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[/img][img]https://i.imgur.com/xHVRvPV.png[/img][/center]
 [right][b]Interactions:[/b] Dean [@silvermist1116], Greenwood[@Punished GN], Eve (mentioned) [@LanaStorm]
[code] Veni Vedi Veni[/code][/right][hr]

Sully’s ears rang as Dean’s gun fired and then itself was fired in the churning cauldron of the Chalice’s furnace, rendered useless. Temporarily deafened by the clap of the gun, Sully felt the flesh on his hand continue to bubble and crisp as Bianca’s boost and Stormy’s consecration played tug of war with the Chalice. Lava burst forth like a true volcano and then slowed to a disappointing dribble, guaranteeing that what life reminded in the bubbling pile of meat between Sully and Dean was now no more. At some point Sully had accidentally jerked the Chalice away so even if Dean had not vanished the lava would’ve only singed his hair.

His tackle only hit air and the Chalice dried itself. Sully realized his hand wasn’t the only part of his body that felt heat and dropped to the ground in a surge of pain as the adrenaline faded. The bullet had pierced Sully between his left shoulder and collarbone, and judging by the dampness of his shirt it had hit something important. He let out a pained chuckle of disbelief and went to take a drink from the Chalice, his eyes closed and his pursed lips tasting nothing but disappointment and tang of lava fried human. The ringing in his ears stopped just in time for him to hear the clanging of the Chalice on the asphalt, his body collapsing under his weight as it rolled out of reach. 

And then he heard the singing and felt the wave of good greenlight wash over him. Dean’s bullet dislodged itself and Sully felt himself regain enough of his strength to lurch forward and snatch the Chalice up. He patted frantically at the gunshot, finding that it was gone. He threw his hands up  and pumped them in a private celebration behind the wall of continually worse-for-wear cars. He’d survived getting sand in his shoes, he’d survived getting shot, and he’d managed to scare off a biker (largely thanks to James and Britney but, hey, same team right?).

[color=goldenrod]“Ha ha! Yes! I knew you were money, Kash! Let’s go-OOF!”[/color]

Sully’s head snapped back as a boot kicked him in the face as Dean reappeared, ruining Sully’s celebration. He would’ve snatched Sully’s Chalice too if not for a bit of pure dumb luck, as Sully’s arm pumping lifted the Chalice up just enough to cause Dean’s hand to brush the fabric of his jacket instead of the silver of the stem. A follow up kick to the face sent Sully to the ground as the man vanished again, the big guy laying on his back and staring up at the waft of smoke. Not the worst hit he’s taken in his life, but he was pretty sure that the biker had broken his nose. He touched it. Yep, hurt like hell and it was way more crooked than it used to be. Sully sat up, shook his head, and took a swig from the Chalice, his nose and breathing back to normal as the elixir did its thing. He looked down at his bare arms and his bloodsoaked t-shirt. 

[color=goldenrod]“Seriously man?”[/color] groaned Sully, his brain still rattled enough even though his wounds were healed that he stood up, momentarily forgetting about the chaos happening around him. [color=goldenrod]“Who steals a jack—”[/color]

Finally able to look over the wall of cars, the delayed signal sent from his eyes eventually reached his mind.

[color=goldenrod]“—et. Oh shit.”[/color]
[h3][i]"WOLFPACK!"[/i][/h3]
Sully craned his but couldn’t see the guy who had shouted or the big dogs that were barking, not realizing it was due to them being on the roof right above his head. He crouched back down nevertheless, peaking over the top of a car and watching as the woman whose gun he’d gotten to first base with called the man Judas and singled out Eve as the one responsible for the death of their packmate. Sully quietly cursed a string of profanities under his breath, sounding like a barnyard full of vulgar chickens.

Okay, here’s the plan: rush out there, grab Eve, and keep chugging the Chalice like he showed up late to a frat party and everybody else was way too drunk to casually hang with. Maybe take a couple of bullets, dip into an alleyway, have her hotwire a car—surely she knew how to hotwire a car—and take off, saving everyone else in the process as the Wolfpack is eventually lost after a wild chase. Simple. Sully took one step to rescuing Eve when movement out of the corner of his eye made him look back and he finally saw the Curs on the rooftop above him, their massive jaws drooling and snapping. Yeah, no. He wasn’t outrunning dogs. 

