol, y’know? Uh-”
He looked back at the attendant.
”I’ll take a beer, why not? You have Last Round?” he asked.
“Yep! Draft or bottle?”
”Bottle, please! Thank you so much.”
“Of course! A lemon-lime, and a bottle of Last Round! Are you guys planning on heading upstairs right now? Or should I bring them back here?”
”I’m sure we can wait here! Trisha?”

“We’ll wait,” Trisha nodded, leaning slightly towards Casey. It wasn’t like what they could see from upstairs- loads of water- was going to go anywhere if they waited for a few minutes.
“Thanks.”

“Of course! You two get comfy then, and if there’s anything you need, there’s a button!”
She pointed it out on the side of the table, smiled, and bowed slightly before stepping away toward the other couple on the other side of the hall. Alone once more, Casey had slipped his coat off and hung it on the side of the booth. He stretched slightly, taking a deep breath.

”You wanna sit? We can probably walk around if you want. Up to you.”

Trisha didn’t immediately take her coat off. Her hands slipped into her pockets, urging the few bees in them to crawl up her arms and under her sweater. She hadn’t brought that many with her but bringing none basically wasn’t an option, unless she wanted randomly timed visits. This way was easier… once she was sure there were no more bees in it she also took it off and hung it up.

“Let’s sit for a bit. I want to look at the menu first… And I don’t know what you have planned on whatever island we’re going to, but I assume it involves walking?” She slipped into the booth, squishing right up and patting the seat next to her to indicate she wanted him to sit there just now. At the same time she pulled one of the menus closer to her.

“This is really nice… and quiet. It feels like it’s just us which is exactly how I like it. I didn’t know St Portwell had something like this- how did you know about it?” She smiled at him as she asked, genuinely curious.

Casey was stuck for a moment as he tried to figure out what to tell her that wasn’t “I was scouting the internet for shit to do near Elysium Island.” But, he figured he didn’t have to lie, even though he knew she may take it poorly… No lies. Not unless it’d hurt her directly. Embarrassedly, he scratched his head and sighed.
”I was looking at Elysium, honestly… And then I saw that this company does Bay tours. When I read more about it and saw the different offerings they had, I knew it would be perfect. Just a nice relaxing cruise.” he did his best to explain without focusing on Elysium. Like she’d just accept it and brush it under the rug.

“Oh." Trisha didn't say anything else for a moment, leaving him in limbo as she stared at the menu without reading it. Internally she was fighting down the reactive annoyance. She didn't want to snap because he had planned this whole date, and the lunch cruise was a really nice idea. It was just difficult to stop herself latching onto the idea that the focus was Elysium, and Sycamore, rather than her. But he was with her. They were still on a date… it was just part of his job.

“You’re not going to run off in the middle, are you? The surprise end island isn't there?" It was still pretty hard to tell how she was reacting when she finally spoke again, even though from Trisha's point of view the fact she wasn't getting upset was a good reaction.

Casey’s fingers tapped away on the table as he watched her go over the menu. He wasn’t going to mention how much she reminded him of Lynette in that moment. The measured reaction, the unclear intention behind the questions… He wasn’t sure at all if she was pissed or just nervous, and worse was that there was no chance for him to check: His glove was in his coat. Wildcasting would only make it obvious that he was doing just that, so he had to play it cool as possible.

”Only if I got a signal from Leon that they need the Temple’s help. Even then, there’s no chance I’d be needed. I set the Mariners up on the west end of the bay, so if there were any problems, they would probably get there first. But, no… We’re not going to Elysium Island. Today isn’t about that: It just happened to be the prompt for me to plan something nicer than getting sloppy at a bar or taking you to a shooting range. I’m sure neither of those are ideal dates for you, right?” he asked calmly, doing his best to stay level and not just breaking down apologetically in the hopes that she wouldn’t start screaming at him or something.

Trisha visibly relaxed as Casey talked. As she did her hands slowly moved towards his. So it wasn't really about Elysium. At least, he shouldn't need to respond. That was fine then. The date location, which was very nice, hadn't been chosen solely for closeness to a potential fight. He was right that she preferred something like this but…
“My ideal date is anywhere with you," she responded quietly, finally looking up from the menu and at him. Her expression was still quite blank as she forced herself through the last bits of annoyance, but her gaze was soft and her lips slowly starting to pull back up towards a smile.

