[center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/b3RmLjEwNi43NjY3NjcuVTJ4dllXNWxJRVpoY21sei4w/bachelorette.regular.webp[/img][/center] [right][code]Earlier...[/code][/right][hr] The shadows of the tombstones grew long against the setting sun as dead leaves danced on the wind. A woman in a long black coat stepped softly between the rows while her shadow, a large man in a fitted suit and too much hair gel, waited by the car. She slowed her steps so she could read the epitaphs as she passed, entire lives boiled down to a relationship, a religion, or one final chance to prove to the world that they had half a wit. The woman stopped before a fresh grave, the wilting bouquets of flowers and lace still another day or two away from being composited by the groundskeeper. She stared down at the grave with a slight frown and tucked a loose strand of graying hair behind her ear. She had imagined it would be bigger. Back in the day, Ashley had always been the center of attention. It felt odd to find her tucked away on the fringe, shoved off to the side. Odd, but not necessarily bad. Sloane folded her arms over her chest and nudged a bouquet with her foot. Just a couple of weeks ago Sloane had found herself sitting about six feet away from Ashley, arguing with her at Ashley’s kitchen table. Ashley had refused to see how illogical it was for her to keep holding on to the Apparition Killer if she didn’t have a means to protect herself. Inevitably she resorted to hurling accusations at Sloane, calling her power hungry and irresponsible. At the time it had seemed like Ashley had won the argument, but now Sloane took a moment to reconsider. Yes, obviously, Ashley had been right and Sloane would be more careful with her toys the next time, but now that there was six feet of dirt separating the two Sloane felt pretty justified in her desire to take the artifact off of Ashley’s hands. The extra earth also made it more difficult to throw mud, so instead Sloane thought she should come clean. [color=silver]“I’ve always hated you, Ashley Stone,”[/color] said Sloane matter-of-factly. [color=silver]“I hated your speeches and how you always turned them into a dumb cheer. I hated how you used your mother to garner sympathy like you were the only victim. I hated how you always took the good artifacts and gave them to your inner ring, leaving the cheap knock offs for the rest of us losers. I hated how you treated everyone like they were garbage compared to the great Ashley Stone. I hated how you allowed your friends to use and turn on one another. I hated how you quit. I hated how you didn’t seem to care.” “But more than anything, I hated how you occupied my mind for the past ten years. I hated how I was always afraid that somebody would come for you so that they could steal the Apparition Killer. I hate that I was right. I feel like now that you’re dead I should be able to forgive you now that I never have to worry about you ever again, only…”[/color] Sloane shut her eyes with a tight squeeze and swallowed in disgust. [color=silver]“You have a daughter. I will never forgive you for doing this to her.”[/color] She leaned forward and spat on the grave. [color=silver]“You fucking coward.”[/color] [hr] [right][code]Flowers and Canvases.[/code][/right][hr] [color=silver]“This could take anywhere from five minutes to five hours. If I’m not out in thirty, feel free to take off for the night. I’ll be fine,”[/color] said Sloane from the backseat of the car, barely looking up from her phone. “As you wish, Ms. Faris,” asked her driver. The black Mercedes-Benz pulled up to Flowers and Canvases right on time. Sloane’s driver, the same large man standing overwatch in the cemetery, hopped out of the vehicle and opened Sloane’s door for her. She stepped out, still dressed in her expensive black overcoat that covered her white blouse and gray slacks, and gave the outside of the building an unimpressed once-over. She wondered how much the rent was. The building was a little bigger than Sloane’s antique shop, but Auri probably only had one store. Sloane took what could be her final breath of uncrowded, non-hostile air and entered the store. A few others had already arrived, and Auri was perched on her chair ready to assault Sloane with an annoyingly chipper greeting. Sloane gave her a curt nod, thankful that others were still arriving so they could distract Auri before Sloane was sucked into a conversation. She took the time before the meeting to wander the store and try to ignore Auri’s stupid butterflies that kept following after her. She ran her finger along a shelf of succulents and checked it for dust. Nearly spotless. She admired a few of the hung paintings, noting the good brushstrokes and complimentary colors, and frowned at the signature signed by Auri Auclair. Auri had a basic, boring subject matter but the talent was unfortunately there. Sloane could see someone hanging one of these photos above a toilet to brighten up their bathroom or to cover up a hole punched in a wall following a domestic dispute. Still, the store was annoyingly nice. Sloane had hoped for—she paused, finally finding what she had been hoping to see. Sloane took a quickened step over to a row of arrangements whose flowers had started to wilt. She breathed deeply and held back a smirk, delicately lifting a wilting flower with her fingertips to create an approximation of how it should have stood. [color=silver]“Hmm. What a pity,” [/color]she muttered, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction. She moved her fingers and allowed the flower to violently drop and slam against the side of the pot. Fulfilled, Sloane made her way back to the ring of chairs. She refused to take a seat, choosing instead to stand off to the side with her arms crossed. She immediately looked down at her watch when Auri began the meeting. When Auri tried to make eye contact with Sloane a few moments later she looked at the time again instead of returning the gaze. “...Remember, we are not a Coven; we are a family.” [color=silver]“Jesus Christ,”[/color] muttered Sloane under her breath as she rolled her eyes. She could see Auri giving her employees this same kind of shitty line to justify paying them minimum wage to sell her pedestrian paintings. Sloane wanted to get Father Wolf for her own reason: he likely had the Apparition Killer and, given the coincidental timing, could be connected to the theft of her property. If she had wanted a family she would’ve had her driver take her to an Olive Garden, because that family came with unlimited breadsticks as opposed to endless migraines and bottomless bitching. But Sloane had a family before and they had been awful. As if cued by Auri’s closing statement, the Coven began to shift back into their old ways. Luca immediately began bringing up the past and Alizée began arguing with him over a person that likely wouldn’t even show. Tayla—Sloane hadn’t recognized her at first, but she was pretty sure that woman was Tayla—took a couple of well-deserved jabs at Auri before Linqian jumped in to deliver a suplex. Some of the others like Eksa and Simone shifted uncomfortably in their seats, probably questioning themselves for why they even came. Sloane shook her head. These people were awful to be around. Maybe Auri was right. Maybe they were like a family after all. Sloane cleared her throat. [color=silver]“They’re right, Auri. Let’s talk about the man who has murdered about a dozen of our peers, then we can discuss setting up Luca’s GoFundMe,”[/color] said Sloane. If she was being sarcastic it was impossible to tell; she sounded as if she was being forced to read a passage from a boring textbook aloud for the class. [color=silver]“I believe Father Wolf stole the Apparition Killer from Ashley, but theft doesn’t seem to be the primary motivation unless the others were robbed. You already seem confident that they’re just one man and not a group or some kind of Apparition. Unless you were just making assumptions based upon a name?”[/color]