New plan: Eve was bait, regroup with Greenwood. Look, Eve had already gotten her one heal for the night anyway. Shouldn’t have wasted it so soon. Surely Sully and Kash could put her back together afterwards. Sully hunkered back down behind the car and started doing a not-so-inconspicuous crouch run towards Amelia, looking to intercept Kashmira on the way. 

[hr]
[center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/b3RmLjEwNi43NjY3NjcuVTJ4dllXNWxJRVpoY21sei4w/bachelorette.regular.webp[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/r7scdkh.png[/img][/center]
 [right][b]Interactions:[/b]  The Court of the Dairy Queen[@Blizz][@Fernstone][@Punished GN][@NoriWasHere]
[code]Dairy Queen[/code][/right][hr]

When was the last time she’d cried? Sloane could vividly remember the last time she’d cried in public: summertime on the boardwalk, she a little girl with hair in ribbons as red as her cheeks, her mother hissing in Sloane’s ear to stop embarrassing her and pulling her by the wrist so hard that Sloane ended up needing a brace. Later that night her father, as Sloane lied in her large and sterile bedroom more fit for a spread in an home goods catalog than as a room for a little girl, quietly explained to her how it was unladylike to make scenes in public. For god’s sake, what if a future suitor’s family saw and she went down in value? 

But the last time she’d cried, period? It was not when Jade died,  not when her collection was stolen, nor when her mother reemerged from the shadows after a decade simply to have another opportunity to critique her daughter. It wasn’t after any of her relationships had failed, nor when she burned any bridges with former Coven colleagues. Never due to work or school, a messy surge of hormones or cramps, or a sad movie or moving piece of music. Not even when she was voted out of the Coven. The last time had really been that day on the boardwalk: an over twenty year streak, ruined. 

Any other day and Sloane’s instinctual reaction would’ve been to slap Jack’s hand away as he offered to help her up, but with her body amounting to actually being nothing more than an oversized, leaking bottle she needed the help. She held on to his hand even after he pulled her up, her head hung, her crying quieter but still annoyingly present, a squeeze of his palm the best she could do in ways of saying thank you. There was more talk about going to the hospital. Luca mentioned the rot making hospitals essentially a no-go for him. Sloane filed it away for now, tucking it inside the folder next to the mental snapshot of all of Luca’s prescription bottles.

Normally, this would be the moment when Sloane would scoff, roll her eyes, and point out that dealing with overworked nurses, nightmarish health insurance forms, and astronomical medical bills was an idiotic choice when they knew a guy who passed out elixirs like it was a two-for-one ladies night promo. Instead, Sloane quite liked the idea of not being seen by the others. Not like it mattered, enough people had seen it happen. Even the crows were gawking.  Word would spread through the former Coven no matter what now. She wondered what would end up being a bigger splash: Drake hitting her like a total asshole or her crying like a complete bitch? 

Sloane sniffled. More crows were coming to stare. It wasn’t just feelings of being self-conscious, the birds were quite literally watching them. In the distance, a black mass of crows swirled ominously towards the Dairy Queen. As Evelynn connected the dots (said dots being in a straight, one-inch line inside the world’s most boring activity book for pre-k toddlers, with the first dot labeled “start” and the second one labeled “kid, you can’t read but come on, surely you got this”), Sloane managed to finally exchange her sniffles and sobs for her preferred sound: a sharp, annoyed sigh, its usual flat melody given a bit more vivaciousness due to her broken nose. 

[color=silver]“It’s not a prediction if you are literally watching it happen,”[/color] muttered Sloane, low enough that only Jack would hear, but obvious enough that the others would feel that they had missed out on something. Moments later, Lila arrived just as Evelynn had [i]incredibly[/i] foreseen. Normally someone would ask what had happened. Instead, they had the courtesy to cut to the chase, ignoring Sloane’s nose, Luca’s wrist, and all the angry, sad, and uncomfortable faces that were fairly normal to see on someone after they made the mistake of eating Dairy Queen. Of course something was going down with the rest of the Coven. They had all been reunited for a grand total of thirty minutes before a gun was pulled. Nevertheless, Sloane could at least return Lila’s courtesy with an answer.

[color=silver]“Lila, please,”[/color] said Sloane, her voice strange. It almost sounded like she was speaking with regret, a coincidence caused by the modulation to her voice due to her broken nose no doubt. She squeezed Jack’s hand as she glanced at Drake. [color=silver] “There is no Coven. Let’s go, Jack.”[/color]