“I like something like this because you're putting in the effort… for me… so I was worried maybe it… wasn't…" she trailed off in barely a whisper.

There was a gut reaction to kill the anxiety with humor. The comment left his lips before they even had the chance to curl upward into a smirk.
”So, then… We can go to Elysium and it’ll still be okay?”
Obviously, or at least obviously to him, this was a joke. But also he almost instantly felt like it wasn’t the right joke to make.

While it wasn’t obvious to Trisha whether it was a joke or not, it was pretty clear she didn’t take it too well. This time there was no measured reaction, just a sullen pout and her whole face screwing up a bit. While she didn’t look pissed off she was certainly sulking in response.
“No. The only other thing that happens there are sex parties. I thought you weren’t interested in that kind of thing.”

He could feel her deflate. Casey didn’t need White Lux to know that she was definitely not happy now, and all he could do was frown in an empathetic response.
”I’m sorry… That was a bad joke, it played with your emotions and that’s not what I should’ve said. I promise you it was just a joke, and-”

A memory crossed his mind. The night of his Ascendency Ceremony, when Mia was having a particularly hard time. They were at Le Tournesol…
I guess you can sit between us.
Jesus Christ… His hand slipped up to his face, clutching his mouth before his face was consumed by a frown.

”-and… God, I’m… Such an idiot. Please, I’m really fucking sorry, I don’t want our day to be like that. I shouldn’t be like that to you…”
His voice was wavering slightly, like he was actually going to get emotional over it. He was, but not because he was apologetic. Rather, it was the reason for him being apologetic.
The association with the action. The smirk on Lynette’s face as the worst possible dig came out of her mouth. Like she knew exactly what button to push.

“I didn’t realise it was a joke,” Trisha’s head shook just slightly - barely enough to look like a purposeful action. She probably should’ve realised. She’d been told she was too sensitive plenty of times before… Cass teased her about it all the time. So maybe that was on her- no, it had been a bad joke. He was apologising for it.
“It was a bad joke but it’s alright, you’ve said you’re sorry so- so it’s fine, I’m not upset anymore.”

That wasn’t quite true- not that she was lying, it was hard to stay upset with him when he was apologising that much. There were just memories there for her too, from the last couple of years. A bad period in her life. A much worse boyfriend or two. Somehow even worse times without them.
“Even without everything with Sycamore that place sucks,” she opened up a little bit. Mostly because she didn’t want him to start thinking she was overly sensitive, even if he’d been the one who started apologising…

”I’m positive it sucks. I wouldn’t want to go there, and the only joy I would find is burning whatever buildings are there to the ground.”
And maybe killing a bunch of her Elite contemporaries… But just like she didn’t want him to think she was oversensitive, he didn’t want her thinking he was a murderous psychopath. He had no gripes over building relationships or anything that came with psychopathy, so… His Doctor had cleared him, after all…

His hands stretched out.
”I was just thinking about the other night at Le Tournesol. When Mom upset Mia, she… She had this fucking smirk. Like this evil little grin, and it was so fucking soft I had to use my White Lux to even see it. But, I feel like… She got pleasure out of it. Out of like… Taking what her daughter’s problem was and throwing it back into her face. It was a very Lynette coded joke. It just came out of my mouth so naturally that when I gave it a thought I felt sick.” he explained.

He hoped she understood, and waited for her to take his hand so that they could both seek and find comfort in one another.
”That’s not ever what I want for you. I don’t ever wanna be that person in your life who does shit like that to you. Do you understand me?” he seemed a bit more serious now that he was trying to make a point. Not so sad. Convicted in how he felt, because he knew exactly what’d happened. All he could do was be honest with her in turn.

Trisha automatically reached out for him, her fingers threading through his and curling round the back of his hand. She understood where all the apologising came from now, though she didn’t quite know what the seriousness was here. It didn’t really seem like a risk to her. It wasn’t like she’d put up- oh, she probably would. She just didn’t expect him to end up like that.
“I understand. I don’t want you to- and I know you won’t. Doing something a little like your Mom doesn’t make you like her… I say things like mine too, and when I catch myself doing it I always get upset too.” Not that it was all that often, she hadn’t exactly spent enough time with her parents for that…

“I won’t let you be anything like that for me, anyway… and you’ve been the opposite. You really have been.” Her voice got a little quieter. It was as much comforting him as it was herself. Because she knew he meant everything he said and he wasn’t like the people she’d been with who weren’t immediate obvious problems and became them later…

Like perfect timing existed, the attendant came back with their drinks and a simple smile.
“Anything else I can get you guys for now? We’re gonna be pulling away here in a few minutes. We don’t have any pickups scheduled for our first two stops, so those should be quick as well. We’ll have some nice leisurely time out in open water.”

