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[hr][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjEwNi5mZmI2YzEuVG1WcmJ5QkRZWEppWld4c1lRLjA/fairy-mother.regular.webp[/img][/center] [b]Interactions[/b]: Olivia ([@NoriWasHere]) [right][b][code]The Webb Family Coffee House[/code][/b][/right][hr]

“It’s death.”

[color=FFB6C1]“Right, sorry. Stupid question,”[/color] muttered Neko.

For a moment, Neko thought that Jen was teasing her. She cupped her hand over her mouth, a consummate professional when it came to hiding disapproval, and nodded sagely—yeah, she fucking got that skulls symbolized death, kinda the whole reason she’d asked. It was only as Jen continued that Neko’s hand dropped, her dumbfounded expression too strong to be hidden behind a palm. She sunk back into her seat, her eyelids blinking rapidly in bewilderment. Haunted? Cursed? Sure, Jen was right: curses weren’t real, swamps were just scary.

[i]She heard a shriek from down the hall. Full sprint, slam open the door, flip the switch. Her little girl is pointing at a blanket draped over a rocking chair, screaming her throat bloody: Swamp Grandma, Swamp Grandma![/i]

Neko shook away the memory, reached for her drink, and realized she’d left it at her old table. She got back up and grabbed it, but her legs were too jittery to sit back down. She nervously paced behind the others, trying her best not to trip over the latecomers, and chewing upon the straw but never actually taking a sip. How old had Nora been when she’d started babbling about Swamp Grandmas and Swamptowns—two, maybe three tops? How’d her kid hear about this shit? The straw was in her hand now, her finger tapping droplets of cold brew on the floor like she was ashing a cigarette, her stressed mind fighting the urge to take a step outside. 

“...group of five girls that went missing last night…I would be very careful around her. Don’t trust her…if something doesn’t feel right, just leave…stay safe…”

Naturally, Neko had been worried that her daughter was in danger. Now, as Jen hammered it in, Neko realized for the first time that by looking for her daughter she might be putting herself into danger. Fear wasn’t an uncommon feeling to her—she felt it when she walked the parking lot alone at night after work, or when she met for drinks with some random dude from a dating app, or even when she got up on a stage to perform. Hell, she felt like she was in danger almost every second of every minute. However, there was a difference between feeling like she was in it and actually being in it. It was just a difference that didn’t matter once her daughter was involved. 

The group was rapidly splitting up amongst themselves and Neko began to feel the creeping dread she used to feel back in gym class when teams were drafting players for dodgeball. Neko wanted to go with the ladies to directly confront Mary-Louise, but she knew she was no actress and would immediately blow any kind of cover they’d adopted. She would’ve immediately tagged along with Charlie as an excuse to get to know her “granddaughter” (although really it was mostly out of fear of letting her wander around alone), but Charlie had a plan and Neko would only get in the way of that plan. 

Plus, Charlie had Carl and Lily there to watch her back and there was another person in the group that Neko didn’t want wandering around all on her own. The mother found herself sliding into an evacuated seat near Olivia. She disposed of the straw she’d viciously shredded by jamming it under the lid of her cold brew. She offered Olivia a slight smile.

[color=FFB6C1]“Just between you and me, I have a good feeling that the butler clearly did it,”[/color] said Neko with a mocking eye roll that she hoped read as [i]‘I get it, splitting up is stupid but let’s do it anyway’[/i] and not [i]‘I get it, I look like I desperately need the approval of a teenage girl’[/i]. Her gaze lingered on Olivia’s notes before looking back up. 

[color=FFB6C1]“Still, I was thinking about going to talk with him since nobody else offered. It’d be nice if there was someone there who could take some notes,”[/color] said Neko, and then immediately she began backpedaling with a wave of her hands. [color=FFB6C1]“Not that you have to do what I say. I’m not trying to—I mean, you’re your own—what I’m saying is—um, what do you think we should do?”[/color]