Casey was still very much involved in just looking at Trisha and being a little emotional, so when he turned to look at the woman in front of them, he did so with wide, sad eyes.
”We’re here for it… I think we’re okay for now.” he nodded, looking at Trisha.

“What he said,” Trisha said very simply.

Accepting their assurances, the woman sauntered away to continue her other duties, leaving the star-crossed lovers alone once more.
”I love you… It’s hard not feeling like you’re constantly on the edge of becoming someone you know you aren’t. I spent so much time away, and now they’re back in my life and it’s like… I don’t know. Sometimes I wish she’d just disowned me. But, then… I would have a whole separate set of problems, wouldn’t I?” he frowned, shaking his head.
”All we can do is try for one another. Thank you for reassuring me, even if I was the one who told the bad joke.” he expressed, soft eyes looking up at her from a slightly slumped head and face.

“Well I also… love you… so I don’t like seeing you sad.” She shrugged slightly, lips pulling up into a slight smile. Her grip on his hands was a bit tighter- she’d squeezed when he mentioned wishing he was disowned, and hadn’t quite loosened up yet. She was trying not to dwell on it… It wasn’t like her mom had properly disowned her. And she understood, because his mom was much more manipulative than hers. Even if he’d said the other day that her mom was worse… she didn’t really think that was the case, because it wasn’t like she manipulated Trisha or anything. She’d never ever wished to be disowned.

“We chose each other… That’s what matters. I want to try for you.” She pulled herself out of the thoughts about their moms, trying to focus back on them.
“At least we both have family problems? Imagine if only one of us knew how to deal with it… or maybe that makes it worse, and it’d be easier if one of us had a normal family…”

Casey vaguely shrugged, his face turning back up to look at her fully.
”Fuck ‘em, y’know? We’ll make it through together. You’re right. We’re choosing one another every day. I never wanna choose anything else, Trisha. So, I’m happy to be here with you, on this boat or in the middle of the woods, in the depths of the Pit… I still wanna choose you.”
His thumb crossed the back of her hand in a gentle, tender and loving stroke. His smile opened again, and looking at her in this moment was all he really wanted. All he could ask for. Why think about hurting people? Why think about being hurt?

He picked one of her hands up, kissing it gently and squeezing to reassure her before letting it go.
”Detour over. No Elysium, no Sycamore, no Mom and Dad bullshit, right? Us, and a romantic (hopefully fun) night!”

---

The Lady of the Bay > Misty Island

The rest of the time before they docked at the chosen island was peaceful. Thanks to an announcement as the boat pulled in this location was finally revealed to Trisha. Misty Island… She didn’t know very much about it. In her mind that was a good thing. A new place meant no memories except the ones she made with Casey.

It had already been one of the nicest dates she’d been on. A nice meal, good company, interesting location… It was quiet enough that she could fully relax and just be herself like she often only was at home. The views were nice too, even to someone a bit bored of sea views thanks to growing up in the city. More than anything the fact that Casey had found and booked it for them made her very happy.

And it wasn’t even over yet.

“What’s the plan, then?” Trisha asked as they made their way out of the dining area, and towards the loading plank to get off the ship. She’d taken his hand as soon as they were both up with their coats on, while walking close enough to him that their hands almost got in the way.
“Are we leaving our bags at the place we’re staying first, or just bringing them around with us?” It wasn’t like she was even carrying them, a thought that made her giggle a little bit, but she just… liked vaguely knowing what was going on even with the whole trying to keep it a surprise thing.

Looking around the place gave Casey the same feeling as he had looking at the pictures. He’d never bothered coming out here either, the one chance he had more or less ruined by Junior. He could only giggle thinking about all those years ago. How it was so innocent now, but torturous back then.
The island wasn’t big enough for cars, but there seemed to be a booming bike rental place offering segues, electric scooters, and obviously bikes themselves for renting. There was also a map, which very clearly showed which side of the island they were on. The resort was a short distance up the western side, with these little islands not being more than half a square mile in total area.

He looked at the bikes and things, then down at his luggage. His eyes narrowed at the clear-cut tourist trap, and he took a deep breath.
”Uhh… I think it’s best if we head over to check in. Just so our stuff is safe, and we’re not lugging it around. Since, y’know… Someone’s got a sense of humor.” he grimaced.

Outstretching his free hand, Casey waited for Trisha to take it before extrapolating.
”I mean… I’m sure not everyone is coming to sleep here, but… Don’t you think it's a little funny that they don’t rent anything that can hold a bag? Not anything substantial at least, like…”
He rattled his overnight bag. It wasn’t bigger than a backpack.
”Like, there’s no golf carts? Or even-”

He was completely gobsmacked by a woman pedalling by with a little trailer hitched to the peg slots of the bike’s rear wheel.
”-Oh, no shit! They fuckin’ make those? A bike trailer?” he laughed aloud.

“Yeah, have you never seen one? You know they make ones that you can put kids in too?” Trisha looked up at Casey with raised eyebrows and a small laugh. It wasn’t exactly some amazing technology… though she guessed people just tended to drive around St Portwell.
“It doesn’t really matter if it can hold a bag because I… don’t… know how to ride a bike…”

Casey didn’t skip a beat, his eyes still locked onto the bike and the little trailer behind it as it peddled into the distance.
”Well do you want to fix that? Or are we gonna save it for another day?” he asked casually, never implying that it was okay and that she didn’t have to.

He didn’t know a world without riding a bike. His first freedoms had been on two wheels; down to the corner store with Leon and some of the other Temple kids who lived in the apartment complex.

“Maybe, but… It’ll be embarrassing if I fall,” Trisha furrowed her brows a bit. Wasn’t she too old to learn anyway? But if she didn’t then they’d have to walk, because she didn’t particularly want to go on what looked like less stable electric transportation… She gestured towards one of the paths that seemed to go along the edge, not particularly far away from the sea where the tide was right against the short cliffs.

“Is it even fixable?- What if I fall there and then end up in the water? Would you save me from drowning?” Suddenly she was catastrophizing.

Casey couldn’t help laughing. As she asked if he would save her from drowning, he nearly crumpled, his torso bending at an angle as he let her hand go to grab both his knees. Suppressing a laugh this big hurt deep in his chest, but he didn’t want her to think that things were hopeless. He had a tear and a smile as he managed to return to an upright position, groaning slightly as he wiped it away.

”Babe!? Why on Earth wouldn’t I save you from-”
And then he was struck by something profound.
”-Why… Why would you drown? Don’t tell me you avoided bikes and the pool as a kid…”

“Avoid makes it sound like it was on purpose,” Trisha grumbled, cheeks heating up a bit. It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t ride a bike or swim… though she’d gotten herself into this situation by even mentioning drowning, but it was a genuine concern!

”I’ve been in a pool… just it was with school and most of the other kids could already swim at least a bit. They just dumped the few of us that couldn’t in the shallow end and then when I… threw a tantrum over it… they let me out of it. They were probably scared dad would do something if they didn’t. I didn’t bother learning later cause it’s not like I normally do risky things like riding a bike for the first time next to the ocean.”

”Oh, Babe… My Trisha Bee…”
Empathetically, Casey let his bag touch the ground gently before embracing her tightly.
”I didn’t mean avoid like that… It’s just not something I’ve really considered. A life without bikes and swimming and all that physical shit wouldn’t be the same to me. I guess it makes it more important in my eyes than it is.” he said softly, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

”If you don’t want to walk, we can go inside here and see about a tandem bike or something, so you don’t need to do anything. Or we can walk… I’m not trying to pressure you into anything on a nice day like this.” he smiled down at her now, pulling away slightly.
”But, I would save you. And I would love to teach you, because it’s really not that hard. You use the exercise bike ever?” he asked.

“Maybe it’s not hard if you learn as a kid,” Trisha let out a light huff, but she wasn’t actually upset or anything- just complaining. She tilted her head up to smile at him. As much as it sucked to not know how to do the things most kids were taught by their parents… it was fine because he was willing to teach her. He wasn’t even judging her for it. Not that she should be judged for something that wasn’t her fault.
“I used it once or twice… I normally go jogging rather than going to the gym.”

She looked to the side as she tried to decide what to do. She wasn’t sure. The idea of finally learning was nice, but… she leaned away from Casey slightly to look around, before also looking at the map. It didn’t actually look like a bike was necessary…
“Let’s just walk today. It’s not like we have anywhere specific to be once we’ve dropped off our bags, right? You can teach me another time… I’d like to learn, but maybe learning swimming is more important? Then I won’t have to deal with Tansy inviting me on yacht trips before rescinding it because I ‘might fall in and tragically drown.’ Not that I ever want to go, but I won’t have to look at her smug face.”

With only the smile on his face to tell her how he felt, Casey simply opened the hook of his arm for her to hold onto. When she got close enough, he pulled her into a tight little hug before letting her relax into position. Since they were both only expecting an overnight, the relatively light loads were only cumbersome in the context of being out and about.
Having to drag them through the relatively small shop fronts here on Misty Island would probably wind up disruptive. But here in the open, it was just another walk.

One with his favorite person, of course.

As they began their trek, the road pulled inland in a hairpin fashion, pulling itself up a short incline that flattened out at the top. Another hundred yards on, and they were about the small town. The first establishments were closed things; beach shops featuring ice creams and boogie boards, tourist requirements. Then probably the closest thing to a general store the island had, and it was relatively busy thanks to the eight hundred or so full time residents. From outside, they could see a few tables and a coffee machine, as well as the usual coolers and shelves for snacks and goods.

Casey could see the little Kino area clear as day, and practically heard the electric buzzing of the monitor showing the different numbers called. It was comfy, despite essentially being a Legalized gambling den…
Then there were more shops. Locals selling whatever they could. Most were specialty shops who only opened up during the tourist months, closing and bringing their stocks back to related shops on the mainland.

But it wasn't dead at all. Little places to eat had bread and fresh food scents wafting from their doors. In the short distance, the sound of carnival rides shaking and vibrating as people screamed out in joy and fear filled the background. From behind a string of buildings, one could see the crest of the sole roller coaster operated by the carnival.
Casey's eye was naturally drawn from it down toward one of the shops it towered over… A familiar word that elicited a guttural response from him.

In measured, unflashy text scrawled across the sign over the door, Casey read the word Firearms. Trisha would be able to feel him tense up as little, like a kid seeing a toy they want. But he didn't say anything, nor did he try to tug her toward the shop… Calm. Calm.

Eventually, they made their way out of the little town center, and ahead on this loosely paved road, they could see a building bigger than all the others rising up to stare out into the sea. An eternal vigil of a retired guardian. The Hess Memorial Resort was once part of the network of forts protecting America's West coast until it was decommissioned just before the outbreak of the Great War. Since it was such a recent change, the facility itself was an extremely modern and comforting resort meant to capture the tourists in the summer and subsist in the winter.

The entry was only gated visually, and there were plenty of signs letting guests know they're welcomed and to simply push open any door that seemed locked. Inside was fairly austere, simply due to the fact that at one point this place was a Naval facility. Great attempts had been made to make the entry feel incredibly welcoming, with false fireplaces surrounded by different lounge sets. Amidst it, there were all manner of potted plants that gave the space a natural feeling.

The check-in went fairly smoothly, and this would be the first instance that Trisha would get to hear some random civilian thank him for his service. The older man at the counter made something of a big deal of it, shaking Casey's hand enthusiastically before implying that he had also served long ago. Curious enough to be polite, the two men sat and had a quick conversation about MOS’ before they were handed their key and sent on their way.
There were several suites located throughout the resort, and theirs happened to be detached from the main facility. Casey booked it purposefully, in case they wound up needing the absolute peak of privacy.

As such, they wound up walking through the facility completely before coming out on the chilly coastline again. There were several pillbox structures dotting the hillside; converted turrets of massive naval guns. They were concrete cabins now, and while it wasn't clear on their rear approach, opening the door and looking in revealed massive window panes that replaced the old turret slits to let the glory of the frothy North-West Pacific shine into the bunker.

As a suite, there was an onsite toilet and pantry unit. The floors had been laid down with hardwood, and there were these odd lamps that radiated warmth like they were under the counter at a local fried chicken shop. Additionally, there was something cute that he'd specially requested: On the main table of the place, there was a surprisingly adorable bath-towel sculpture of what could only be described as a bee.

It was guarding a box of chocolate covered fruits, with a note that welcomed them to the resort, and gave them a number to call for any sort of concessions necessary.
While the view outside was relatively beautiful, he was incredibly excited to see this little touch he requested come to life. Not openly reacting to it, he waited for Trisha to take everything in as he slowly entered the suite.

Trisha was at loss for words upon stepping in. It was lovely. A nice view and a cozy atmosphere that she could imagine relaxing in later. It felt comfortable. Not too luxurious and cold, but nice enough it wasn’t lacking at all. It was separate too, so they didn’t have to worry about noisy neighbours in the case of poor soundproofing.

Then there was the bee. She darted over to it as soon as she spotted it. It was… impressive. That was her first thought as she saw the way it had been put together. Her gaze moved to the chocolate covered fruits and notes, which she picked up and gave a quick read. Nothing too interesting… She very carefully picked up the bath-towel bee, making sure it didn’t unravel. She spun around to face Casey, holding it up with a warm smile that lit up her eyes.
“Did you ask for this? That’s so sweet… it’s almost as cute as my bees are, isn’t it?”

Seeing that she was happy with it, Casey almost melted. He'd been putting their bags into the armoire for safe keeping, and turned to look at her fully.
”They did a great job… I never expected uh-”
His hand came up to touch the bee, finger gently tugging against the, presumably, wire coat hanger wings.
”-y'know, they got the hardware out. Pretty impressive by my standard.”

He laughed in a goofy fashion, leaning down and kissing Trisha's head.
”I'm happy you like it… I was worried you would maybe get put off by the fact that it was a fort. Or, y'know, that'd we'd be in a gun turret…” he admitted.

“It’s a nice gun turret,” Trisha retorted, putting the bee back down on the table. As she did some of her own spilled out of her sleeves, crawling onto the soft towels. Her bee free hands grabbed his.
“If it was just a grey, cold box with small metal beds or something like an army barracks then yeah, I’d be pretty put off. But this is nice.”

She got close to him, smiling sweetly up at him.
“I’m not that fussy. I just need somewhere that feels a bit warm with a comfortable bed, and you. I guess the bed doesn’t even need to be that comfy, since I can just sleep on you. Should we test out the bed?” Her eyes squinted teasingly, smile turning playful before she laughed.
“To see if you have to be my mattress for the night… and if it’s firm enough to support your back.”

Without a second thought, Casey scooped Trisha up from her currently standing position, jokingly slamming her back down into the bed with a gentle puff of air. His knee lifted up, and in an instant, he was next to her. Their hair made a collective spread beneath them as both were able to stare up at the ceiling. Casey’s hand found Trisha’s, and he slightly turned his head to look at her.
”Y’know, this is pretty comfy, but you should probably get closer just in case you need to adjust.” he grinned.

Trisha giggled, rolling onto her side and shuffling over to hug into him. It was nice, because it was like it didn’t matter where they were. Home, here, anywhere… it would be comfortable and safe if the two of them were together.
“Mm, it is, but it’s still not as comfy as you. Nothing else is the perfect combination of comfort, warm hugs, good looks and company. So as long as you actually stay in bed tonight… it’ll be good.” She spoke lightly, leaning forward to softly kiss his cheek.

“We shouldn’t have laid down… now I don’t want to get up,” she jokingly groaned, wriggling even closer.

Feeling exactly what she meant, Casey groaned and laughed a little bit.
”You can’t do this to us, Bee… If we lay here the whole time, when will I have the chance to win you a giant carnival stuffy?” he asked with a very sincere kind of concern in his voice.

“Oh, well then, I guess we have to get up.” Trisha said with exaggerated reluctance. Really, it was cute… she’d never had anyone win something like that for her before. Not that she’d gone to carnival’s often. Most of the time she’d spent at Oceanview Gardens was when it was closed because of a city wide disaster.
“We can start a carnival stuffy collection, put them in a corner in the den.”

She pushed herself up onto one arm, seeming to be making a move. But instead of getting off the bed she flopped over on top of him. Her arms went to either side as if trapping him in… very ineffectively.
“You have to pay the toll first to get up,” she grinned down at him, before cutely pursing her lips.

”Oh, no…” Casey said in a very calm, almost joking voice. She had pinned him, yes, and then could feel his shoulders still lifting off the bed despite her best efforts. He didn’t do it fast, nor with a lot of force. It was the inexorable overwhelming torque that just couldn’t be stopped.
But he only pushed up enough to meet her face with his own, going in to plant a very strong and passionate kind of kiss that he hadn’t really given previously. There was something in it that had more than love. Excitement, anticipation, and a desire for her to really truly acknowledge that he was the one.

The only one who could excite her, and make her happy and thrilled. His hands both gripped at her wrists, pulling them off him and around her back so she couldn’t do anything about it… And he continued to kiss her like that. It could’ve been a minute, it could’ve been an hour, but eventually he let her wrists go, pulling his lips away while their foreheads pressed against one another.
”How’s that for the toll?” he asked very quietly in what was a somewhat intentional sultry fashion.

“Mm… good…,” Trisha breathed out. Her face was flushed and half lidded eyes looked directly into his. A look filled with desire for him and to give herself to him. She hadn’t been kissed so passionately in a long time… No, it had never been like that. There was never love and more, just lust. It was so much better. More thrilling. It made her mind go blank for just a moment.
“But unfortunately the toll just doubled.”

She kissed him back just as passionately as he kissed her. It was a little messy, tinged with desperation and vulnerability. Like she didn’t ever want to be apart from him. She didn’t. If she died here in his arms, she’d be happy.
“I love you,” she whispered, lips still close enough to his that he’d feel her breath as she spoke. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she was completely lying on him now.
“I think we should enjoy the bed a bit more before we go out…”

Casey almost said yes… It was close. But he had to remain conscious of time, and budgeting it accordingly made him more or less flaccid. It wasn’t a lack of desire so much as a desire to do other things first. It wasn’t primarily on his agenda…
He gave her a soft smile, and while his hands grabbed tightly around her rump, it wasn’t carnal. It was just firmness, contact and a bit of shock.

”Christ… You’re like a roadman. You ask for the toll, see my fat sack of coins, then all of a sudden the toll doubles? Daylight robbery this girl…”
He laughed, smacking her right cheek playfully.
”Come on, you’re getting blue balled. I know you’re gonna regret not getting your genuine jumbo monkey if we don’t go and have fun. Besides, there’s some shops I wanna see too…”

He did kiss her again, this time more playfully, but he didn’t really force her off of him.
”What color is it gonna be?” he grinned.

Trisha let out a light huff, pushing herself up with hands on his shoulders so she was sitting rather than lying on him. She looked down at him with a playful pout, but wasn’t actually upset by it. She did wriggle on top of him a little bit, hands pressing into his chest - petty, teasing revenge along with just feeling him there. Making sure to not take it as a rejection. What she’d told him the day before was true- she was happy to wait as long as she was with him. Sure, she really wanted him right now, but it wasn’t like she had no self control.

“You’re lucky I’m patient enough to wait until tonight, and that I love you enough to not get upset,” she shot back playfully, with a smile that hopefully told him there wasn’t actually any pressure. She rolled off him and back onto the other side of the bed. As much as she didn’t want to, she needed to for just a moment. Otherwise she really might try to jump him…
“What colour is what gonna be? My nonexistent balls? You already answered that- oh, the jumbo monkey? Those come in different colours? Which ones- oh, well, obvious answer, green.”

Trisha swung her legs round, standing up. She started fussing around with her wool sweater, untucking it from her skirt and tucking it back in so that it was up to her standards.
“Which shops do you want to see? More than just the gun one?” Of course she’d noticed his reaction at the time, she just hadn’t commented on it.

”Hey, wait, what do you mean wait until tonight? You’re gonna… You’re gonna wait until I’m all innocent and asleep to… Take advantage of me!?” he giggled, playfully covering himself up as if she was shaming him with her gaze.
”God, I’m such a piece of meat…”

These were his favorite moments; little bits like that, where the two of them could pick on one another. Those were the best jokes in the barracks, and they were the best in his relationship too. Nobody was taking anything too seriously.

”Uhhh… I didn’t see it? But there’s supposed to be this shop that sells things that smell nice. Expensive candles and perfumes and stuff like that. I figured maybe we could find stuff for ourselves, and for the bees… And then obviously, we’re gonna hit every ride and game, ‘cuz it’s November and it’s fucking cold out and there’s probably nobody there.”

A shop full of nice smelling things… that did sound nice. But before she agreed with the plan, she had her honour to defend.
“You think I’d wait until you’re asleep? And what, do everything myself? What’s the point in having a big, strong boyfriend if I have to do all the work? And anyway-” She flicked a hand over her shoulder as if flicking her air… except it was in a braid bun at her nape, so it didn’t really have the same effect.
“-most people would love for me to take advantage of them.”

She couldn’t keep up the jokingly haughty pose, pursed lips splitting with laughter. She really did feel comfortable around him… she didn’t feel the need to act like anyone but herself. Her actual self, as opposed to the one she put on just to please people or be what she thought they wanted.

“I do like the sound of that shop. Some fancy candles around the house would be nice.” She decided not to mention that she didn’t really wear perfume. Couldn’t. Even though the pheromones weren’t the same as normal smells, they could still be masked or messed up by it.
“... And every ride, even the big rollercoaster? Or maybe it’s not that big, I’ve never actually been on one. Is it better or worse than teleportation?”

Casey’s brow furrowed.
”Like… As far as a ride?I guess it depends on the teleportation; someone like Clarissa is actually pretty smooth, but this guy in my old squad had this teleportation spell where it, like, dragged you in and spat you out. It was rough.”
Casey shook a little bit remembering the sick sensation.
Still, he pulled himself up completely until he was standing with his coat again. He yawned just a little, looking back at the bed.
”Geeze… How can you expect a soldier to do all that on a bed? My back hits that thing, it’s cap time.”

He pulled his hand up, just under her chin to lift her face and plant another kiss. He was just so happy to be in the moment, and the only way he could possibly express it was through affection toward her. With every fiber of his being, he wanted to grab ahold and squeeze her until she squeeked.
”I love you too, by the way… Don’t think I missed that.”

Pulling away, he still had a grin and took a deep breath.
”Shops first, or carnival first?” he asked.

“Shops, so you don’t have to carry all the massive stuffies you’re going to win me around them,” Trisha answered without hesitation. She smiled warmly at him, gaze full of returned affection.
“I guess… shops, then rides, the carnival games? That makes the most sense… unless you plan to buy loads. What do you even do with bags when you go on rides? Maybe we should do the rides first…”

Casey nodded, shrugging slightly.
”Thaaaat’s exactly what I was thinking. God forbid that gun shop has something nice in it, I don’t really want to be carrying something like that in a bag around a place where teenagers make up eighty percent of the workforce. No accountability there.”

He looked around the room, pointing at the little fridge next to the stove unit. There were waters, and he grabbed a couple before snagging a chocolate strawberry from the box on the table. Shaking the second water playfully, he handed it to Trisha, and spoke with a mouth full of fruit.
”Ahh cahhy ih ihuf yuh wauh…”

“Oh, you’d carry me everywhere? That’s so sweet, but I should use my legs,” Trisha teased as if she couldn’t tell exactly what he meant, taking the water bottle and shoving it in one of her coat pockets. They were deep enough to be practical, at least. She then held out her hands towards the towel bee.
“C’mon, ladies.” The twenty or so bees she’d brought with her buzzed up and onto her hands, neatly crawling into her sleeves.

“If you’re done stuffing your mouth with fruit, let’s go,” she smiled brightly at him, reaching out to take his hand. As much as she’d been the one trying to get them to stay in bed she was pretty excited to go out and do things together. She’d requested a proper date, rather than what was… the normal for her. Though the lunch had already been a lot more than normal.

“Do you think the bees’ll be alright in my coat on the rides?” she asked as they made their way for the door.
“I could leave them behind, but it doesn’t really feel… right if I’m outside without at least a few.”

”They do just kind of crawl all over you, don’t they?” he asked, chuckling slightly.
”I’m sure they’ll be fine. They’re bees! At worst, they jump off you and meet you back at the bottom.”

Making his way out to the door, he waited for Trisha to get close before opening it for her.
”After you, my sweet Lady.”
As he spoke, he triple checked his pockets. Wallet, keys, knife, a new addition in the room’s keycard, and finally his concealed carry. Ready to go.

“Very kind of you, my Lord.” Trisha grinned, putting on an exaggerated posh English accent. A little bit of an imitation of Sal, a little bit of her dad…
The temperature drop going back outside was a bit of a shock, and she shivered for a moment, pulling her hands up into her sleeves. Little fuzzy bodies crawled onto them, vibrating to heat them up. She giggled a little bit, shooing them away from one hand to push it back out so she could reach for Casey’s. Rather than that, she found herself being scooped into a full trot, Casey swinging her legs up and off the ground as they made way for their destination.